Outed!

Its not important how it happened, but she said it was an accident. I've been living with Vanilla Betty for a few months now, and I knew I couldn't keep it a secret from her forever. She came across some private information, and confronted me: "I know you are submissive, and that he is your master!"

She was clearly disturbed, and rambled a little, trying to be open-minded but unable to hold back her real feelings: she was angry, scared, and didn't trust him. She couldn't understand why I would want this, and as my friend, she was worried for my safety.

In a way, I can understand where she was coming from. We operate on a whole other set of values and assumptions to the vanilla world - and certainly a challenging one to Betty's conservative religious upbringing, and her strong ideals of feminism, equality and social justice. Values that I share - so I can recognise how "twisted" (yes, she used the word twisted) and irrational it must seem that I could want to be treated this way. The first, and hardest question, she wanted answered was WHY?

How to explain it to someone who doesn't have it in them to understand this, without sounding psychologically ill? I tried my best to think of an analogy but couldn't. I told her it makes me happy, it feels liberating to give up control to another person. It gives me a sense of peace to offer someone so much trust.

Which brought up her next panicked question: but how do you know he can be trusted? I told her I have known Master for longer than she thinks, and that I didn't just hand over control in one moment, it has been a gradual progression, so that as we got to know each other better, I offered more to him, and he has consistently shown that he deserves that trust.

But how can you do that? I'm worried about you. I reminded her that she knows I am an intelligent person who makes responsible choices. I wouldn't do something like this frivolously. I told her it is not a new role for me - I have some experience and have learned a few things, and I am able to look after myself.

She told me she's never liked the way he always seemed "so dominating" of me in conversation. I told her I knew she was perceptive and wasn't surprised she had noticed. I told her that I liked it that he was this way, and so it shouldn't cause her offense - he is not doing anything harmful.

Its like when people say they don't mind gay people, but they don't like seeing them show affection in public - so really they do have a problem with it. That's how I feel. Good observation. So you can see that the uncomfortable feeling you have about it is a prejudice? (She didn't like that.)

Why do I have to be dragged into it? When he talks to me that way in front of you, he is not dragging you into our sex life. This goes beyond sex - its part of who we are. When he talks to me in a way that reminds me of his power over me, it is a way of expressing our relationship to one another - done subtly in conversation, because we can't be open about it in front of you.

What do you mean, part of who you are? I mean that its not just a game or a fetish - I am naturally submissive. I've always had the urge to give up control to someone in a relationship. I find it very fulfilling. And he finds it fulfilling to be in control.

How could somebody be like that - wanting to control other people? He doesn't go around controlling people. He's not a sociopath, or a manipulator. He controls people who want to be controlled.

I can't help it, the idea of you being with such a dominant personality upsets me. That's not all there is to him. He is not just dominant, he is also caring, sensitive, intelligent, respectful, fair, and very trustworthy. Don't stereotype him. I could see on her face that she knew I had a point.

Later, she expressed concern over my loyalty to her friendship: I have known you for ten years, and he just walks into your life and you put him first? I don't rank the people in my life. I don't think about anyone as more important than anyone else (with the exception of my son, who must be a priority to me). I have a different relationship to him to the one I have with you - and within that, I treat him with respect and give him power over me. That doesn't change my friendship with you.

She grew angry at me at the idea that I can't assert power over him. I can't believe you wouldn't stick up for me against him! I would talk to him honestly because I care about you. And that is more than you have the right to ask of me - you can and should stick up for youself. I can't and won't tell him what to do.

What happens if what he wants hurts someone else? That depends on how serious it is - there may be some kind of compromise possible. If I think something he wants of me will hurt someone in a way that is important enough, I can tell him how I feel. He treats my feelings and needs with respect. Its not just about him - he does care about other people.

What about treating your friends with respect? What about you, as my friend, treating me with respect by respecting my relationship and not asking me to compromise it?

