Collaring has been made into the sign of ultimate submission in D/s relationships. It is perceived as one signing over their life to another for complete protection, care, and control (not necessarily love) and demonstrates the deepest level of commitment and trust. But I just don’t get it, and here’s why:
When I began exploring who I am in the world of BDSM, I was in the beginnings of a relationship with a Master Dom. It was his power that drew me to him – he was exactly what you’d think a Master would be. A prominant lifestyle Dom, he had been practicing for over 20 years with many long-term D/s relationships. He knew straight away I wasn’t a submissive, that I didn’t have a subservient bone in my body, but his desire to keep me was too strong. He would often call me his equal, I guess to satisfy my pride, but also to remind himself that he was dealing with an entirely different creature than he was used to – he had to keep his wits about him.
As our relationship progressed, against his character he started to desire things of me that only a submissive would. This made him confused and frustrated. In a last effort to keep his world in order, he put forth his desire to collar me. I had no idea what that really meant – I thought it was just an outward expression of an inner commitment, similar to an engagement – but I was wrong. He wanted to command me in every aspect of my life. He wanted to tell me who I could play with, when, how, or if at all. He wanted me to give up my will to him as if he was a god and in return he would be everything for me. He asked me how I felt about that, and I told him it would make me feel trapped. He asked me why and I said, “I’m like a bird, free in the sky – sure, I can be caged for your pleasure, and I might even like it for a while, but eventually my colours will fade and my song won’t be as bright. Freedom is what makes me who I am.” He understood, and then he said his “goodbye”, the one a Dom says when he means forever.
I was devastated. But I knew what he did was for truth. He was the frog, ready to take me on a journey safely across the river, but I was the scorpion, under control by my own nature.* He was wise not to be seduced by my desire of him and the allure of an intensely climactic relationship. And since, my ideas on collaring haven’t wained.
Collaring to some means freedom – freedom from their own will as their choices are diminished or consumed; freedom from their own morals as they are subject to follow another’s; freedom from responsibility to lead, to protect and to nurture – returning to a childlike existence where everything is taken care for them by their Master.
But I like wild things…
Collaring to me means a lack of trust. A dog is collared for control but more so because the dog cannot be trusted to follow their Master’s command without it. It is supposed to suppress fear, especially in the Master – the fear of escape and disobedience. Collaring perfectly suits domesticated dogs – they are bred to be collared.
To collar a wolf would be nefarious. A wolf’s beauty and nature is designed by freedom. A collar can trap it but its wild will can never be broken… Yet, if by chance the wolf indulges you, entering your camp and sharing your company for a little while before moving on, you will marvel at the experience, wondering your worth, at how such a creature has chosen you to be in its presence…
Thus, I am a dominant woman.
And likewise, I don’t lust after submissive men, the ones who are born to be, who grovel before earning the right to, but wild men too beautiful to collar. I don’t want them to be mine to keep and cage out of fear they will run away or be preyed upon by another. If they are true to their wildness and nature, a fleeting moment of connection with them is more precious than any collar; and their desire to tame their own nature to stay with me is priceless.