What submission means to me

Last week I joined the SafeworD/s Club a chat community and website run by Missy and His Lordship. This is a great resource for both new D/s couples and also those who have been around for longer. I joined the live chat session and hope to get back soon. It was great to share experiences and find out more about everyone. I urge you to go take a look. They are also running a new Meme; Tell Me About, which started this week. The first topic is submission.

Throw-back Thursday photo from 2016

I have written about my submission many times. In fact, 177 times in the past I have labelled a post ‘submission’. Not surprising since I have been writing about this journey of mine for almost 7 years.

In the beginning

I didn’t really know what I was letting myself in for, nor did I really know what submission was (or what it wasn’t). My knowledge essentially came from books provided through my kindle in a pre 50 shades world. Many were just as unrealistic as that particular tale, often depicting a very young woman hooking up with a mega rich dominant. The more I read though, the more I realised that there was something in there for me. Mainly a world where I wouldn’t have to be the one to make all of the decisions and one where there would be sex and a lot of it. I didn’t know back then if I would enjoy the other elements such as pain and restraint. It turned out I did.

Immediately I started my first D/s relationship, I knew I should write about it. I must have had some kind of inkling that there would be no turning back and that has proved to be the case. I don’t want to go back over those early feelings (given I have written so much about them), but the archives, with links from the early days are here.

What my submission means to me now

Submission is now a way of life. It isn’t something that happens to me when we have sex, I am restrained or being flogged. Though they certainly enhance it. Instead it is more of a mindset. Something I consider when I am going about my daily life. I have agreed to serve my dominant, my Master. So, I try to think about him and what he wants and needs throughout the day. This is easier since I gave up work and actually since my cancer diagnosis.

Before, there were many competing priorities. Sometimes I felt I should be putting him first but felt I couldn’t. Many times I knew I should prioritise my own well being, but didn’t. Even when he told me I should.

During the first few weeks after I moved in with him, there was a period of adjustment. I struggled to work out who I was and what I wanted. But gradually things fell into place. I relaxed into the role we carved out for me and I began to feel calmer and more at peace with myself than I have for a very long time. If ever.

It is difficult to say what exactly is different. Just that it feels it. A bit like when you live with someone before marriage and then have a wedding. Something changes, but you are not sure what. In many ways we are a partnership, cooking and tackling household chores together. We are out a lot as we pursue cultural interests, enjoy good food and wine and we travel a lot. We also give each other space, but be communicate too and maybe that is the crux of things. Ensuring we can express not only what we want and need, but what we feel about those things. I serve him but am not waiting on him hand and foot. He has the last word, but cares for my needs deeply. Plus he washes up, makes my morning coffee and can cook too.

Ever since he named me MPB, Master has called me his pleasing and pleasure bitch. Lately he has been calling me his precious bitch. When he takes my submission it provides him with the power he needs. But we also trust each other implicitly to take care of each other. Lately he has been doing rather more of that and for once in my life I have allowed that to happen. Perhaps, at last I am happy in my submissive self. Cared for, loved and precious.

tellmeabout
February Photofest

Talking dirty

I’m not a vocal person when I’m having sex. But just because I don’t scream with pleasure, doesn’t mean I’m not enjoying it. Nor does it mean that I am not aroused or not about to come. Given the choice I would internalise all of the feelings I have about what I am doing and just allow them to wash over me. But I don’t really have the choice, since Master demands a reaction from me. During sex he will be talking dirty and when he does, I do too.

Running commentary

Master likes to tell me exactly what he is doing to me and how it is making him feel. If his cock is deep inside me he will let me know how deep it is and how wet I am. These tend to be things I already know, but the fact he is telling me concentrates my mind. He loves to talk about breeding me, which is something I would have liked too, if we had met sooner. This is one of his fantasies and I actually find it reassuring, it shows he loves me that much.

Much of what he says though could be described as both dirty and degrading, if you were of that mind. He call’s me a bitch and a slut and asks me who I am and if I am his. He derives enormous power from the things I say to him, that I am his slave, his pleasing bitch, his slut. You see I am not just any bitch or slut, but HIS and that is what is important. His dominance over me is confirmed for him when I am talking dirty to him, especially as my natural stat is not to speak at all. This confirms his power and authority and in that moment he is not only my Master, but my Lord too.

How talking dirty feels to me

When I tell Master that I am his pleasing bitch it reaffirms my submission. Reminds me of the slave I agreed to be and am. It helps me to focus on him and on nothing else and to remember who is the boss here. I am a consenting and willing participant, but he is in charge and calls the shots. I am there to please him, to be the slut he wants and needs. Uttering those words puts me into a space I don’t tend to inhabit all of the time.

