Obedience

Does obedience come easy for me?

In so many ways the answer is no. At work I hate being told what to do, I prefer to be in control, have freedom to act. Not that I don’t invite comment and advice, but I am not keen on being directed. Luckily my job carries autonomy and my manager has better things to do than tell me what to do (most of the time). I was the bossy sister and I am a bit bossy with my mum (if she allows it). But take me out of those situations and I crave control. I don’t particularly want to make decisions, which is lucky since I am now with someone who wants to do just that. Master has a great knack of controlling the things we do and the way we do them. That isn’t to say I don’t have choices, of course I do. But I rarely challenge the over all issue the choices are about. I am not sure some people would recognise me as the same person when I am with Master.

Which of us derives the most pleasure from my obedience?

He loves the power that comes with being the Master. He loves to know that he has control over me. For him this provides sexual excitement, particularly when the control involves elements of my body. But for me also I almost need to know that he is there making decisions for us. That responsibility for the things we do lie with me. The sense of sexual fulfilment and personal happiness I have right now are as a direct result of knowing that I am his slave and he is my Master. In turn that helps me with the way I manage my professional life.

Are there consequences for disobedience?

Funnily enough I am rarely disobedient. But then we are not really following any specific rules right now. I don’t often argue about the decisions he has made, partly because anything important has been discussed anyway. However I do challenge him from time to time. When I do he calls this being bratty. This seems to be a loose term for anything I say that he considers to be so. Moaning, being negative, challenging his world view, suggesting alternative ideas are all being bratty. We don’t do punishment and I am happy with that. That is because there is little to be punished for, but also because he is a little lazy.

Did I really write that? That statement is, I am sure, very bratty.

SCC Writing is a Tumblr blog that contains lots of prompts for submissives along with the posts written in response.

Being naked

The idea of spending several hours completely naked in public freaked me out. Stupid really since this is something I wanted to happen. Ever since I found out about play parties where the male Dominant is fully clothed and the female submissive naked, I wanted to try it. I am an exhibitionist, I do like to be naked for Master and wanted to attend a play event.  But theory and reality are two different things and yesterday I faced that head on.

The car journey, me wearing a little dress and cardigan with nothing underneath, passed far too quickly. We arrived just before the doors opened at 2pm and having to wait in the car made me feel even worse. So much so that I actually told Master I wasn’t going in.

But, as people started to get out of their cars I found myself following. Inside the building I encountered 3 or 4 entirely naked women, people helping at the event (as well as some clothed gents). My feelings of anxiety melted a little and I headed for the changing rooms.

Many women kept some clothes on, lingerie, stockings, shoes. Others sported chains or harnesses much like I own. I made the decision before leaving home that being naked would be best for me for this first day. Lingerie or stockings would be an easy option and kind of cheating. However those wearing more than nothing were pretty sensible as they kept warmer than I was able to.

Out in the main rooms, there were sofas for relaxing and various benches, crosses, pulleys for play. Most people brought implements and toys with them. As mentioned yesterday, I haven’t been well and so to avoid any temptation Master left his at home. While I was jealous of those being spanked, tied and played with I know that he had my best interests at heart. Plus it doesn’t mean that he didn’t sit touching and fondling his slave. I found watching others quite the turn on and know that next time I will be ready to be watched.

We met some great, very friendly new people and I discovered that I wasn’t alone in  being nervous about displaying myself to everyone else. It was good too to meet new people outside of the munch scene. To meet others who are part of a D/s or M/s dynamic. This felt a fun, but very safe place to explore this side of myself in a more public place.

By the time we left I was already looking forward to the next time. Thinking about what Master might do to me, how he might want to play with his slave. This morning Master texted me to tell me how proud of me he was. How much he liked displaying me to others.

I have to admit that I enjoyed being naked on public display much more than I even imagined I would. Next time hopefully I’ll be a little less nervous.

D is for……

Dominant and Diogenes

Today I am speaking of one and the same person, since Master is my Dominant and also his online persona is usually Diogenes.

It is now just over two years since Master assumed the role of Dominant in my life. Back then I was only just learning about my submission, even though I had known for quite some time that I was submissive. In those early days, his Dominance was about about play, since that was what the relationship was meant to be about, also though it was about my behaviour. I had the tendency to try to take control in situations where it really wasn’t necessary. This was born from years of being married to someone who pretty much refused to take the lead on anything. He appeared often to not even know what he wanted to do, or to eat or anything. That isn’t to say that we were always miserable, far from it. But I had learnt to be dominant in a way that felt unpleasant to me and which often made me come across as aggressive.

