A Day of 24/7 Kink

[Description: An orange and white cat on a neatly made bed.]

cw: kink honorifics including “Daddy,” impact play, discussions of full-time D/s, mentions of medical stuff, cgl/ddlg

I wonder sometimes if I give the wrong impression when I state that our D/s dynamic is 24/7.

There’s a bit of a glamorized idea of 24/7 kink, I think. Surely I spend most of my hours sitting on the floor, gazing up at my dom, right? They boss me around all day and I trot along doing what I’m told. I wear cute clothes at all times, they wear some kind of domly suit, and I get spanked precisely at 5:03 every evening.

Okay, I doubt anyone really believes that. But it raises the question: how do you balance the fantasy of kink with the realities of daily life?

So, naturally, one random, fairly ordinary day, I decided to document the entire day. What follows is my exact log; the only adjustments are for grammar and clearing up some confusing wording. I refer to my spouse as both “Daddy” and “Damien” throughout, so if you’re new here, they’re the same human.


At some point between 3-5 AM: My metamour comes into our room to tell us he has a migraine and can’t go to work today. We’d had plans that day, but Daddy assures me we can still have a good day and tells me to go back to sleep.

Around 8AM: Daddy wakes me up. I grumble. They tell me I have to get up. I debate whether it’s worth getting in trouble, decide it’s not, and get up. I make the beds.

[Description: A very neatly made twin bed, with a throw pillow on it reading “Adventure Starts Here.”]

8:15-ish: I go make coffee. A K-cup each, plus creamer, and also whipped cream because we’re fancy.

8:20-9: We sit at our computers and check up on social media etc. I attempt to keep up with my Tumblr feed.

9:07: Daddy makes a tuna sandwich for Metamour and themselves; I make a fried egg and toast for myself. Also yogurt. I get very excited because our new olive oil decanter works really well.

9:24: I eat breakfast on my pink princess plate while we send each other memes on the computer.

9:40: I take mine and Daddy’s plates to the kitchen.

9:45: We attempt to do the trash. I gag from the smell and Damien tells me to go to the bathroom while they clean the can. “No, I’m fine.” “GO TO THE BATHROOM.” I go. I’m fine though. Damien finds me, announces that the trash can is beyond hope, and that we’re getting a new one. We get dressed. They run the old can to the apartment dumpster so Metamour and I don’t have to smell it.

9:55: We all bundle into the car to take Metamour to the doctor. Damien says we’ll go on a quest (trash can shopping) while he’s waiting to be seen. Everyone in the car talks about the cats and Tron for the entire drive.

10-11:15: We look in several stores for trash cans and somehow end up buying several food storage containers instead. Guy in Bed Bath and Beyond waves to us with sweater paws. I panic about the need to spend money and Daddy calms me down. Trash can quest promises to be surprisingly involved.

11:20: We pick up Metamour from doctor. He got shots and is Sad.

11:45: We stop at Publix for some Gatorade for Metamour. Daddy and I have more errands to run (including getting the trash can) and they know that my sensory issues make stores difficult sometimes, so they get us a Cherry Coke to share as a reward for being a Good Girl. We stop briefly at home to give the cat his (slightly late) morning thyroid pill.

12:00-1:30: More errands. Discussion topics include furry anatomical variants, Fabio getting hit with a goose on a roller coaster, and Indiana Jones’s theoretical coffee drinking habits. We get a trash can. It’s fancy.

1pm: Pick up burrito bowls. I ask for more soda and Daddy says no.

1:30: Get home. Daddy cleans up surprise cat barf. I put the bowls on trays and get drinks for me and Daddy (Metamour got a drink with burrito bowls). I ask for quiet time after being Out and Daddy agrees so we go to the bedroom and close the door. Unfortunately the bowls are stone cold. I almost cry, but Daddy talks me through reheating them.

2:20: I notice my mood crash and we start to discuss what we can do about that. Suggestions include an impact session (difficult with Metamour home) and some little time (also difficult but somewhat less so). Also I know Daddy’s mood isn’t great so that doesn’t help either. However, Daddy says we can do a scene anyway, and follow it with some coloring etc, but we promised to watch Star Trek with Metamour, so we’ll do that first.

2:50: Devil in the Dark. Also I clean the catbox.

3:58: Metamour goes to his room to take a nap. Daddy spanks me (quietly) until I cry and then I fall asleep.

[Description: An assortment of spanking tools, most notably a flogger, a wooden spoon, and a crop.]

4:38: Aftercare snacks (cheese & strawberry milk for me, beef stick and strawberry milk for them) and a calm phone game

~5: Metamour answers phone, gives me the phone. It’s a scammer trying to harsh my post-subspace chill.