That means that while most of our dirty talk takes place in the bedroom, or perhaps playroom there are other times. He might come up behind me, hold me and whisper in my ear: “who’s bitch are you” and of course I will answer that I am his. He rarely calls me Julie, but instead girl. This is all part of his belief that I remember my submission better if I am constantly reminded of it. Knowing that I am this girl really does focus me. And when he calls me bitch or slut instead of girl, my cunt clenches and submission becomes sexual arousal. Which I guess is all part of what I am and who I am. Master’s Pleasing Bitch, sex slave to her Master.

Our dynamic

Our relationship dynamic, Master / slave can be described as a total power exchange. I, the submissive person have given control for much of my life to my Dominant partner. This has been a gradual process over a period of almost 5 years. While working and living in my own house I always retained at least some responsibility for my needs. While there has been no visible change since I moved in with Master I sense a growth in his power over me, and my submission too.

For many people practicing BDSM is a part time pursuit, something that takes place in the bedroom, a club or dungeon. Where each takes a role, for the duration of that session. There may be rope, or impact play, one might take a dominate role and the other the bottom or submissive. Even perhaps, roles are switched depending on mood and partner. In the early days, we intended our relationship to be more about play. But it soon became clear that we wanted and needed something more. Once he had asked me to be his slave and we had begun to negotiate what that might mean, there was no looking back.

Over the past couple of weeks as the old year came to an end and this new one has started I have been reflecting on our relationship. This has partly come about through writing my end of year blog posts. But also because I have been doing some thinking and reading. Master also bought me a new collar, and just yesterday a ring arrived for my regular one. This will enable him to be able to use a lead more when we are playing.

Thoughts on my submission

Living here with Master has enabled me to give more control of my life to him. Before, I always felt I must retain control financially and of family situations. There was also work, which of course came with responsibilities. Although I am still making decisions about what I want to do, I am doing less telling and more asking about them. I have my own money and I can and do spend it. But we are living in his house and there is more dependence on my part. While this may have scared the life out of me in the past, it no longer does. Indeed it fills me with pleasure.

My illness has shown me that it is ok to rely on another for support and yes, decision making. But the funny thing is, I don’t feel the need to take the control I have given up back from him. Indeed, I can see myself giving up more and more. This is strange, since I didn’t even realise I had more to give.

For a long time I have resisted some of the signs of submission Master asked for. Ones related to dress (wearing underwear), my hair length and getting a tattoo, spring to mind, but there are others. It feels though that this year I should take the plunge and open myself up to becoming the slave I know he desires.

Thoughts on his dominance

Power is the major driver for Master. When we play, it is the very fact that my body reacts in the way it does, to his body and the toys he uses, that drives him. During sex, he loves that he can control me and my orgasms. He loves that he can call me names such as bitch and it excites me. Me being his property is something that we both acknowledge and that enables his dominance to shine though. In those moments I am slave, MPB, this girl.

When I gave myself to him totally I also gave my limits. We had agreed what they were and as we moved along the power exchange continuum I realised that he could and should own them. I can still call red (though I haven’t) and he will stop. My consent has been given for Master to make the decisions in the bedroom, playroom and in life. But importantly this is reaffirmed regularly. He does so in such a way that I must state that my limits belong to him and uttering those words make him feel more dominant. Nothing makes me happier.

I know this isn’t a relationship for everyone. I didn’t even know it was for me and indeed I do question it myself from time to time. But 2019 definitely feels like the year for an exploration into how far this dynamic might take us.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Reclaimed

It had been perhaps 2 weeks since my last orgasm. There hadn’t been much in the opportunity or indeed desire during our week apart. For one, it was too hot in a bedroom where the air conditioning wasn’t used. A preference of the other occupant. For another I didn’t feel the need and for another my orgasms really don’t belong to me. 

His fingers explored my damp folds and he leaned down to inspect his property. As he placed his mouth over my clit I felt my excitement build and my cunt grow wetter. I took his hard cock in my hand and worked it a little. His tongue still moving over my piercing, he slipped a finger into my vagina. I was moist but a little tight after the abstinence, so he moved his finger in and out, then inserted another. Suddenly the need to orgasm was at the forefront of my mind; an urgent need. Thankfully the countdown was only 5, else I might not have been able to hold back. This was a clitoral orgasm of the finest order.

As he pushed his cock inside me, a feeling of relief overwhelmed. Master is reclaiming his slave, he told me and that is how it felt. He told me to cum again, and this time I felt a gush from inside my cunt and I began to float. He asked me who I was, the answer flowed easily from my lips  – “this girl is Master’s slave”.