Chatting last night about the ways in which I am different now from then, Master commented that I have changed immeasurably. He said that I was extremely uptight, but at the same time amenable to his touch. I wanted and needed to feel his hands on me, even if those touches were about me having my tits or arse felt in public. I still love that to happen, but he is right. There is no longer a gap a mile long between me as the submissive in me as the woman going about her life in our out of his presence. I am his submissive all of the time.

I have no need to take control of situations, though I can and I do if I need to. I don’t need to talk over people, though I still get accused of talking over him from time to time. But I know that he is in control always, I know I need to make him proud of me, whether he is present or not. I know my purpose is to serve and to please, I know that I need to be available if he wants and needs, but I can cover myself up if the weather is cold, or it is hot and I might get sore.

Our life has plenty of sex, most of it kinky. Always Master is in control. We play together, though not as often as both of us would maybe like. During those times he is in control. But more importantly he is always my Dominant. I am his slave. He is my Master my Dominant.

Diogenes of Sinope was a philosopher  and founder of the school of cynicism, born in Turkey but exiled to Greece. There is much about Diogenes that seems to resonate with Master, which  I guess is the reason he adopted this name as his handle in so many places. Not to say that he ever lived in a clay wine jar, was captured by pirates or preached virtuous self control. However he does fancy himself as a bit of a philosopher and is extremely cynical about most things. I recognise many elements of Diogenes in Master from this wikipedia page and other places on the internet. A complex, but interesting character sums him up nicely!

 

My submission

Dominance and submission has been a key part of our relationship from the start, and it remains so. The relationship, which started with the intention that is mainly be around play has become something far deeper. This is a long term relationship that may well turn out to be something that defines us in our middle age. But it remains one where He is the dominant and I am the submissive. That is the undercurrent to each day of our lives, it is just the way things are. We go about our business, together or apart, but during that time we both know who we are and are mindful of our roles and what that means to the other. To Him, I am girl. I am there to be loved and cherished, but I am also there to serve him at all times. For me, He is Master and at all times not only do I want to serve, but I want Him to be proud. This is our life.

I can’t imagine that either of us wouldn’t want the D/s (or indeed M/s) that is so important to us. However, we are not one dimensional and there is far more to our life and the things we enjoy together. I don’t see our relationship failing because of that and anyway I love Him for who He is in so many ways.

The percentage of time when our interactions are rooted in D/s probably depends on where we are and whether we are together. But, since I wear His collar and cuff, and since I try as part of my contract to think about my place as His slave I would say that for most of each day I know where our relationship stems from. As a woman in her fifties, as a woman who has discovered her sexuality later in life than many, I have to say that I embrace my place as His slave. For me, there are constant reminders which mean that at least 90% of my time is in truth embedded in my relationship with Him. Embedded in the fact that I am this girl; His slave.

The photo below was taken last summer. As usual I wore no underwear and when He demanded to see His property I did so. Mind you, at the same time it appears, I was filing my nails!

 

SCC Writing prompt #164

The thing that always pulls me back into the submissive mindset is when Master refers to me as girl, rather than saying for example ‘you’ or using my given name (though to be honest he doesn’t often do that). I am always girl, or this girl, in bed and during a scene; it is my slave name. There are plenty of other names I am called – slut, bitch, cunt; but always girl. If Master reminds me that I should be referring to myself as ‘this girl’, well then that is enough to stop me dead in my tracks and to comply with his wishes. I have to admit I find it interesting that this is the case since I know well I am a woman, a middle aged woman, but to him I am girl; this girl. Of course if he should refer to me as ‘good girl’, well then I am in my element. A swooning submissive slave girl.

The collar is my real world trigger. It is made of titanium and so is not as heavy as a collar made of steel. There are times, whole hours worth of time, when I forget I have it on. I might catch sight of myself in the mirror and there it is plain as day. A sign of slavery, ownership; submission. Sometimes I wonder why the collar of my dress / shirt feels so heavy, and realise it is the collar. Then there are the times I wake with the collar in an odd position and think about the fact I am his slave. After 4 months or so of wearing the collar I can truly say that it continues to add to my feelings of submission. I love wearing it and love the fact that he and I know what it means and also that there are people out there who also know. I also like the fact that 99% of the people who encounter me during my daily life have no idea, most don’t even notice more than some chunky jewellery.

