Thoughts on kneeling

I am hooded and kneeling, hands on the floor. I am wearing a collar and leash and am naked.

I’ve written a few times about kneeling, that well known symbol of submission. There are also a few images of me doing so, including the one above. That one is in a particular context that doesn’t happen often. But in this post I wrote about some of the practical issues and believe me they are real. Nearly 4 years have passed since then and I’m closer to 60 than 50. Plus medication following my breast cancer treatment has led to stiffer joints.

But I do like to kneel from time to time. There is no doubt that kneeling before Master, especially if he is clothed and I naked will always be special. It definitely does something to my head. It seems weird to say so, but it really does make me feel more submissive. I love when he reaches down and touches my hair, or when he holds my head still as I suck his cock.

In the main our symbols of submission are less overt these days. When I wrote that and other posts about kneeling we didn’t live together. Kneeling was one of those rituals that helped centre me and us back into our roles as dominant and submissive. But these days we are together pretty much all the time. In fact just a hand on my bottom, or a pull on my collar are sufficient.

However I plan to continue to kneel when it feels right or he demands it. I tend to need a cushion to kneel on and a hand to get up. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to do so nor does it mean I won’t. I’d just prefer not to kneel too much. Luckily he doesn’t tend to demand it often. which I guess makes it that bit special when he does and I do.

This post is linked to No True Way. Click below to see who else has written about kneeling this week.

Master with a capital M

Photo by Sara Kurfeß on Unsplash

I’m really happy about the No True Way prompt for this week, because I’ve never written about this topic before.

Dominants tend to be the “Alpha Male”, and that is why “Dom” is always spelled with a capital, while “sub” is always lowercase.

First of all let me say I am incredibly inconsistent when it comes to the use of upper / lower case. There was a time when I always capitalised dominant, sir, master etc. There was also a time when I used a lower case I to refer to myself. I guess at the start of my submissive journey I followed what I saw others doing and what I saw written in books. But over time I decided that it would be better grammar and writing practice to capitalise properly. But to be honest it depends on my mood and what I’m writing about.

Being in a submissive mindset

Way back when I was busy discovering my submission my world view was a little romantic. I liked the idea of having my very own dominant and being his submissive. Writing about my experiences was fun and sometimes very arousing. Part of that was overplaying the dynamic a little. Referring to him as Sir or Master helped with what felt a bit like role play.

When I met my now master he wanted me to refer to myself in the third person (as I wrote here). So, it felt right to capitalise him as Sir / Master and to refer to myself as this girl (lower case). Submission felt tangible to me, I wrote about almost being able to touch it. Some days I still feel like that. But at that time we really only saw each other at weekends and during the week I’d write about it. That kept me in my space and I wrote in the third person.

Over time I wrote about other things

Not just our relationship. So gradually I wrote in the third person less and also capitalised the dominant role less. However if I wrote about us and the things we had done I often reverted. Sometimes I still do.

It occurred to me recently that though I always refer to G as Master (or master) here it’s not something I always do in real life. We live together and are partners in many ways. The power exchange is always there, an undercurrent. But isn’t always overt even to us. Calling him Master here is a habit, but also helps to protect our anonymity, even if there are photos of us both on this blog.

I’m not precious about whether I or others capitalise or not

I’m not part of the grammar police, though I prefer correct spellings. I am happy to read blogs and books where the words sir and master are capitalised, or not. I recognise my own inconsistencies and make no excuse for them. I’ll continue to do what I feel is right on any given day. After all, this is my blog and I’ll write what I want in whichever way I choose.

This post is linked to two memes. No True Way and The Blog Days of Summer. Click below to see who else is joining in.