Eventually, she conceded: Ok. I don't expect to be able to understand this. But I will put in some effort and try, if you give me time, to accept it. I said, that would mean a lot to me.

What a relief that I managed to answer her questions and comments without faltering! I remember a time when I would not have had the confidence and self-acceptance to be able to have this kind of conversation - a time when I, too, thought I must be "twisted" and felt a lot of shame about submission. I can't say I'm totally changed - but today I confirmed that I have come a long way.

Fear & desire

Someone said to me recently that many of our biggest sexual fantasies are a reflection of our greatest fears. There are a million obvious ways that idea could be applied to anyone into anything kinky, probably without much substance. But when that (vanilla) person said that, what immediately came to my mind was one specific way in which, for me, it is undeniably and very deeply true.

I am quite obviously (to anyone who has read much of this blog, or anyone who knows me well) terrified of one thing above any other: being rejected by someone I love. I am most afraid of making myself vulnerable to someone, and them leaving me.

The connection I made when I heard the comment above came easily - one fantasy I've long had but never explored is abandonment. Specifically, being tied, locked up, or otherwise restrained, and left. Not knowing where the person on whom my release is dependent has gone, and when or even if they will return. Left alone and vulnerable, and with nothing to do but wait.... and wait...

I have always marveled at that fantasy, what its appeal might be, and whether the reality would really be the strangely pleasant anxiety-provoking experience it is in my mind, or if the mix of emotions would be a negative experience. Today, I found out.

I had no idea what Master had in mind when he told me to lay face down on the bed, and cuffed my wrists to the corners, pulling them tight so I had little movement in my arms at all. He blindfolded me and, for a while, went about his business. I was aware that there was still a while to go before he had to leave for work, and he had previously asked about the time, so I supposed that he was expecting someone who would use me. An anonymous fuck while tied to the bed sounded nice, and since it wasn't a long while before he had to leave, I figured it would be a pretty short wait.

I heard music, realised Master had kindly selected one of my favourite CDs, and smiled to myself. I laid there, waited, and relaxed. At first I thought I'd imagined the light touch of an object against my pussy, but there it was a second time - Master was teasing me with something, and I hadn't even been aware he had re-entered the room. I sighed when he stopped, wanting more, and more was given, in the form of a few light strikes to my ass cheeks - crop or cane, not firm enough for me to be really sure which. I wondered if his plan was not a horny stranger, but some heavy pain, but guessed that given his plans for me later this week, he wouldn't want to mark me. He stopped and left the room again.

I started wondering what was taking so long. Did he just want to leave me restrained in his bedroom for the rest of his time at home, and not release me til he left for work? He entered the room again, and I heard him moving around, fiddling with something. When I felt the loop of rope circle my ankle I moaned in surprised pleasure (I would describe myself as having a rope fetish). He tied off both my feet as tightly as my hands, and then came closer to me and told me to lift my head. At first I thought it was a gag he placed in front of me and I anticipated pain again, but it wasn't a gag, but a collar. He positioned it firmly around my neck, and although my movement was no more restricted than without it, I felt all the more captive. With cuffs and ropes he confines me, but with a collar he possesses me.

A few more taps on my ass with what was definitely a crop this time. He ran it up my body and the side of my face. I took the tip in my mouth - I am not normally one to get any joy out of leather, but at that moment I lusted for it. He placed the crop on my back, sitting with the end between my ass cheeks, and left the room. And then left the house.

I waited, spread out and blind. I heard the front door close and listened, thinking, is he standing outside? Or is he inside, and the door was just a bluff? No, I felt quite sure he'd really left. At first I waited for him to come back inside. Slowly I realised he'd actually gone somewhere. I waited. I thought, he'll probably be only ten minutes. I started to wish I'd asked permission to use the toilet before he'd tied me down. I started to worry about that a lot, feeling pressure on my bladder from lying face down and groaned a little, imagining the horror if I couldn't hold on and eventually pissed in Master's bed. Eventually I caught hold of myself, and rationalised it. I didn't really need to go that badly at all - it was just the lack of any other sensation that was making the need feel stronger - nothing else to focus my attention on.

