30 Days of Submission – Day 2

i had written day one yesterday before i realised i had said too much about my submission for the question and that i was actually answering day 2’s question as well. Also i have written quite a lot about this specific question recently. Lets see then if i can come up with something different from before.  So here goes:

Describe who you might submit to and how. Are you exclusively submissive in marriage or just in the bedroom? Are you submissive only in the context of a scene or in a role or throughout your daily life? Are you submissive to play partners or only in the context of a relationship?

My marriage is not about dominance and submission, however i probably submit to a certain amount of domestic discipline since i pretty much do everything and hubby does nothing. He doesn’t always ask for things but tells and for a reason best known to myself (or until recently not known) i just do it. For years i fought against what i saw as laziness and i ranted and i raved. i have been married for a very long time, and have only ever lived with him and i don’t generally do that any more. i accept this is how things are and just do it. i am not sure if this is submission at all, but i suspect it demonstrates i had submissive tendencies all along. 

With Sir, as i have said here, and before, i am naturally submissive. Much of the time we are together, as there is not nearly enough of it, is one one long scene with interludes for food, a walk or to sleep. We slip in and out of the Dom/sub roles during that time, but it is never far away. The beauty of this is that there is the anticipation that something could be about to happen. We could be eating some lunch, chatting about our children or about something inane and then he will say: i think you should get changed into this outfit, go and get changed.  And i do. Increasingly i love to submit to him, i love to kneel before him when i arrive to see him, to feel the collar around my neck, to feel his hands reclaiming what is his. i love the things he says to me to claim me: you are mine slut, ready for me to do with as i wish. 

I never would have imagined that i would want to do this given that i have felt like something of a door mat for years. But this is definitely very different. Sir hates me to wait on him in say the kitchen, he doesn’t want me making him tea (though no doubt at some time i will), and he doesn’t want me cleaning up after him (yipee). But he does want me to remember that when we are together i am there to submit to him when he wants, where he wants and how he wants. This can be thrilling, painful or humiliating (or all three) often too it is extremely erotic and i am learning to love it.

30 Days of Submission – Day 1

Many other bloggers have posted their 30 days of submission and it feels to me that the time is right for me to start mine. If i can keep this going most days i should be able to finish by the time i go off on holiday on September 24th; we shall see.

So day 1:

Does your submission – either what you practice or what you strive for – have a label? Do you view your submission as Taken in Hand, domestic discipline, top/bottom, dominant/submissive, master/slave, owner/pet, or some other description or combination? If you do not use a label, why?

I started my  relationship with Sir knowing that he was a Dominant and that he wanted me to be his submissive. This essentially takes place within the confines of the bedroom (or whatever room or venue we happen to be in), but also spreads into online scenes, phone calls. This feels like a kind of planned submission. We are not quite playing a game, but we are part of an agreed arrangement within the context of which we are submissive and Dominant. 

Having said that, my submission and his dominance spreads beyond that. We can be discussing a topic, having a pretty usual, vanilla type of conversation when suddenly he will get all Dom on me and call me slut or whore and i am putty in his hands and immediate submissive. At the same time i might sit on the stool in his kitchen (for example), and spread my legs (no knickers) in the way he likes and he might turn round, see me and again he is my Dom and i am his sub. 

i would say that the longer that time goes on, and the more time we spend together (in real life, online, on the phone) then the move our relationship develops into one where i am more submissive and he is more Dominant. This is partly because we are trying out new things, he is teaching me more about my kinky, submissive side and the trust we have in each other grows.

Diet and fitness update

i promised myself that i would update my progress in improving my fitness and losing some weight. Another week has passed and as always that second week is a bit more difficult.

The week started with my meeting with Sir and while i easily avoided midweek alcohol, i did eat some quite naughty food during out in room picnic. Then on Tuesday when i felt very tired from lack of sleep, i felt the need for a cappuccino (skinny of course) and then skipped off of zumba. Consequently it was Thursday before i did any exercise (other than i got with Sir on Monday night and early Tuesday morning). I have definitely made up for it with half hour sessions with Mel B on Thursday and Friday (had to get up extra early to fit it in) and the same with extra abs and thigh exercises Saturday and Sunday. Sum total weight wise though is that i have stayed the same. In my long and chequered dieting experience i have decided that is not too bad and best to move on rather than get depressed about it.