Love and life right now

Covid-19 Virus Coronavirus - Free image on Pixabay

Deep down I knew that the Coronavirus lockdown would last for months rather than weeks. But that doesn’t mean to say that I was emotionally prepared for it. Back in those early days at the end of March we were busy with home projects. During much of April we had good weather so eating lunch in the garden or on our balcony was a regular thing. We are used to spending lots of time together, so there was nothing new. Anyway, I was planning to be out a bit working. Then last week it was cold and wet, our projects were stuck and the work opportunity vanished. For a few days I felt without purpose and just plain miserable. I know Master feels it too. But I and we are fighting back. Below are my thoughts on the past 7 weeks detailing different parts of our love and life.

Getting things done

Over the winter we finally started to sort the house out. When I moved in nearly two years ago there was a lot of clutter which meant insufficient room for many of my things. I have my office which was completed last summer and so have my books there. But much of my treasured possessions remain in the garage and a lot of clothes are in boxes under the bed. So, where to start?

Master’s books were stacked everywhere in the living and dining room. So much so that I’ve never eaten at the dining table in this house. So I suggested the place to start was in those rooms. Progress was rapid and before Christmas we had specialist shelving installed on one side of both rooms. Then in March (after we’d finished decorating) the shelving was complete. I ordered new blinds for the windows and imagined we’d soon be straight.

But we have 7 or 8 empty bookshelves waiting to move and nowhere to put them. The household recycling centre closed in March and so we were stuck. Then the factory making my blinds closed and we had already thrown out the rails and curtains. I did manage to paint the hallway and want to continue into the kitchen, but we have nowhere to put the kitchen contents.

There is light at the end of the tunnel now because the recycling centres start reopening next week. I’m feeling hopeful that the blinds might be made soon too. I need to feel that we can get things done and make our enforced time at home worthwhile. Right now I feel more hopeful about that than I’ve done to date.

Lethargy

On the whole we have retained much of the structure of our life. Neither of us is working (we’ve both taken early retirement) so we don’t need to be up early, but I am a bit of an early bird. Master on the other hand is something of a night owl. I have learned over the past couple of years not to leap out of bed too early and having me around has encouraged him up sooner. We also have a more structured bed time than he previously had.

Our life is usually quite busy though. We go out to lots of cultural events – concerts, galleries, exhibitions and festivals. So, when there is nothing in the diary you need more than an occasional food shopping trip to make it feel worth getting up and going for.

At times we have both been filled with energy and enthusiasm to do things and at others not. Funnily enough not at the same time. I think this might be a good thing, because being lethargic together means we both struggle to do anything at all. We’ve tried to encourage each other on, but at times the frustration shows. We don’t argue often but when we do it isn’t pleasant. This week we’ve had late night arguments twice, something I’d like to avoid going forward.

Work

Having announced to the world I was going back to nursing, I embarked on induction and training in my own time. Then just as I thought I was about to be let loose on the world they decided they didn’t really need me. Well they haven’t said that but that’s the implication. I have uniforms in my wardrobe and PPE in my car. Both will be returned if nothing happens, but it has made me feel really fed up.

Thankfully a new opportunity has arisen, which is to help with the contact tracing that will be needed to loosen lockdown. This work will definitely happen and I have a paid training shift in my diary and have some work shifts booked too. It is also a bit more money than the original work. This job will mean working from home, so no need for uniform or PPE. Plus, I think this is going to be a really worthwhile job that will need to continue for some time.

Master on the other hand has no intention of going back to work. Instead he is managing our financial affairs which took a bashing in March. Thankfully they are recovering with a few changes. Secondly he is rewriting a wikipedia page for a Spanish author and poet and that’s keeping him busy. Now the books are organised on shelves he has a veritable library to consult. His other project is to map Covid across a number of countries as he prefers his own charts and graphs. These things will help us both going forward I think because we have no idea when we can do the things we want out of the house or travel.

Love and sex

It would be safe to say that neither of us have much in the way of an active libido right now. We’ve had good sex, but not frequently and we haven’t played at all. It’s strange but at a time when we are unable to touch others we aren’t really touching each other much either. I’m not sure why that is. Both of us are making a conscious effort to instigate touch, often when we sit together in the evening. At night Master will put a hand on me, especially if I’ve been snoring. There have been a few hugs, but I feel we need to make an effort to do more.