My go to remedy every time would be the butt plug. There is something about the cool metal slipping into the space where you feel nothing should probably be placed. The pressure that you need to apply to get it to ease past the tightness of the anal sphincter and the feeling as it pops into place. Then the feeling of fullness and the effect it seems to have on my general wellbeing. The way it relaxes me and helps me think about who and what I am. Plus, yes, the way it reminds me of what else finds its way into that very space. Master knows the effect the plug has on me, and will instruct me to insert it when he feels I am getting just that little bit bratty, anxious or both.

Out of the blue

Life has settled into something of a routine, one that this girl is comfortable with. While it doesn’t involve much in the way of kink or any other visible part of an M/s dynamic, there is nothing dull or boring. You don’t get to your fifties without realising that this is what life is about and to be frank, if that life is happy, interesting and comfortable, why knock it? What is more, there is still more sex going on round here than at any other time during this girl’s previous lifetime.

That isn’t to say that a reminder of slavery doesn’t exist, after all, there is the collar and there is the cuff. But pretty much no one has ever commented on either – a lesson to those who think they need a discrete sign of slavery perhaps? For this girl, those things are ever present and you know that collar sometimes feels weightless, but other times incredibly heavy; how does that happen?

Contact with Master runs like this: Weekends together at His place of hers, and occasionally midweek for a munch or some other event. Most evenings a Skype call for an hour or so to catch up. Rarely there might be a text during the day, but mostly not.

So, today at her desk this girl randomly checked her phone and out of the blue there is an instruction.

When she next needs to go to the toilet she should write the letter G on her tummy and send Him a photo.

Not surprisingly she was annoyed at this instruction, especially as she had been at that moment thinking that she needed to go.

Of course, she agreed and then complied. But not before waiting for an hour or so.

Master has been saying that He needs to pull His slave back into line, and maybe today was the start of such a thing.

Lets hope so, since if nothing else it gives a girl something to blog about!

This slave has been collared

Late last night this girl knelt, knees wide, hands upwards, naked before her Master while He placed a collar around her neck and tightened the screw. Then He drew on her breasts and tummy.

This symbol, which Master created from the letters MPB is going to form this girl’s tattoo; He thinks that this would be a good position for it. The little bruise is a result of the way in which Master used his slave after she had been collared.

 

This mark is on girl’s tummy (a little faded as it was post shower) and use her He did. Last night as a play thing – she lay naked, and open for Him to feel, kiss and bring to orgasm after orgasm, while He sat clothed. Then this morning she was thoroughly fucked by Him.
Now this girl has been collared, the contract and rules we have will be re-visited. This girl has been lax in sticking to some of the prescribed rules and Master hasn’t really punished her for those lapses. It seems very likely that this will change. This morning, this girl is one very very happy slave.

This girl’s submission

A lot is being written about submission at the moment, much of it in the context of the whole 50 Shades of Grey hype. It has been good to see articles in newspapers and magazines written by those who live this lifestyle themselves. It has also led to a number of bloggers writing on the topic themselves.

For this girl, deciding to write about her submission is less about any outside influences, although they have been thought provoking. Actually this is about something within, about a sense that this girl’s submission is developing further. Partly this is because Master is pushing this girl to explore her limits, but also that she wants to do so.
To begin with submission felt like a desire, a want. Something to try. It was possible to switch it on and off, to be Master’s girl when they were together, and then to get on with real life. Pretty soon though this girl realised that it wasn’t so easy to put it out of her mind. Overtime it has become a need.
Part of this is structured through the contract. Within it, this girl needs to consider Master’s view on the things she does. She needs at all times to wonder whether He would be happy with what she is saying or doing, whether He would be proud of her actions and behaviours. This has at times caused this girl to act differently than she would previously. It also gives her cause to reflect on her actions afterwards. Whenever Master says good bye to this girl, whether in person or say on Skype (which is how they communicate during the working week), He tells this girl to be good. She often laughs this off, but actually it is important. It is a reminder. He is not particularly hot on punishment, for that this girl is glad and grateful. But this doesn’t mean she wilfully misbehaves anyway.

