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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
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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. 

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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.

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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

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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.

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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

 

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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. 
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Back to basics

We have been enjoying a wonderful summer together. A trip to France in May was followed by our holiday in Sicily, then there was a weekend away to visit my brother and then last weekend apart. Me with my mum in France, Master with his daughter in Amsterdam. In between there have been nights out, the theatre, the cinema, meals, trips to the pub…..

Often we have had little time for sex, a need to get up early, or getting home late and falling into bed. Plus of course the little matter of needing to prepare both our houses for when I join him in his. We get on really well together, we have no problem in living a vanilla existence. We can sit together reading, discussing current affairs, we don’t really need to argue and so don’t. We are maybe more tolerant of each other because we respect each others point of view even if we don’t agree with it. We love each other and we fancy each other. Of course, the relationship is not quite like it was at the very beginning. But it could be.
This weekend we got back to the core of what we are about as a couple. Master and slave. We reconnected in a way that we really haven’t given time for in quite a while. Plus we still managed to get out, travel to London to see a play, eat dinner and have a lovely walk back to the train station.
But while we were alone together here, things were different.
He decided on  Friday night and again last night when we got back that I needed to be naked. He had me kneel before him and suck his cock. He had me wear one of the leather harnesses (It was a bit on the loose side, so the diet and exercise is paying off) and he was clear about how I should address myself and him. I was ‘this girl’ once again and he was Master and also Lord; he really loves me calling him Lord, but I do stumble over it. Not because I mind calling him Lord, but too many films and books mean I am confused as to whether I should call him my Lord or just Lord. It sounds weird in a way that Master doesn’t (but I digress).
We have had amazing sex. Kinky, horny sex. I have been permitted numerous orgasms, many more than the tally currently written in black ink on my tummy. I have had a prize from him, one that I received while he was deep inside me this morning. I have also been required to pee on him, though this weekend not the other way around.
We have talked about the fact I have a contract and rules that I don’t follow and discussed how we can get that back on course. I know what I need to do, the rules are few and they are simple. But this is a two way process and he has promised me that he will also make sure we keep making time for the kinky side of our life. The pain and the pleasure, the Dominance and the submission. Master and slave.
This weekend has been relaxing and it has been busy. We got back to basics and it is clear that we do have time, we can have it all.
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S is for…..

A girl’s submission to slavery

One topic today since this lies at the heart of her very self, what she is and how she functions. In order to write this blog post, this girl needs to write in the third person – her slave persona  – this girl. This is a personal need rather than something imposed. You see, when Master told this girl that he thought that the use of the third person would help her in coming to terms and understanding her submission he was right. In the beginning it felt odd and sounded strange to even refer to herself in private with no one else present as this girl. She didn’t exactly believe that it was necessary since she had already worked out she was submissive. Of course it turned out Master was right!
The realisation that this girl was a submissive came in the early days with S. He brought out her submissive side and taught her that it was a good thing. That it wasn’t a sign of weakness but instead strength. The desire to serve another, to want to please to feel the need to worship another was part of who she was. Sadly, S wasn’t the right person to receive this girl’s submission in the long term. Indeed, it is now clear that he was frightened of it. For him, it was about play, it was a game. For this girl it was a part of who and what she was. He recognised this and pushed her away. The fact that they carried on seeing each other for a while was about carnal need, but eventually it was clear that this girl wanted and needed more. 
Master recognised something in this girl during early online play and discussions in a chat room. Meeting up on a bleak, cold day in February only confirmed this. There was a sexual chemistry, but also there as something else. He recognised that she desired to submit to him and over time they agreed that she was his slave and he her Master. Looking back there was an inevitability which was confirmed after a period of separation which allowed both to reflect on their time together so far.

Separated by thousands of miles, both had struggled to make sense of the emotions of the previous few months. On the spur of the moment (it seemed at the time) he asked if she wanted to be his slave. Somehow that request was exactly what she wanted and needed. She didn’t understand at the time why she felt the sense of relief she did. It felt almost like a home coming (though that took place a while later when he returned from his travels).

Jack Rinella’s book Becoming a slave provides this girl with the closest definition and understanding of her own understanding of slavery. He recognises that slavery and indeed submission itself is personal. He describes slavery in this context as a voluntary type of servitude. He identifies that rather than the slave being someone weak, needy and in need of constant supervision, she (or of course he) is someone who wishes to serve the Master, to give the power she holds to him. In doing so the slave puts the Master first, supporting and empowering him. At the same, they are quite possibly achieving success in their own endeavours. This is how life is for this girl. She does not need micromanagement, and she is able to lead a successful career. However she feels that she needs to defer to Master, to seek His approval and support. She needs to be his servant, to please to to give him total control of the life that is their’s to share. 
In effect she has surrendered her will to Master and as Jack Rinella describes, her ego has been nullified and now belongs to him. She has given herself totally to him to take care of. Her self image has become his. 
This whole area of thought is complex, but for this girl it sits inside the deepest recess of mind and body. 
Yet, it is visible for all to see. Well for those who are able to see how important this life is to her. Generally people remark that she looks well, not just in body but that she is fulfilled.
Today, this girl met with her ex. Somehow she was surprised to hear the lack of communication that appears to go on with his new lady friend. She was surprised that she and he were unable to communicate at a level she is now used to. But later she realised she should not be surprised. Master has helped this girl to recognise her needs and to reach out to Master in fulfilling them. The level of communication in this girl’s relationship with Master is completely different. It and He have brought her happiness she could only have dreamt of in her previous relationships. Slavery has brought her happiness, but only because Master is the right person to submit to. She is Master’s slave.