I’ve written some sexy posts and read some sexy and erotic books and blog posts. But it has been hard to transfer those feelings to our own life. I’m hoping that we can find a way to prioritise those things. Longer days and warmer weather will help as will being active independently of each other during the day times.

Moving forward

I know we are lucky. We are together, haven’t taken a drop in income (other than our long term savings, but they will recover) nor do we need to homeschool any children. But that doesn’t mean that we find the current situation easy. We have mourned the loss of the life we had and don’t know when or if we will get all of it back. I’ve been sad to see former colleagues losing their colleagues, team or organisation members. I’ve also hated the decisiveness of the recent arguments in the sex blogging community. All of this takes its toll.

So, going forward I hope we can soon restart our work in the house. I also have some plans for the garden, since I’ll be here and so can actually grow some stuff. Flowers and also one or two vegetables. Fingers crossed the planned work comes to fruition this time and that we can regain a little of the structure we had lost. I hope that we’ll be able to go out places and walk more as we get to summer. At present a lot of woodlands etc. are open but you can’t park.

As for sex, well I plan to try to make more of an effort because I think my libido is more suppressed than Masters, partly because of my medication. But I would love him to do so too. I don’t feel terribly submissive a lot of the time and know we need to work on this too. But I do feel we can, I do feel hopeful and just a bit positive right now.

Sexual Service

I am kneeling over the sofa. Wearing only a top. My arse and labia are visible and exposed.

I am a sex slave. My role to Master is to provide him with sexual service when he requires it. But also to be ready for him to use me when he wishes. This post is a work of fiction based on a limited amount of reality but mostly reading, fiction and non fiction.

My word of the day is RULES. Every day Master texts me a word or occasionally phrase while we are both at work. At the weekends, if we are home he tells me the word. Corner time is at 4pm which is shortly after I arrive home. I remove my clothes and then kneel on the floor in a corner of our room on a carefully placed pillow. Knees wide, back straight and hands behind my head. The purpose is for me to concentrate on my word while naked and vulnerable. To think about the meaning of the word and it’s relation to my service.

I know the rules by heart. I know that the key purpose of my role as Master’s sex slave is to be his slut and to provide him with sexual service. The rules are in place to make sure I do just that.

Rule number 1

I shall always be available for his use. This means that I do not wear underwear unless he says I should. In effect this means wearing a bra at work. At home I am often naked, unless we expect visitors or it is very cold. I also wear an apron when cooking. There is a certain vulnerability to never wearing panties, especially when I am aroused or hot. I often think others can small my cunt, though no one has ever mentioned it. When sitting I am not to cross my legs, often Master will tell me to sit with them wide open, even when we are out. This can be humiliating, but also a massive turn on.

When he decides I am to provide sexual service, to be used, which is most days, I must thank him. I beg him to use my holes, to come inside my slut body. Or, of course outside if he wishes. Whichever I thank him for the gift of his come.

Rule number 2

I am not allowed to touch my cunt nor come without permission. However Master tells me to touch myself often for his pleasure. This is fine when we are home alone together, less easy when we are out or have people over. Often when we are out eating dinner I will have been instructed to play with my clit. To bring myself close to climax, to edge. One hand on my fork and another on my lap, or so you may think. Other times it will be his fingers that stroke and tease. He studies me closely, watching my cheeks grow pink. He’ll then make me come when we get into the car, there in the car park or by the side of the road.

I am able to control my orgasms quite well, even when he uses the wand on me. But I really have to focus, to concentrate on my submission and remember that he is the owner of my body and my orgasms. He takes great pleasure in making me come the moment he demands. I don’t know how he does that!

