There are one or two blog posts around today covering humiliation as a topic. Aisha has a wonderful poem in her post on the subject and sin has been talking about things that are humiliating but within the limits of what is ok and those that were outside those limits but are now not.
One of the things i learn about myself is that the limits i thought i had, the things i thought humiliating now aren’t.
Many people hate being called a whore or a slut. I also hate these terms when used by people other than Sir and perhaps even by Sir when used out of context. But when he knows i am not wearing underwear and he calls me a slut, i love it. When we talk about my love of anal sex and he calls me a whore i love that too.
On our very first date, on that first night. i dressed in a short skirt, which only just covered my stockings and suspenders. i wore black heeled shoes that i could barely walk in and i walked into a bar and ordered a drink. i sat at a table and waited until Sir who i had barely met in person came into the bar and asked to join me. He had us move to another table with lower chairs where he could observe and touch me more easily and then we tried to engage in normal ‘we’ve just met and are just having a chat’ conversation while he ran his hand up my stocking top in pretty much full view of the bar.
This was humiliating, sir told me later that i was a slut for doing it, but i loved it. The whole time experiencing a combination of blind panic and amazing exhilaration.
My favourite thing about my journey into this new lifestyle is the way in which i am discovering so much more about me. It is a journey that i never expected but which i am just loving!