So to this week:

  • i will continue the ‘no alcohol till Friday’ but then on Friday i am going to keep the gin and tonics down to 2 rather than the 3 i had on Friday, 4 on Saturday and 4 on Sunday – this rather defeats the object. Instead i shall have some sparkling water with the ice and lemon. After all it goes down just as well.
  • I will try for 4 days of exercise again, and might even manage 5 if i get off of my backside in a moment and get on with it!
  • I will take my lunch to work (slacked last week and had to keep going out at lunchtime). 
  • I will keep my portion size down, particularly when it comes to carbs and not eat anyone’s left overs.
  • Only eat bread once a week (seem to be managing this, though it makes me crave lovely crusty bread)

Sir will be away this week and i know i will miss our evening chats, but i am determined i won’t let that prevent me from continuing with this mission. i am going to keep my body and mind active and not eat things i shouldn’t. Hopefully by the time we meet up again in a couple of weeks i will be looking slimmer and more toned.

Submissive personality?

What me?

i thought i would give the blog hop challenge over on Submissive guide a go this month. Never one to do things in advance, i am writing this today and the closing date is today. mind you, with the time difference, i still have 10 hours to go.

So the question is – Are you a quiet obedient submissive or is there an element of playful brattiness in your dynamic? How would you describe your submissive personality? How does your owner encourage or enhance who you are?

Master tells me that i am very submissive at times. i wear what he wants me to wear and generally do as he wants me to do even if what i am being asked to do is uncomfortable. i do these things because i want to and because i trust him and his judgement. Over the last 5 months (give or take a week or so) i have learned to submit more and more to his will. From the first time that i touched myself in a public place and told him that i was a slut, i have been thrilled at the idea of being owned in this way. i have dressed as a maid and taken photos of myself. i have dressed in a short skirt that just about covered my bare backside on more than on occasion, i have submitted to being tied to his bed and spanked. i have worn a butt plug to a meeting at work and to walk around a supermarket at lunch time. All of these things (and others) have been done with a minimum of argument.

However i am no walkover. i am not completely submissive in all of my life all of the time. Ok so i am not in a 24/7 relationship with Sir, but even so i do tell him when i think things are unreasonable, too painful or if i thing something just isn’t possible. i meet him on my terms and we discuss things outside of the scenes we play as equals. I also have my home life, work, running the household etc. Sir would probably say i am much too submissive to hubby, as i do too many things he should do himself (laziness is his problem), but i do so for a quiet life. I spent too much of my marriage fighting and don’t wish to do it anymore.

i love to be submissive, i know i am submissive by nature, but that doesn’t mean that i don’t have my own will or that i don’t use it. What is great though is that Master continues to push me, to explore the things that i think i don’t want to do and actually find i not only can but want to. i guess that is all part of the journey to find out who i am. What is more it is something i love!


Updating ‘my journey’ page this morning and thinking about how far i have come since April. i was wondering if the changes in me are hidden from those close to me, or if they can see that i am different.

i suspect i am not overtly different. i continue to do my job, to apply my high standards to the work i do there. i chat to my colleagues at work, discuss all of the same things that were discussed before, but i don’t think they would guess there is something new going on in my life. Unless of course they can see that i am happier, more fulfilled.

My family notices nothing i am pretty sure. i am still the wife, cooking and cleaning, doing the housework, shopping, keeping things clean and reasonably tidy. If hubby thinks there is anything strange in some of my later nights out or away he has said nothing. He hasn’t altered his behaviours, hasn’t become more helpful at home, hasn’t sought out my body. If he notices that my pussy is being kept pretty much shaved the whole times he hasn’t said so, even though he used to suggest such a thing in the past.

i realised today that i have changed in my choice of the clothes i wear each day. Even when i am not going to be seeing Sir (and that is most days) i want to wear clothes that i think he would like. Even for summer i have worn skirts and dresses more than usual (particularly as it hasn’t been the best of summers weather wise). i always avoided stockings, particularly those requiring suspender belts, but now i find that my underwear draw contains a whole range of them. i find myself in different shops, looking at the underwear and imagining Sir’s hands on me as i wear them.

Then there is the issue of the pierced nipples. i really want to get this done and know where i will go for the piercing. i am just nervous of the conversation with hubby and am almost minded just to wait until winter and get it done without telling him. Then to wait and see how long before he notices. I have breast screening coming up soon ( oh the joys of being this lovely age) and after that i will give it some serious thought.