Rule number 3

He is known to me as Master or Lord and I am this girl, slut or slave depending on his desires. I understand the meaning of this. I am nothing but the name Master choses to call me. Of course I have a name at work or when with family or vanilla friends. But always I know that I am property. His and his alone. He is my Lord and Master. I worship him and await his need to use me. That isn’t to say that I am not loved, cherished and cared for. Sometimes I am his pet, often his lover. He takes care of me, cooks for me, takes me to lovely places and buys me things. That he owns me is calming, reassuring. It makes me feel safe, wanted. His.

Rule number 4

I have a number of daily tasks, these sometimes change. Each morning I suck his cock if required. I also stand or sit in the shower or bath while he pees on me. I can’t say I enjoy it but I am used to it. It is warm and I have come to appreciate the feeling. I find it arousing, indeed humiliation to me is a massive turn on. After a shower and I have shaved my pussy, legs and underarms, I insert the plug he has chosen for me. This is worn for 2-3 hours so is removed in the bathroom at work. I dress in the way he wishes, often looking quite demure from the outside.

Throughout the day we keep in contact. Be both have busy and demanding jobs, but text a few times. There is usually a photo for me to take and send though.

Rule number 5

I kneel and present myself when Master arrives home

My working day is until 3pm. This fits in well with my sexual service duties and also those around the house. As mentioned above I spend half an hour in quiet contemplation before moving on to any house work and meal preparation. That’s not to say Master doesn’t do his fair share of house work etc. Because he does. He is particularly responsible for food shopping and this is one area where I tell him what might be needed.

Master texts me as he leaves work or the shops and I then prepare for his homecoming. This is a special time for us both. I kneel in the living room and wait in readiness for him. He greets his slave and inspects my body and asks for details of my day. Then he goes to change while I start dinner or put things away. Then he will open wine and we’ll often share the cooking chores.

There was a time when I would spend the evening at his feet while we watched TV or played music and chatted. But now I’m that bit older the sofa has become a better place to be, for us both.

Our evenings tend to be like most other peoples. Except I am usually naked and he is likely to be stroking some part of his property or making me suck his cock as he feels appropriate. Often we will retire to the play room where Master will restrain his slave and torture me. Pain and pleasure are such amazing bedfellows.

This is the life I chose

When we met, I quickly learned what life would be like if we came together as a couple. Master and slave. He was clear that it was a sex slave he desired. One he could use for his pleasure, whether sex or play. We discussed and wrote down our kinks and fetishes. On the day of our collaring ceremony I gave myself willingly to him. My limits are now his. Most decisions (outside work and my family) are his. The body that belonged to me is now his, as are the orgasms and control. He has total power over me and this is the life I chose. My role is to provide sexual service to my Lord.

Fucked on a picnic table

This story is loosely based on fact. I really was fucked on a picnic table in the woods while wearing a leather collar and leash. But the rest of it is part of my fantasy of what might have happened that day. Content warning: Consent Non-consent (CNC), Humiliation.

I am kneeling on the seat of a picnic table. My dress is pulled up to my waist and I am exposing my bottom.
A throwback picture not linked to the original event

A story of being fucked on a picnic table

If ever you go into the woods and stumble across a picnic table, do you wonder who was there before you? What might have happened here? And before you sit down and unwrap the sandwiches you might want to get out the wet wipes, because maybe the last people here fucked on that picnic table.

We met in the car park. As instructed I was wearing a summer dress, sensible shoes and nothing else. Although it was only around 10am the sun was high in the sky and it was warm. In those days I was yet to acquire a car with air conditioning, the open windows did nothing to cool my throbbing cunt. Anticipation rather than heat was at work here. You see, I had no idea what was in store for me. The man I was meeting was very keen on fantasy games and I was his willing victim.

I travelled light, apart from the lack of clothing I only carried a small bag, containing my purse and other essentials. Stuff you don’t really need in the woods (my phone maybe, but signals were poor). He carried a largish rucksack, containing lunch and who knew what else. Not me at that point anyway. He took my bag and put it inside his.

