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.
post script: Thinking about things on the way to work this morning. To be frank the only things I really would keep from Master is the ‘secrets’ that need to be maintained through work. But essentially we call that confidentiality. I work in the English health service and am a nurse by profession. Sometimes, I just can’t share with anyone things that I have heard / learned. Today I received some information no in the public domain, twice. Not only is it confidential, but to be frank it is not interesting to Master. But even if it were, what is the point?
This has already happened in our relationship. There have been times when Master has acknowledged that my help has been required, though maybe not at the time. He is not a man who takes kindly to being ‘told what to do’. I found that if I gave Him the space and the time and didn’t push too hard, then He really did let me in.
When He didn’t readily confide in me I did feel helpless, but the key was to go on giving what He needed from me. Being there and offering my presence as well as, when He wanted it His property – i.e. all of me that He owns.
I am not sure that it is about rules, once again I am not sure that Master is a man for rules for Himself. But for me to have given up what I have, there must be trust. I trust Him completely to keep me safe during my submission. So He that would be his bit of the contract, as it were.