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

Wayback when

I have a few photos that were taken before I regularly posted anything of myself. Wayback then, I was a little more worried about showing pictures of myself. Especially those of me in a somewhat compromising situation. Things have changed over the years.

This photo was taken at the very beginning of our relationship, almost exactly 5 years ago. At the end of our second or third playdate (I think). What you can’t see here (and I might show it another day) is my red pussy which had just been pumped. Not only did he clamp my nipples, but also used the zipper and spreader bar. The intensity of pain and of pleasure that day is something I can still remember even though I am short on details. It may have happened wayback when, but this is the first time I have shared this photo here.

February Photofest

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

The changing nature of my submission

#Sccwriting

The empowering nature of submission

There are times when I wonder if I am truly submissive. As I go about my daily life, making decisions and just getting on with things. Should I defer on all things? Should I ask for more direction? 

Well, no actually. After almost 5 years in this relationship we have settled into our roles. Yes, things have changed. I don’t feel the need to be in control all of the time in all things. I no longer need to know everything that is going to happen, I trust him to be in control. That includes deferring to him for advice in a way that I had never known possible before. Master has a quiet, but powerful way of getting me to make decisions where I need to or ensuring that he does where it is better for me. I know I am a strong woman, but I need his support in more ways than I even knew. What is more, I am happy and proud to be his submissive.

What does safe mean?

He makes me feel safe. Indeed, my submission gives me a safety net. It means that I trust him to look after me whether in daily life, or when we are playing. I feel safe that he is making the right decisions for me and us. That isn’t to say that I don’t argue, become ‘unruly’ or ‘bratty’. But who doesn’t push against what they know to be good for them? 

Safe also means a safe word. I may be a slave, but we have never abolished my safe word. While I have never used it, I would if I needed to. As it happens, I only have to express that something is wrong when we play and he will stop. I guess that is what makes me feel safe in his hand, I trust him to make sure no harm comes to me.

BDSM in submission and play

Our life when it comes to BDSM and kink play is set into something of a routine. Our sex-life may look vanilla to the uninitiated observer. But only if there were no sound on the video – words and actions are important for us. Just when I think things are a little predictable he makes me pee on him, or he on me. Or he will make me get on my knees, undo his trousers and tell me to suck him off. 

Play is not a regular feature, but we have the equipment at the ready and suddenly it will appear. More recently we have attended clubs where both my submission and our play have been on display. I hope we can find a way to continue to do that, including the CMnf events. 

Limits over time

When we met I thought I was pretty clear about my limits. Over time he has pushed them slowly and carefully. My level of trust is such now, that I am happy to declare I have no limits. In truth of course there are, but he knows what they are. I have faith that he wouldn’t put me in danger, but will stretch my acceptance of his kinks. You can’t make this kind of thing happen, it takes time, patience and communication. And we have worked on all 3. 

My advice to others

Be prepared to look deeply at yourself and to answer questions about your words and actions. Even those in the past. Trust that you and your dominant will need time to settle into your roles, just as you do in regular life. Allow your submission to develop in your dominant’s hands, let them lead and trust your true personality to emerge. It isn’t always easy, you won’t always get it right but a strong relationship will allow you to be the submissive you both want. Finally trust your instincts – if you think you are submissive then you probably are. 

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.

On display

As the red velvet curtains opened, the stage  slowly revolved.  The slave’s limbs were firmly secured to a St Andrew’s Cross by fur lined leather cuffs. Her mouth filled with a ball gag secured behind her head. With wide eyes focused on her audience, her mind flashed back an hour.

Master had led her on a leash, naked into the small empty theatre. This place reminiscent of a venue they had visited on her birthday.  A circular stage surrounded by 20-30 seats they had sat in the midst of the action. The actors had weaved in and out of the audience making it an intimate, immersive experience. This was how the idea had formed in Master’s mind.

Now though, the seats were filled with smartly dressed men and women, the Dominants. At their feet an equal number of naked submissive people. As the stage slowly rotated and slave realised she knew everyone. Some were mere acquaintances and others true special friends to them both.

Master stepped up to the applause of the group and approached his slave. Tears filled her eyes as he began to stroke her with the fingers of both hands. Starting at her shoulders, moving down her arms, onto her tummy, up to her breasts, circling the nipples. Finally he placed the fingers of his left hand between her legs and stroked the wet, throbbing pussy then leant down to suck her right nipple. She squirmed, bucking her hips towards his fingers. The stage stopped moving.

Standing up he leaned towards her left ear and whispered.

“Darling slave girl, your fantasies are about to be realised” Spit filled her mouth as she tried to speak, to ask what he meant. He grinned and took a vibrating wand in his hand and pushed it into her throbbing pussy and beckoned to a man in the audience. He in turn nodded to the girl at his feet and she stood up, walked purposefully to the stage, stepped up and as previously instructed dropped to her knees.

Master removed the wand and the girl crawled close to the slave. She leaned up and her tongue circled the clitoris of her subject. Slave’s juices began to gush forth, only to be lapped up.