I tried to relax and prepare myself to wait. I listened, trying to hear if each passing car was his, pulling back into the driveway. Several times I was fooled. I wondered where he was, and what he was doing. I wondered if he would leave me there and go to work. I wondered if he had meant to be back by now, and something had gone wrong. I instantly scratched that thought from my mind - imagining bad things would only make me panic.

I wondered again if he really was there, and I raised my head to listen more carefully. It was hard - the sound of his ceiling fan was tricky. I whimpered a little, thinking again of my bladder, and called, "Sir...?". No answer. His home phone rang, kept ringing, and the machine answered, confirming I was alone. Ok. Don't think about needing to pee.

I started feeling mildly impatient, and tapped my fingers a little. I had been here so long. It felt like a couple of hours - and I'd thought he needed to be back to go to work? How long, I wondered, should I wait before trying to struggle out of this? I tried not to think that I wouldn't be able to, instead delayed the issue by reminding myself that Master had left me here because this was how he wanted me, and I should not fight that or I would disappoint him. I recognised that of course it would feel like a long time: I couldn't move, or see, and had nothing to occupy my mind other than my anxieties. I realised that the CD was on repeat, and I tried to work out how far through its second run it was. I reasoned that given the length of the album (that I knew well), I had been there roughly 3o minutes. Ok. But didn't that put it really close to the time he needed to be at work? If I was right, surely he had intended to be back by now. Suddenly I desperately wanted to know the time. I realised I could rub my head against the bed and dislodge the blindfold to check. But what if I couldn't get it back, and Master returned to find I had disobediently removed it? I resolved to hold on at least until the CD restarted a third time before I considered that an option.

I decided to stop worrying and concentrate on the music. I followed the lyrics and whispered the words to myself. Finally I started to give in, and relax. I was stuck here, alone. I trust Master, and I would trust that this was what he had intended - I had no other choice, anyway. Perhaps he really wouldn't return for a very long time, that wouldn't change anything. I had to wait, so I would wait.

Did I hear a noise? Was that the front door? I heard nothing further, just the music and the fan, and started to think I had imagined it. Then I thought I could hear breathing in the room with me - was that real? If Master was there, he was standing still a long time. What if it was someone else? A total stranger, walked into the house and standing there, looking at me... Just when I started to think it was all in my head, the bed creaked. Yes, definitely someone there. Was it Master, or not? I waited... finally, a body on the bed behind me, my thighs pushed apart, and a cock pushed inside me. Yes! It was him - inexplicably but unquestionably familiar. Suddenly all the anxieties of my wait came to a head and I felt euphoric - I would have orgasmed beyond belief that second... if I'd had permission :)

All up, Master said he had left me for 45 minutes. It was a challenging experience - I had to work to keep myself calm, and without the music I'm not sure I could have. But overall, a very positive one - and reaffirming of my trust in him. If there's a next time, it will probably be easier. And I hope - very cautiously - that there is.

You have to learn to crawl.... ;)

I have never before dreamed that I could go so far, and submit so much - and I know I can eventually give even more. In the past I always struggled with restrictions and felt I needed a break from submission - I was relieved to have my time away from past Doms.

But with Master, I cannot give enough. I now crave not just submission and service, but possession, enslavement, absorption - at times, obliteration.

We all have a certain amount of potential, but can live up to only as much as our environment allows. If I am a good sub, it is because I have an excellent Master - willing and able to bring that out in me.

Half a glass is half a glass

A while back, at the end of a long (hot, horny, objectifying) night that should be the subject of its own post, I was resting in Master's bedroom with a woman who once belonged to him. We had both been wearing collars that night, and as I watched her remove hers in preparation to leave, she smiled and said "Unlike you, I can take this off." I just smiled back, thinking, yes, but who is really better off here? As if she'd read my mind, she sighed and added "Trust me, you don't want to reach the point where you want to."