So even if those around me think i am the same person i was in April, the experiences i have had, the amount of time i have spent considering my new role with Sir, means that i believe i have changed. Those changes may be mainly internal, but one thing is for sure i feel a whole lot better about myself and i have someone who appreciates those changes. For that i am grateful.

Humiliation part two – the shopping trip

In part one of this adventure which can be found here i described how the slut in this story picked up a stranger from an airport coffee shop. The story continues below.

The guest house was the kind of place where people stay the night before their holiday particularly if they need to leave early in the morning for their flight and want to leave their car without paying airport car park charges. This couple were not the usual clientele, but were welcomed warmly none the less.

A couple of hours after check in, they emerged from the small shower cubicle together. Much had happened already. She had been collared and cuffed and made to kneel before him and take his big and very hard cock deep in her throat. She had welcomed his cock into her pussy, while she lay helpless, hands cuffed behind her back. Then he had taken her arse, something he knew she was particularly partial to. He was right! She had already lost count of how many times he had made her cum, but her pussy throbbed at the memory.

By the time they left the sanctity of their room to go in search of an indoor picnic at a local supermarket, she was wearing nipple clamps, her short dress and fuck me heels (higher than the ones she had picked him up in). Nothing else. She walked purposefully beside him. It was only a 10 minute walk away, and it is not unusual to see a woman wearing a short dress and heels on a hot summers evening. She was conscious the whole time though that she wore no underwear and that her nipples were clamped.

This man loves a bit of shopping it seams. He likes to wander back and forward while deciding what to eat and he loves a bargain. She pushed the trolley, found  a couple of reduced items which were greeted well and otherwise walked backwards and forwards either in front or behind him. Her nipples grew more and more painful but she found it a useful reminder of what had already happened, what would happen later and of course what she was.

At the back of the shop, she bent down to examine some wine (even though she was planning to stick to her no alcohol on a weeknight plan) and he took the opportunity to take a good look under her dress; to view her bare backside, her shaved pussy. To touch her.

Exciting the shop with their goodies they made their way though an alleyway towards the street where the guest house was situated. This was an excellent opportunity for Him to tell her to bend over and expose herself. Of course she did as she was told.

The walk back was painful. Her feet hurt; these shoes were not for walking. Plus she had insolently refused stockings for this trip as the ones he wanted her to wear would have looked ridiculous with the dress. Punishment is still to be given for this! In truth the stockings would have prevented the blister that formed on one of her feet. More painful still was that which emanated from her nipples. At the same time though she realised that this was a pain that also made her increasingly wet. A couple of times He tested this out by pinching her nipples and then touching her under her dress.

Once in the room he took full advantage of the feelings of humiliation, of arousal and of pain to complete his mission to make her submit to the needs of his once again hard and shiny cock. What is more she loved it.

Humiliation part one – the pick up

The journey was a hot one, a sunny day, the weather very warm. Her car, almost 8 years old was without air conditioning. It wasn’t just the heat of the day though, the anticipation of what was to come added to the wetness which surrounded her lower body. The traffic was heavy, the road notorious for hold ups. The constant stopping and starting just added to the feelings of anticipation, after all, she was pretty eager to arrive.

The airport car park was busy, but finally she found a space on the 4th floor. Gathering her bag, and changing from flat sandals to heels she walked towards the lifts and the terminal building.

First stop was the ladies toilets. She needed to change from her sticky work clothes into something less heavy. Something short, something suitable for the occasion. Locking the cubicle door behind her she hung her bag from the hook on the wall and stripped off her skirt, top and bra (she was wearing no panties). She let all but the bra fall to the floor. Putting the bra inside the bag, she took out some stockings and a suspender belt bag and perched on the toilet. The stockings were smooth to the touch as she put them on. Running her hands up her legs, she shuddered slightly thinking about what was to come. Standing up in just stockings and shoes she set about attaching the suspender belt to the tops of the stockings. Lastly she took the little blue dress, and pulled it over her head, pulling it down to just below the tops of her stockings. She gathered up the work clothes and put them into her bag before emerging from the cubicle she headed towards the washbasins to apply her make up.

The airport had two terminals and she knew she was in the wrong one. She headed towards the monorail that connects them. She was excited, thrilled by what was about to happen, but at the same time nervous. Her dress was short, only just covering her bare newly shaved pussy, the air conditioning within the building made her feel cool for the first time in hours even though heat permeated from that area of her body.