Then there is the way in which we address each other. He is Master and that is what this girl calls Him. Sometimes she almost refers to Him as Master to others; family members or colleagues. In her own head she thinks of Him as Master, because that is who and what He is. Master always refers to this girl as girl. She is pretty sure that is the way He thinks of her, as His girl. During play or sex, this girl often calls Him Lord. He loves her to refer to Him in this way. There was a time when this girl laughed in the face of such a title, but not any more. In this relationship, this girl needs to consider the respect with which she treats her Master. Gradually He is also becoming her Daddy, as He guides her and teaches her the ways of His world. To Him this girl is a bitch or a slut. She loves to be called these names and He loves it when she refers to herself in this way.For much of the time we have been together, this relationship has been conducted in private. First in play and in the bedroom and then within the confines of our homes. This doesn’t mean that Master hasn’t always touched His girl – a feel of her bottom or nipple for example – while they are out in public. This girl is required to dress without underwear when we are together, unless she seeks permission. Master prefers access to this girl’s body at all times, though He is relaxed about her wearing trousers etc during winter. The feel of His hand on this girl’s bare bottom as we walk along together helps to remind her of her submission, what is more, she finds it arousing and she loves Him to turn her on in this way. Now though we are branching out, we have started to attend a local munch regularly and this girl has asked Master to consider a play party for them to attend soon. When it happens, it will be her first time playing in public in front of others and also to watch other people. This girl feels that it will be an important step for her, but probably something she needs to do.

This girl’s submission is increasingly about the power that Master has taken from her and which He exerts over her. It is an ever present aspect of their relationship together. For Master, the power exchange is what arouses Him, indeed it is at the core of who He is. He doesn’t look for, nor get any kind of doormat, but we both know who is in charge in this relationship. For the first time in her life, this girl is able to go through whole days of her life without making much in the way of a decision. This is highly liberating for someone who thought she was a control freak. Often in restaurants these days, this girl barely glances at the menu, and never bothers to look at the wine list since she never chooses the wine anyway. That power exchange though is not always an overt thing, something that can be seen by others, it is implicit, at the centre of who we are, an ever present undercurrent to our everyday life.

Master’s kinks are increasingly becoming this girl’s kinks. Luckily, she is willing to try most things once (at least), she trusts that He will keep her safe and so puts herself into His safe hands. So when she dresses for His pleasure, when she lies down in the playroom and He experiments with the new attachments on His violent wand, when she pisses on Him or he on Her the pleasure He feels becomes hers. This girl is there for Him, to be used yes, but also to reap the benefits and to enjoy her submission.

There are outward signs of ownership; the piercings and the bracelet. In the future there will very likely be a tattoo of some kind and hopefully a collar. He would like a slave with very short hair, maybe shaved, He may not get that from this girl (but never say never).

But really this girl’s submission is not about those things. This submissive craves Master’s Dominance and He her submission. Who knows where all of this is going to lead? Maybe it is about the journey though, not the ultimate destination.

It’s about the power, the control and the submission

He is not a great one for overt signs of dominance. There are rules, but if they are broken, and He doesn’t consider it serious He is not exactly hot on physical punishment. But in the main, the rules about behaviour don’t get broken anyway, since He has a very strong, but subtle control over me.

That control and the power that goes with it, is something I love so much about this relationship. That and the great times we have together, the advice and support He offers and the way He touches me.
Oh yes, the touch.
This morning, He spent time admiring His current project – the growth and shaping of the bush (the one that sits around the area of His girl’s pubes). He stroked, sat looking and then trimmed it. Then He wrote good girl above it. He also told me how much He loved how my clit is hidden unless my legs are spread. God, no man have ever told me that they love my body in that way.
The things He does, the things he says make me feel so damned submissive.
It doesn’t take play or sex. It doesn’t take a collar or exposing myself in public.
It takes the man – the understated Dominance. The way in which He exerts His power, His control.
I can’t pretend, I love it and love Him.

Life is good, life is bad

That is just how it feels.

On the one hand I feel free to be the person I know I am. In that freedom, I am able to enjoy being His slave, His bitch, His piece of fuckmeat. As and when He chooses.

He has bought me a leather bodice top, kind of corset like, which completes the leather look He wants for me. This weekend, He played with me harder than for a while.

He is shaping me into the slave He wants.

At the same time, we are having some good, fun times together. Spending time in each others company, just being.

BUT

The respite I had hoped for after losing my dad is not happening. Mum is physically unwell, in hospital with a chest infection and a series of falls. We thought her problems were emotional and psychological as a result of losing her husband of 55 years.

The responsibility of being the daughter she needs right now is weighing me down, and while my brothers say they don’t begrudge my obvious happiness elsewhere, I can’t help but carry the burden.

Balance is the thing, I know that. I am seeking that balance and know that I have Master to help me find it.

That is why, I have struggled with the words here on my blog. But hopefully this little post is the start of the end of my slight bloggers block.