Slave focused on her grinning Master and nodded. Whatever her resovations, Master knew just what she needed.  On display, secured to the cross, her previously identified boundaries pushed to the limit. Safe in the knowledge that they shared a secret safe code she nodded again.

Master turned away and invited their friend Ross to take up a flogger and begin the show.
Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

A new day, a new year

Today is my birthday, and as I enter a new year of life I somehow find myself ready to blog again. The past couple of months have been somewhat quiet here. Save the occasional, writers block post Sinful Sunday has been my only regular offering.Last week’s Sinful Sunday post, a spur of the moment shot of Master changing a lightbulb naked  was rated in the top 5 by Molly. It is those kind of shots that really are the best. Therefore this week, since I have taken no photo involving stairs (this week’s prompt) I am taking a rest.Instead I am happy to report that our sex and M/s life is resurrecting itself. Or rather, perhaps we are finding the time to get it going again. Since holiday we have been busy. Weekends away, stuff to do around the house and garden. Plus we both seemed to have returned from holiday with a strange malaise that wouldn’t seem to shift. Master has a painful shoulder, which I hope he will seek medical help for soon. This weekend though, we have shoved all of that aside.

Two mornings in a row we have had sex. Raw, just woke up and wanted to grope and kiss each other sex. Yesterday, my eyes were barely open before I found myself on my knees before him, sucking his cock. This morning I was awake first, reading birthday messages on Facebook when He began to finger my clitoris. Then he went down on me, orgasms flew through me in a way that I haven’t experienced in months. Mindful of his shoulder pain I have been on top more than of late. I had almost forgotten how wonderful that feeling is, his control from beneath me is something to behold.

As recently as Friday I was wondering if I was still his submissive bitch. Something in the things I said, and my body language that night seem to have seemed through. To us both. We have reminded ourselves of who we are to each other and that feels really good.

Sinful Sunday will resume here next week, meantime if you read this please do click on the lips and see the great photos everyone has contributed this week. But for me, today I will enjoy my birthday and savour the thoughts of yesterday, this morning and all the days to come.

Kneeling in your 50’s

One of the key things a slave does is to kneel to their Master, right? There are numerous, neigh thousands of pictures online showing submission in action; a slave kneeling.

Often He is clothed and she naked. There are specific positions that slave presents herself to her Master in, perhaps with her thighs spread, leaning back onto her heels, her hands rotated to expose the palms or else with her hands behind her head, so that He can see His property.

But what if kneeling in this way is something that you as a slave want to give your Master,  and it is what He wants to receive, but you both know that kneeling in such a way is nigh on impossible for more than a couple of minutes.

There was a time when my body was flexible, pliable and supple. There was a time when my life as a nurse hadn’t caused my back to become stiff and my knees to become sore. There was a time when I was young and slim and when my muscles where taught. Though I have to admit I have never been particularly fit and athletic there was a time when I was slimmer, fitter and more supple than I am now.

But in this new life of Master / slave I crave the ability to kneel. I want to be able to forget that my knees and thighs will ache. I want to be able to pretend my back won’t be stiff. I want to imagine that I can maintain the required position for longer than 2 minutes. But the reality is that kneeling for too long means it is difficult to get up, it means that afterwards I will walk like I am 100 not 54 and it means my back will be sore.

So, realism is the thing.  I can kneel for longer on a cushion than I can on the floor. I can sit at His feet longer than I can kneel. Plus I can sit next to Him and still suck His cock, I can sit next to Him and still submit.

My submission and slavery are not dependent on my ability to kneel for longer than 5 minutes, though I would love to be able to. When you are fifty something realism is something you both get used to. But you can still dream.

From segreti

 

Calmness

Life has been busy.

Work has been busy. 
Sometimes my mum winds me up. Other people wind me up; namely my lazy younger brother and my ex (though thankfully not at the same time).
But what has occurred to me over the past few days, as I have taken time to reflect, is that I really am a much calmer person these days. I really don’t get particularly stressed or worked up. I would go as far as to say I am essentially a calmer person than I have ever been in my adult life.
Maybe it is age, or experience? Maybe though it is about me as a person who has let go of control of so much of her life that the things that remain feel less of a worry? 
Don’t get me wrong, I have my moments. But to be frank, nothing winds me up in the way I could be guaranteed to get upset about before.
The constant presence of the collar and cuff remind me always that I am Master’s slave and that He has particular expectations of me. So often, sometimes without consciously thinking, I consider what He might think about my behaviours and actions. Some might think I am conditioned after over 2.5 years together, but I think it is more that I feel safe in this relationship. I feel wanted, loved, needed and desired. He has expectations of me and I want to make Him proud of me, of the person I am when we are not together. We are a team, we function well together and we help keep each other in check. 
We have an understanding of each others needs and these days I am perhaps better at articulating when I need more control and He is better at recognising that need. At the same time I am better at recognising His needs in my service to Him.
We both recognise the need for more play time, more kink.  But this relationship isn’t about the kink, we are a Master and slave partnership. We install calm in each other. 
We have travelled a long way and hopefully are months away now from being together full time. That thought fills me with more joy than I can say.