Of course he felt me up in the car park, in front of anyone who happened by, though I can’t remember if any one did. We hadn’t seen each other for a few weeks and we had the hots for each other. I might have fucked there and then if he had requested it. He put a leather collar around my neck and attached a leash, there in the middle of the car park. Then he walked me into the dense woodland and once inside, blindfolded me.

Completely dependent on him I followed his instructions about where to step. Periodically the leash would pull tight and I’d almost stumble. But as instructed I was silent. Concentrating on the sounds and smells of the forest. I had no idea if others were around us and was both humiliated and excited at this sign of my submission. I lingered on the edge of orgasm, made worse as my cunt leaked fluid that caused my thighs to slide together as I walked. I momentarily wondered if I would be permitted an orgasm today.

Suddenly he told me to drop to my knees, as I did so the collar pulled tight against my neck. I assumed the required pose, my knees wide, hands resting loosely on them. I heard some rustling and knew what was in store. Obediently I opened my mouth to take the cock that was thrust into it. I savoured the saltiness of his pre-cum and the very size of what filled my mouth.

“Good cunt” he groaned at me. I concentrated on sucking, my mouth wide and drool already running down my chin. His fingers reached inside my summer dress and pinched my left nipple. “take me girl, take this cock” He said as I felt a sharp pain, a clamp now pinched my breast. I groaned around the huge dick filling my mouth and tensed as pain throbbed through both breasts. For a while I was lost giving him the pleasure he demanded.

He pulled away and pulled me to my feet. His fingers groping for my clit, large and engorged, before pushing two into my dripping cunt. “you are such a wanton slut aren’t you” he asked. I nodded, because it was true. I was and am. “what do you want slut?” he asked. “speak”.

“Your cock Sir”

“Come” he gently pulled on the leash and I followed. My knees knocked into something hard and putting my hands out I felt wood. I ran my hands over the grain. “It’s a picnic table” I could hear him grinning. “We can have lunch here, but first, I’m going to fuck you on it.

Sir Helped me kneel on the seat and then to lean over it. He secured rope around my wrists and tied me to the table. I was now unable to move, though had no desire to do so. I felt his cock pushing into my soaking cunt as I lay secured to the table top. My knees were grazed a little by the wood. My nipples, with the clamps still attached sending ripples of pain through my body. He took his pleasure from me. A wanton slut, blindfolded and collared. Unaware that behind her there were 3 men watching and wanking.

Because as well as taking care about the cleanliness of a picnic table, you should also beware of mentioning your fantasies. Such as the one about being fucked in the woods while others watch.

To be continued!

I am, because we are

It is a coincidence that as I walked home yesterday I was thinking about this topic. Wondering about who I am now as we enter the 7th year of our life together. Wondering whether I am worthy as his submissive and partner. I came to the conclusion that we are where we are because of who we are, together. So, some background.

Last weekend was the 6th anniversary of the day we met in person. This year we celebrated by going out for dinner. We often eat out, but usually it’s because we are doing something away from home and dinner out is easier. This was a meal out for itself.

Today I received notice that the first part of my divorce, the decree nisi will be heard in court in March. 6 weeks and one day later I will be divorced. My entire blog catalogues my own journey to this point. In many ways I am the person I was at the beginning, but of course events have changed me. Plus taking on the role of slave and starting a new long term relationship has added to that.

The person I was

Confused, probably sums it up. As I approached my 50th birthday I knew change was needed. My life wasn’t going as it should and I wanted something different. Trouble was I didn’t know what that different was or how to go about getting it. I consider my self lucky that the two men I met along the way helped guide me towards discovering what that might be. The fall out from my ex was hard to bear. Last week while reading some old posts from 2013 to link to my privacy post I came across some very disturbing writing.

My husband was playing me. I know that now since at the time he was already in another relationship (still unknown to me). But meanwhile he manipulated me and made me feel I was beyond dreadful for cheating on him. He made me sleep deprived by turning up early in the morning and then he snooped through my emails and was generally horrible. All the time I cooked meals for him if he decided to be home. Made sandwiches and did his washing. YES, I actually did those things. I was a complete doormat. I now know I should have kicked him out and changed the locks. But that’s with the benefit of hindsight.