The people around her were mainly casually dressed. Travel clothes, loose, cool. Some wore trousers, others shorts. No one appeared to be wearing heels, stockings. She wondered if anyone would look at her and notice. But actually no one appeared to. 

Within minutes she emerged from the train, along with a throng  of holiday makers with their heavy suitcases and strolled along the moving walkway towards her destiny. She reached a junction and rather than walk towards the check in desks as the people with suitcases did she took the route towards the arrivals hall.

This area was quieter than the monorail or the departure area and contained a number of coffee shops and other retail outlook. Ahead was a set of stairs, she climbed them slowly, but purposefully, mindful that a workman in a fluorescent jacket was standing within view and that there was a good chance he might be able to see up her short dress.

The coffee shop seating area was empty except for one man who was seated at the back by the wall. He glanced up over his reading glasses as she walked towards the counter and their eyes met. He was a smart looking traveller; wearing a light brown linen suit and a patterned silk shirt. This looked like an opportunity.

She bought a bottle of sparkling water from the counter, then taking the bottle and a glass walked to an adjacent seating area and sat down on the padded black seat. Having poured the water, she took a sip and looked across. He was looking at her. She looked down at her legs and pulled her dress up slightly so he could see her stocking tops and opened her legs a little, leaving him with no doubt what kind of a girl she was and what he could expect from her.

The minutes passed, she observed a group of airport police, complete with guns and a dog. Thinking she had better be less obvious. She swapped chairs thinking that this would give him a better view, without any chance of the police noticing but then found that the chairs in front of her prevented this. She also noticed that she was in full view of what seemed to be a staff room; she moved back. She didn’t want to expose herself to them while hiding herself from her target.

She finished her drink, gathered her belongings and headed back down the stairs. Glancing behind she was pleased to see he was behind her. Back through the airport, a  short stop in the book shop, he was behind her all the way. Just before the monorail she stopped and he stopped right behind her. She asked him if he was following her and he smiled a lovely smile and agreed he was. He offered her a small cloth bag which he said she had left behind. Actually she hadn’t but looking inside and seeing an array of adult toys she took the bag and agreed that indeed she had left it in the cafe.

Standing waiting for the train she felt a hand touching her leg, it travelled up her stocking top and briefly touched her bare bottom. She shivered with excitement enjoying the touch of his hand, before remembering that this was crowded place and that she didn’t know this man and moving forward slightly. The train arrived and she stood facing the exit door. She could feel him standing close, his hands lifting her dress. Moisture erupted from her pussy as a cool breeze swept across her backside. She shook him off before edging back towards him for more. She wanted and needed this man and he seemed to want her,

She walked towards the lift to the car park and he followed. Inside the lift they were alone, they faced each other. Now he took her in his arms, kissed her and put his hands openly up her dress and felt her hot wet pussy. He asked her what she was at the airport for. She told him truthfully that she was there to find a man and he was the one. He told her he was a traveller and that he had been in a remote place where sexy women were far and few between. She observed his small rucksack and thought this unlikely.

They got into the front seats of the car, she in the driver seat, since this was her car and he again touched what would very soon become rightfully his. She was already close to the edge, could easily have cum there and then. But he took his hand away and instead undid the zip on his trousers. It was obvious what he wanted and she was happy to oblige.

In the middle of the 4th floor of the car park she leaned down and took his large, hard, smooth cock in her mouth.

One day

One day until i see Sir. We have chatted a lot this week about what we will do tomorrow. We are meeting in a public place as strangers (no details until after the event) then going to the place we have arranged to stay. Because we have had time, we have fine tuned the scene and our roles within it. i am pretty sure however that i will be one of the only people there wearing stockings on a baking hot day, mind you they will be flesh coloured so people probably won’t know. Humiliation will be involved (you would expect no less from me) and i will be able to demonstrate that i am Sir’s slut. This picture gives some idea of what my morning thoughts have been about today and what i am thinking about doing tomorrow (among other things).

i am pleased to say i have been pretty rigid when it comes to following my planned diet and fitness plan, and that has paid off. i have lost 4lb in weight. i have managed to meet all of the goals i set for the week and plan to increase the aerobic exercise to 4 times this week (though may end up calling events with Sir one of them)! I am so pleased i managed not to slip up on the alcohol front, especially as work was so busy. i have slipped into a routine whereby if i have a hectic day i reward myself with a glass of wine. Trouble is i follow it with another and then over half the bottle is gone (i know i need smaller glasses). i have had no wine at all this week and instead have had a couple of gin and tonics on Friday and Saturday. i feel better for it and intend carrying this on for the foreseeable future. I was very proud of myself when a work colleague brought cakes in for their birthday and i didn’t even go and look at them. For next week i hope to keep this up, take my lunch in to work every day and to go out for a quick walk each lunchtime.