Pulling away he instructed me to mount him, so I got off the bed while he rolled onto his back. I climbed aboard and his cock slid into my now wide and slick hole. I tightened my hips and moved up and down on his throbbing dick as he rubbed my clit. More orgasms flowed from me and he pulled me forward arching his hips from underneath. my inner slut was now in full force and I became an orgasm producing machine. Spent, I lay beside him and he took me one last time, releasing his seed into my throbbing body.

I had been reclaimed.

Black bra

This afternoon, given the cool and wet weather we decided to sort out some of my clothes. Since I moved in with Master a month ago, the weather has generally been pretty warm and dry. Over the past week there has been a gradual deterioration until today it is dull, cool and very wet. With the change in seasons waiting around the corner there was a need to unpack more clothes. Plus a couple of trips away in the next few weeks mean that I will need to free up some luggage. 

The first bag I unpacked contained underwear. As I sorted through the bras, Master picked out this lovely black number. He was interested to understand when I bought it, and if I had ever worn it, since it is padded. To be honest, it fits him better than me. And to answer his questions, I don’t know and probably never. 

He looks amazing and what’s more he loved wearing it and put his shirt back on, over the top. Next we found a couple of leather bras Master bought me, but which I have rarely worn. Of course I slipped into one of them and also the fetching collar you can see me wearing below.

Me wearing a leather bra and collar with the words bitch.

That’s pretty much all the unpacking we did today, since one thing led to another and we retired to bed. I am not sure that some of the other unpacking we still need to do will be quite so much fun, but you never know.

Sinful Sunday

This slave’s tail

It has been a very long time since this slave felt that she had provided service in the way her Master originally expected.

She isn’t so much disobedient or even unruly (no matter what Master would tell you). But it is about circumstance, timing and yes, laziness, on both sides. But this girl can feel the end of that time in her life coming to an end.

This weekend has been about getting ready for this slave’s future. There will be many more weekends like this until our move is complete. Time when we will be clearing out rubbish, putting things in bags and packing up the things that will be going to Master’s house.

Meanwhile, this weekend, there has been sex, raw passionate sex. And there has been submission time for this this girl naked and open for her Master to take. Clothed without underwear allowing him to have access at any time. A reawakening, a realisation of what might have previously been denied and hidden. His for the taking.

Many months ago, Master bought his girl a tail. She had coveted a bushy tail after seeing one at one of the sexy markets, London Alternative or Birmingham Bizarre Bizarre. One day when the slave arrived at his place, he presented to her. This would be a way for her to show her slutty side and to be his bitch. But, for one reason or another though, probably we were busy and there wasn’t time and it didn’t get used.

On Sunday Master firmly fucked his girl in the ass. The second time in recent weeks as our sex life has taken on new life. The plan was to use the tail for Sinful Sunday, but actually that might have been a little painful. And for one reason and another we didn’t post on Sinful Sunday this week.

On Monday though, the slave finally wore the tail. Still a little sore, inserting the butt plus was a bit of a challenge. But the effect was wonderful, and it won’t be long before that tail comes out again. Maybe she may even wear it out at an event. Till then, here is a photo taken by Master yesterday.

Blogging A-Z 2018: H

This is the third year that I have participated in Blogging A-Z. This year i am going to try to make my topics a little more mainstream. They will, however clearly link to kink and may on occasion be NSFW.

H is for His

He cals her girl. This girl; His girl
He is her Master, her Lord and she His slave
She is His slut, His cum puppy. He controls her orgasms, they belong to Him; His.

He is her owner and she His property
People may find this difficult to understand but for her this is fact. She is His to love, to hold and to control.

Her body is pierced for His pleasure; nipples and clitoris. Her pleasure is His to have, to hold and to control.
She wears a collar, His collar. This is a sign of her slavery of His ownership, that she is His property.

She is His Bitch, Master’s Pleasing Bitch

 

 

J is for……..

Japanese clover clamp and joolz

There aren’t too many kinky words that begin with J, and to be honest the Japanese in front of clover clamp seems to be a bit of a cop out. Still technically it begins with J so here goes.