5:26: Coloring!

5:42: Break from coloring because my hand/wrist hurts from damage a few years ago

6:05: Daddy randomly blows raspberries on my tummy and sings, “It’s my Pommy and I’ll pthbbt if I want to.”

6:06: I ask (and am given) permission to visit social media.

6:17: Snortcat comes in and I help Daddy wrestle him to put down a blanket so he doesn’t snot all over their bed. I resume coloring.

6:40: I preheat the oven to make dinner.

7:30: Dinner! Reheated baked penne. Daddy has trouble opening their Powerade and when I manage it they praise me over what a strong Superpom I am. I then struggle to open mine. We eat at our computers because the table still isn’t cleaned off. Damien gets some work done.

8:02: I contemplate doing some work but decide to make a dumb Star Trek meme instead, based on the episode we watched earlier.

10:00: We discuss maybe possibly RPing something on the computer.

10:10: We go to the other room and I give Daddy a back rub and some cuddles.

10:30: I do dishes; Daddy gives the cat his thyroid pill

11:02: We settle in to start a little RP. I make us some tea.

~12: I check on the cats’ food and water, give the cats some attention, and then head to our room. I brush my teeth and undress, then put lotion on Daddy’s legs and feet because it helps their lymphedema. We play phone games and talk until we’re too tired & then sleep.

[Description: A pair of legs (dressed in exercise pants) and a bottle of lotion.]

So, what do we get out of this log?

I think what jumps out at me the most is that we work our D/s around the day, rather than working our day around our D/s. We managed to sneak in a spanking, but that’s actually pretty uncommon for a day like that. (I do wonder if the mutual knowledge that I was doing a log altered some of our decisions, but obviously there’s no way to be sure. Damien doesn’t think it changed anything because they forgot I was doing a log.) But the spanking wasn’t even the biggest event of the day—that was vastly overshadowed by both Metamour’s migraine, and our search for a trash can. The majority of our day was spent dealing with the mundane.

And yet, there are little D/s notes all throughout the day. I have to ask permission for things like soda, and social media. Sometimes, when things are stressful for me, Damien has to take charge or talk me through things. In the meantime, I also have to help them when they’re stressed, with back rubs or taking care of dishes. (We usually do them together.) There are also nods to my littleness, like the pink princess plate and some time spent coloring, without that being the overall theme of the day, or eliminating my adult needs and responsibilities.

Obviously, this day is not going to look like every other day, and it’s certainly not going to look like anyone else’s D/s day. Our polyamory obviously has a huge impact, since Metamour is part of the household but not part of our dynamic. (He is obviously aware of it and consents to us participating in it while in his vicinity.) There’s also the fact that we both work from home and have fairly flexible schedules, and so we’re able to drop everything when something comes up. Our day would probably look drastically different if one or both of us could hold a traditional job.

But that’s okay. One of the biggest keys to a 24/7 dynamic is, I think, flexibility within that dynamic. Things come up all the time, and they might interrupt the plans you had for a Fun and Kinky afternoon, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have any of the fun and kink—you just may have to delay it, or do it differently. (We tend to do quieter activities when Metamour is home, for example.) This can be hard if, like me, you don’t like sudden changes, but we’ve also learned ways to deal with that, such as Damien letting me have a bonus soda because they recognize when things are hard on me.

I think the other biggest key to 24/7 is a sense of playfulness. I can’t imagine this would have worked so well if Damien were one of those rigid, seriousfaced doms who considered all acts of D/s to be borderline sacred. (To be fair, I would also find that extremely boring.) By recognizing that our dynamic is play as much as anything, it’s easier to incorporate it into everyday activities. On this particular day, Damien’s decision to randomly give me tummy raspberries was one of their weird ways of showing dominance and reminding me that I’m theirs, and vulnerable, and Small, but it’s also extremely silly. Similarly, Damien loves walking by and giving me a random swat on the butt for no reason, which is both a form of affection, and a way of maintaining the D/s connection when I’m cooking dinner or playing with the cat. It reinforces the permanent nature of it without making a big show of it.

This certainly isn’t a guide of any sort. You might not be interested in a 24/7 dynamic, and if you are, you may not be interested in one that looks like mine. And if you are, your circumstances are undoubtedly different. (You probably won’t have many occasions to go questing for a trash can.) But it’s the reality of my life, and my situation, and my dynamic.

[Description: A pink princess plate with cheese, cookies, and chocolate, surrounded by a flogger and a bottle of a sports drink]

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