Today and tomorrow i will reaffirm my submission to myself by wearing no panties. i know Mrs Soft Bottom is exploring this side of herself and has for the first time gone to work commando. i have discovered that not only is having all my girly bits naked kind of invigorating i find it a reminder, all day long that i am doing this for Him and that i am His submissive. Soon i will be a slightly slimmer submissive who can wear my lovely corset for Him with pride.

Choices and their consequences

This has been a real summer of fun for me. Ever since those first online chats with Sir, where we flirted, played out a fantasy scene and then carried things on by phone, i have had the best time. Our real life relationship has mainly been about my learning to submit while enjoying some fabulous and wonderfully kinky sex.

Tori’s post today on her blog Pain’s Pleasure got me thinking about myself and TTWD (as Fondles would call it), and those who live the lifestyle full time. It got me wondering if any of us really think that this is just for fun; something that is just a game.

When i am with Sir, i have chosen to arrive at the place we have decided to meet at the given time. I have done this in the knowledge that there are expectations placed upon me that have been discussed in advance. i submit to those willingly since this is a consentual arrangement. Sir is not big on punishment, but at the same time i am never sure whether i might be spanked, clamped or restrained. i never know where Sir is going to chose to put his cock next. i relax into the submission, i am compliant, i submit to humiliation; to situations that wouldn’t normally be part of what i would do.

I can always choose what i want to do, but everything i do has consequences.

My home life is quite different, and yet within it i also submit. This submission is more domestic in nature. i shop, cook, clean, wait on and clear up. i have made choices in my life that have led to this position. Those choices though have had consequences. i am still married, but the life i lead is not particularly fulfilling. To a certain extent i do as i wish, but at the same time i am always thinking about what the consequences will be. No one here will spank me, call me a slut or a whore, or expect me to kneel down before them. But that does not mean that i don’t consider what i do and the consequences of my actions.

I have come to realise that real life is not a game, it is not a dress rehearsal it is real and it has consequences.

On Monday, i will meet up with Sir. We will have fun, we will have a good time (i hope). The scenes we are planning in  public places have potential consequences both in the moment and in the longer term. Failure to submit, if i choose has consequences as does the decision i make to be the slut he desires.

 The tales i have had to spin at home have consequences, but actually i do need fun and games in my life. BUT i always know that everything i do is not without its potential consequences.

Early morning dreaming

It has been nearly 4 weeks since Sir and i were last together. This has been the longest time between meetings, and it most definitely feels like it. I have had plenty to occupy me, crazily busy at work, birthdays (not just mine), family stuff, normal life.

We have chatted (and more) by phone, we have texted a bit and we have spent time together online (quite a bit this week). Virtual interaction is fine, but it isn’t the same. You can’t feel someone when you are online, touching yourself isn’t the same as when they do it.

i have taken to thinking about Sir when lying in bed in the morning. The time when you wake, when you haven’t yet moved. Or the time when i have brought my morning drink (hot water with lemon) back to bed and the news in droning on in the back ground. i think and i dream about what has happened before and what will happen next time.

i think of His cock. i think of how big it will be when it emerges from his trousers as i kneel before him. i think of how smooth it will be, how it will taste and how i will lick him and suck him. i think of how wet i will be as i suck, i think of how deep he will go.

i think of how He will restrain me, my hands cuffed. i think of my collar, which He will put on me as soon as we arrive at our hotel room.

i think of the nipple clamps. Of the way He sucks my nipples to prepare them. That feeling of pain followed by immense pleasure as He applies one clamp then the other. The pain and the pleasure when He pulls the little chain.

i think of the pleasure i get when He tells me: “you are wet slut” when He first touches my clitoris and how much more wet i become as He strokes me.

i think of Him taking me, using me, making me a whole person again. i think of the pleasure he gets from knowing that what we do together is reserved for him alone.

Sometimes, though not always, i make myself cum during these thoughts; often it doesn’t take long. More usually though i just think and then get up, happy in the knowledge that however long i have to wait, one day sooner or later this will be real again.

Four days and counting!