Nipple clamps feature much less in our play times now that this girl has her nipples pierced. But she does love the feeling of the way the clamps pinch, especially when they first go on. After a while, and when they are pulled by some sadistic Master they get much more painful. But the pain belies the effect they have on this girl. You see, nipple play of any kind and especially clamping has an amazing effect on this girl’s arousal. She becomes very wet very quickly and she feels that tingling and throbbing down in her groins. Her clit enlarges, even without direct stimulation there too. Master has previously attached a clamp to this girl’s clit and that was fucking very painful, but again very very arousing. Master likes to tease this girl about the relationship that exists between her nipples and her sexual arousal and the fact that he can bring her off by playing and causing pain to her nipples alone. Of course he loves that fact, as does this girl.

joolz is the name that this girl uses online quite a lot. The name was first used by family friends when she was younger and for quite some time her brothers called her this too. Over the years though people reverted to calling her by her given name. Being a little unadventurous and also quite liking the name, she chose it for the name of her first kinky blog, uses it on Fetlife and other places for chat. Indeed when she met both Master and before that S, they first knew her as jolly.

During the course of the first few months together, Master read all of this girl’s blog and continues to read both current and past posts today. After a while, he said that in his opinion this girl was becoming less like the persona she seemed to have created as joolz – sexy and submissive yes, still that. But elements of her behaviour had changed and she was becoming much more the obedient slave that she (mostly) is today. So, she became MPB – Master’s pleasing bitch and of course she already has become this girl. When a decision was made to change over blogs joolz was left behind and julie emerged  – julie who is Master’s pleasing bitch.

500

This is post 500 of MPB and its predecessor World of Joolz. When I started writing in April 2012, I could never have envisaged the changes that would have occured in my life, or indeed that I would still be writing nearly 3 and a half years later. But here I am, no longer a bored housewife with a full time job, son at university and husband who knew nothing of my needs as a woman. At that time, I was just discovering that I was submissive. I was more than a little bit vulnerable to some of the men I was encountering online. But I did have the sense not to entirely fall for all of their charms. My journey as a submissive has had a profound effect on my life, and having this place to journal that progress has been valuable. Reading back to the beginning today, it feels like I was a different woman back then. Someone looking for more than she had experienced before, partly that was about sex but also something deep within her to be released.

Fast forward to now and while there are loose ends to tie, I am free of many of the previous burdens I felt at the time were weighing me down. I have learned to leave behind some of the things that threatened to overcome me. The burden of a thirty year relationship, one that I was unfulfilled by. The pressures of juggling a full time job with family responsibilities. The need to be everything to everyone. The need to serve, but without knowing who or what I needed to provide that service to.

Master and I seem to be settled in our life together. The collar gives a stability that I didn’t really know I needed. Unlike a wedding ring, it doesn’t bind us to conform to the stereotypical norms of most couples. We continue to live separately, while our lives are completely intertwined. I am the slave He wants and needs and it is the power that He has over me when He sees, hears and feels my submission that makes Him the Dominant that He is. Yesterday afternoon as I knelt, naked at His feet, wearing only my collar and cuff, head in between His legs, sucking His cock, I felt as happy as it is possible to feel. There is a need in me that he is able to satisfy, that is to worship and serve Him as my Dominant. Kneeling before Him, feeling His hands on the body that He owns, pinching, squeezing but also gently caressing gives me a sexual desire that I previously only read about in books.

This blog has chronicled some incredible highs over its lifespan, but also some real lows – the difficulties of ending a long marriage, the pain of rejection and realisation that the man I thought I might love didn’t return those feelings, and the death of my father. There will of course be more difficulties to come, but I have faith that there are many many more good times to come and to be recorded here on this blog.

So, onwards to the next 500 posts – I have been a poor blogger recently, but will try to change that and post daily till the end of the month. A challenge to myself!!

Nakedness

This girl has been losing weight, not as quickly as she would like, but slowly and surely. There have been times that she hasn’t wanted to see herself naked, though of course, she can never hide herself from Master. He has begun to recognise that she is serious about this and is encouraging the positive behaviours that will help (i.e. He is taking this girl to places where choices will be easier and reminding her of the rules relating to making Him pleased and proud of her) which is generally enough.

Today, this girl wore just two items of clothing – some cotton trousers and a top. Tonight after dinner, which Master had cooked, she stripped off, without being asked, for His pleasure.

For the first time in months this girl feels happy sitting naked as she types this. She feels happy to present herself as Master, her Lord’s slut and slave (not that she isn’t always pleased to be His slave). But tonight at last, she feels proud. Her reward has been several orgasms. Plus His pleasure in touching His property, in objectifying her and in taking the orgasms that He owns.

On days like this, a slave can wonder why it is that she doesn’t spend more of her time naked for His pleasure. Of course, life tends to get in the way. But since she is here to serve, she is here to be the person He wants and needs; and naked is what He wants.

A naked girl sits beside her Master right now. While He is fully clothed.

That is the natural order of life for this slave.