If there is one thing that is constant in life it is change.
My fantasy life started a long time ago, with thoughts of serving as a
slave which were pre-sexual in nature. They eventually became sexual
fantasies, but not ones that I shared with anyone. As a feminist, a
liberal, and an independent, stubborn woman I was ashamed of these
fantasies because they didn't fit in with my views of the world or
myself. So they were just lurking there, to be brought out as needed
for sexual stimulation in my own head.
I met my Master in high school and it was an instant crush for me. I
was very shy, and he already had a girlfriend, so it took some time for
a relationship to develop. We started dating just before he left for
college. We had a long distance relationship, conducted mainly by
letter (snail mail of course, this being in the days before email)
except for visits back and forth for 4 years. I still have hundreds of
letters we wrote back and forth, many of his with elaborately painted
envelopes. I followed him, choosing a college which was close enough
to his to get there by bus for a weekend. Neither of us had a car.
One summer I lived secretly in the dorm with him, which was definitely
not allowed. I spent most days while he was at work playing pool in
the dorm basement, until I finally got a temp job in a factory.
The first time he tied me up, I was 17. We did not do bondage related activities regularly though.
After we moved in together, when I was in college and he started
graduate school at the same university I attended, we started doing a
few more kinky things. This turned me on an unbelievable amount but I
didn't ask for it all the time. I don't really know why, perhaps it
was shame and embarrassment. He always had a much higher sex drive
than I did, which was frustrating for both of us. At one point he
insisted on going to counseling for the issue of not enough sex. The
therapist seemed to blame me entirely, and just said I should do it
more. It was extremely irritating to me at the time. Now, it might
have been useful if he'd said something like "Why don't you tie her up
and beat her ass to turn her on", but I guess therapists aren't
supposed to say things like that. Anyway, I wasn't a very good patient
as I just sat there and didn't say anything.
For years we played around with bondage with a nifty leather strap he made, some role playing and play-rape fantasy. It was more
the exception than the rule.
Then last summer something happened. My husband took the kids and
went to visit their Grandma in California, leaving me on my own here. I got
bored and lonely and started looking up things on-line related to
bondage and S&M, reading stories and finding out how big and varied
the BDSM world was, and how much the whole idea turned me on. When he
got back my sex drive was way up; I just couldn't stop thinking about
it. My fantasies suddenly didn't seem so crazy and I started asking
for more and more stuff to be done to me. He was thrilled that I was
so horny and kinky all of a sudden. Some things he wasn't so sure about
at first, like spanking, but after a few times he started enjoying the
effects that it had on me. As he says, "It's no skin off my butt".
The first month I insisted that I was not any kind of masochist, and I
would let him know and tell him to stop if anything he did hurt. I
meant it too.
But the more I got the more I wanted it, and harder, until in the
second month I admitted that I may actually be enjoying the pain and be a
little bit of a masochist after all. His reaction was to laughingly
say, "No kidding". I am not always exactly in touch with my
feelings, as you may have gathered by now.
The biggest thrill for me was when he would dominate me and I could
just give in. At some point I stopped saying no. Anything he wanted,
asked for, demanded, hinted at, I would do. This was my first step of
submission. Around that time sex became painful, through overdoing
it, I guess. I was stubborn and never let on that it hurt. Yeah, it
was probably a stupid thing to do, but at the time I felt I had to. I
just pushed through and beyond the pain until eventually it wasn't
painful anymore. It was the second step in submission for me.
By about 3 months, we had officially decided as a couple to be D/s
but only in the bedroom or relating to sexual things. In every other
aspect the relationship was as equals. He did not want me to become a
doormat who would never disagree with him, or have an interesting
debate. We discussed limits, hard and soft, and safewords, ideas I had
picked up on the internet.
I started feeling like I was falling down a hole, like Alice in
Wonderland, a great big welcoming hole of submission and dominance, of
sex and gratifying pain.
After about 4 months I started feeling like giving up all my limits,
and accepting his hard limits as my own. I wanted to give up my
safeword, but through talking to others on line I was convinced this was
a bad idea. I eventually decided to reserve it for when I thought was
really in danger or in trouble, and this was just a way of protecting
both of us from unintentional harm. Not to use it just because
something was unpleasant or not what I wanted. For that I'd either
just use regular communication, in which case he was free to override
me, or to just be quiet. Since I mainly enjoyed the acts of Dominance
and submission, it was not that hard to choose the last option most of
The next step in my submission was one night he told me to wash the
dishes, which by an agreement of many years standing, were rightfully
his to wash because I had cooked dinner. I said no, just no. He took
me upstairs and gave me an angry thrashing. Not the funishment kind so
much as the kind when I feel horrible that he really is mad at me. I
apologized. I agreed to wash the dishes while kneeling at his feet and
near to crying.
The next critical turning point came when he told me to go off
without him and do something that I really did not feel like doing. It
wasn't a big thing, I just really didn't feel like it at the moment.
I said I would, but it took me a little while to stop feeling crabby
and resentful about it. Finally I accepted the task within myself with
a feeling of submission and peacefulness and actually enjoyed myself.
That was when I knew that I really was a slave 24/7, not just in the
bedroom, because the task had nothing to do with sex, kinkiness or
pleasure. It just was what he wanted me to do and I did it.
Around that time I asked him if he thought the word submissive or
slave more accurately fit me, and he said slave, so that is how we
became M/s. I had been calling him Master the whole time because it
seemed right to me and fit in with my fantasies. I had a couple of
leather play collars, but neither of us had much interest in a big
ceremony or a "real" collar that I would wear all the time. We
talked about it and decided it was not for us, at least at this time.
Then, in another turn around, for Christmas he gave me a thick gold
necklace, which I absolutely love, and said I could consider it his
collar of ownership of me forever. I wear it every day, although at
night I switch to a more sturdy leather collar. After that I stopped
feeling like I was falling down a desperate and enticing hole, and more
like I had found a comfortable footing.
For $5 at Fleet Farm you can buy a lot of ouch. My ass is still hurting this morning from Master's new favorite toy. I got the &quo...
We went to a Thai noodle shop for lunch yesterday and were just talking about this and that. I said, "I don't think people change...
The Kink of the Week is bukkake, which happens to be one of my favorite and most potent fantasies, sometimes also coupled with group piss pl...
He took off his belt. I watched out of the corner of my eye. My mouth was busy. I was on my knees. I saw the belt doubled over....