The person I am

From the beginning of my relationship with Master things changed. He listened to me and helped me work out how to navigate the way ahead. I didn’t always to what he suggested to begin with. But usually there was some method in his ideas. His own other relationship was messy and so we worked through those times together. Sometimes that meant just being there for each other. I know there were times when he felt less dominant for it, but this was a human need not about power exchange dynamics. Not many months after we met my father became terminally ill and died. The support Master provided during that time set the scene for the kind of partner he would be.

Running parallel to all of those more intimate and personal elements of our relationship is the kink. Power, Dominance, submission, kinky sex and play. Over the years we have learned what is our norm. The things that feel safe and right. But we have also pushed each other to try new things.

For a very long time we played in the privacy of our own home and occasionally in a privately hired dungeon. It was also a while before we ventured to Munches and in the end it was through talking to people at those events that drew us to play events. Then recently we started meeting up with some people we met at one of those. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that often I’d prefer to stay at home. Well until I’m there that is. But that is also true of attending vanilla events even with friends.

Am I submissive enough? Is he dominant enough?

These were my thoughts as I listened to some podcasts while travelling yesterday (details below). My idea of submission at the beginning of this journey was based on erotica and other blogs. Training plans for submissives, men with dungeons in their basements, kneeling naked etc. It isn’t like that. For obvious reasons. But when Master tells me I’ve been bratty, I do stop and think. When he tells me to kneel and suck his cock I do it. When he asks me if I’ve achieved the things in my planner, I do reflect. And when he tells me his is proud of the person I glow with pride.

He has helped me become the slave he wants, but also I have helped him to become the dominant I need. Our life together is the one we have made together and it isn’t like anyone else’s I’m sure. But it occurs to me that we are who we are and I am the person I am because of us.

At some point soon, I am going to draw a line on some of the past. We share enough history on this blog not to need to go back further. The posts will remain but they will be archived from view. They are not ones that are retweeted anyway. Time to move on.

Thoughts generated from the following podcasts

Master's plaything

This would have been a great image for this objectification post from last week. But I wanted to save it for February Photofest. I’m not really sure why this hasn’t been featured before, but really happy to include it now. This was also taken at the secret Dungeon

As you can see my nipples are clamped, plus there is the hood and lead. I was definitely Master’s plaything that night!

Submitting

This week’s February Photofest theme is all about our kinks. My photos will highlight some of the fun times we’ve had both at home and some of the privately rented dungeons we’ve stayed in.

This image of me kneeling in submission was, I think taken at the secret dungeon. It was taken a few years ago, but hasn’t been seen on my blog before. I’ve entitled this submitting. Photo taken by Master.

Submissive training – is it necessary?

This prompt for Tell Me About has had me thinking for a few days. It is common to see information about ‘training your submissive’ in BDSM manuals and guides. Submissive training is also a big thing in fiction, for example the Brie series by Red Phoenix which is set in a training centre for submissive females. I can’t deny that I found the books extremely hot when I read them a few years ago. But is submissive training actually necessary for someone in a D/s or M/s relationship? And if so, what might it comprise of?

Submissive – born or made?

I don’t think you can train someone to actually be a submissive as such. It is something that comes from within, almost a need. However I do think there are elements of submission that take time to emerge. Reading about different types of relationship and considering what you as a submissive might want from them is useful. Understanding the elements of BDSM and what you, as a submissive want to find out more about, or try. Each dominant will have their own way of doing things and have ideas about how they wish the relationship to play out. Whether this takes the form of training, conditioning or something else is debatable.

Training vs education and learning

In a previous life I was education lead for a group of public sector organisations. I organised learning and development courses, bought places on university courses and was in charge of mandatory training. I hated the word training, though was forced to use it. That’s because without an element of educational learning behaviour can’t change. Maybe you can train a dog to fetch something, but we don’t generally do that with humans.

Learning new skills, understanding about consent and safety, finding someone in real life to help mentor as well as reading fiction and factual accounts of a dominant submissive lifestyle seems a good approach. I guess some dominants may train their submissives as they would a dog but I’m not sure that is a good approach. Even teaching positions, kneeling or preparation for anal sex should be about more than just practical training. Knowledge of your own body, elements of safety and learning from others is vital.

How did I learn to be the slave I am today?

Back at the beginning I found all I could about submission and BDSM in general through the internet. I joined forums and information sites and followed links to blogs. Then I read erotic novels and bought a couple of ‘how to’ books written by those with experience of the lifestyle. But it wasn’t until I got together with S that I began to understand what might be involved in a D/s relationship. Unfortunately that was when I realised I had a romantic view of being a submissive. However on the plus side I also discovered that I enjoyed pain, humiliation and degradation. By the end of that relationship, I had a better knowledge of what I wanted.

When I first met Master I was under the impression that I knew everything there was to know about being a submissive. But Master is a different kind of Dominant to S (as you’d expect). So I had to begin to learn how to be Master’s submissive. Bed room and play room stuff is easy in comparison to learning what they want from you as a person. It has been elements of my behaviour that have changed. This hasn’t happened through training but through reflection and communication. What’s more, we have learned together how to be each others Master and slave. And from that has come trust.

Reading and blogging as a learning tool

Writing about our experiences is a great way to reflect and learn. Especially through interaction with each other and some level of challenge. Master has always read this blog and continues to read current and past posts. Journaling is also useful, so long as there is an effort to think and review what has been written.

Many people find this blog through searching for submissive / slave relationships. So maybe I’m doing my bit in helping to educate a new generation of dominants and submissives. Or maybe it is just a way of getting off on some sexy writing. Who knows?

I for one love to read other D/s related blogs. All relationships are different and there is no one way of being a dominant or submissive. But it is great to learn and to reflect on those differences. Plus it gives us things to talk about when the Safeword D/s club meets online.

tellmeabout

Thoughts on submission

This is the second post in the Loving BDSM series 30 days of D/s.

Does a submissive have certain behaviors?

Over the past few years I have met many submissive people, in real life and through the blog and social media. There do seem to be common traits and behaviours that people share. There are many nurses and teachers in our midst, so perhaps caring and nurturing appeal to someone who identifies as submissive. We are often people who appear strong and independent, intelligent and able. But peel away the layers and there is often a vulnerability. A need to serve another, for structure, to be cared for. For me also, I have a need to give the responsibility for decision making to another person. Not for every aspect of life, but an increasing number things.

Do submissives do specific tasks?

There is no one type of submissive, so while many do specific tasks they won’t necessarily be the same ones. The key thing for me is a desire to serve, whether that is providing food, support or other practical things. Or else serving sexually, being ready for use in what ever way he chooses. I don’t have tasks that are expected to be done each day, but more general rules which relate to actions and behaviour.

When you think of a submissive and submission, what thoughts come to mind?

Submission for me is about acknowledging that my life is about serving my dominant, my Master. That he has total power and control of me in all aspects of life. In reality this means that I no longer have secrets, always discuss worries and concerns and where necessary and desirable defer to him for a decision. I often complain and argue but in the end I will usually accept his decision. Though he has been wrong on occasions and said so.

It is in the bedroom or playroom that my submission shows itself more effectively. That is because there I am able to shake off the thoughts and responsibilities of daily life and put myself in his hands. When orgasm control, cock worship, sexual play, impact play and other elements of BDSM come to play. That is when my submissive self more closely matches those you read about in fictional stories and M/s manuals.

But life can’t be one long dungeon scene and I wouldn’t want it to be. So in the main, and average person wouldn’t know I was a submissive. But Master does and that is what matters.

Loving BDSM 30 Days of D/s