Suddenly I felt sorry for her. I know almost nothing about her relationship with Master and whether it was anything like mine. But at that moment I briefly imagined how awful it would be if all my devotion, submission, love, and desire to please him, was one day lost. Horrible - even worse than losing him.

Now here's a question worth asking: why do I persist in imagining the worst potential outcomes? I know the answer, but I'm not going into self-indulgent psychoanalysis explaining it: I'm just shit-scared, so I don't trust any situation that involves an emotional risk. It seems safer to expect I'm doomed from the beginning.

What if I imagined good things for a change? I wonder how it would feel... And could I really let myself, or would I chicken out?

Do you feel free yet?

I wasn't in the door for more than a couple of seconds last night when he asked that question and before I could even recognise the words he had me by my hair, pulling my head back, and was biting my face and neck while I gasped and moaned. He threw me on the couch and clamped one hand over my mouth while he fucked me, and I did feel free, paradoxically because I most certainly was not.

After some down time, and some not-so-down time, he asked me how roughly I wanted to be treated. I said "very roughly", and I meant it. Sista was online and he had me tell her what I had asked for. She asked me "why?" and I was surprised. It hadn't even occurred to me that anyone would wonder why - to me, the need was completely self-explanatory. I started to type "Because I like it" and then thought, I can do better than that. So I added "...and I want to test how much I can enjoy." I think its a hallmark of masochists that we want to test and compete with ourselves (which is probably the subject of another post), and part of my desire came from this, combined with the simple pleasure of pushing the limits (which is probably yet another post).

A warning for the feint-hearted:

some of the next two paragraphs may be disturbing to some people...

It was intense, and my recollection is all hazy and disordered. Master grabbed my hair and dragged me quickly to the bedroom, me trying to crawl frantically along the floor to keep up. He threw me on the bed and slapped my face hard, repeatedly. He held his hand over my mouth and nose. He hit and grabbed at my tits, twisting the nipples so hard I screamed until he told me to shut up. He took some rope and tied my hands behind my back firmly. He slapped my face more, hard, and ordered me to keep my head up so he could slap me some more. I felt liquid trickle from my nose and I thought it was because I was crying, until a later point when he said "You're bleeding, baby." He said it with warmth, but without remorse, so that I knew from his tone, even before he said so, that it didn't matter if I bled - he would continue anyway. And I felt sincere gratitude for that.

He placed a cover (was it a pillow case?) over my head and clamped a hand over my mouth as he struck my body, open-handed and with closed fists, especially my breasts. As he fucked me he asked me what else I wanted and I felt shocked at the answer that came to mind: I want you to kill me, Sir. I couldn't say it - it was the only point during the entire experience that I felt fear. Was I afraid that if I said it, then he would do it? Maybe, I'm not sure... Was I afraid that I meant it? Yes, definitely.

As I said, I didn't feel afraid of him the entire time (my one moment of fear, was fear of myself). I trusted completely that he was in control. Why, then, did I cry? It was genuinely a pleasurable experience, and yet that was still my natural reaction to being treated this way. It felt like a release - exorcising demons of some kind. I won't analyse it too much - I'm not sure I want to see what I'll find.

What I loved the most was his utter lack of remorse. Another paradox: this is what makes me feel safe. He shows no anxiety about hurting me, and this gives me faith that he knows what he is doing. Master cares for my wellbeing and checks that I'm ok, but he does it calmly and with total confidence, so that I never doubt that he is in control. And all this gives me one other important kind of safety: acceptance. He doesn't flinch from the extreme, he doesn't show an ounce of hesitation no matter how close to the edge we go, and this makes me feel that I am ok. No matter how far I want to go, no matter how dark and violent my desire, it will not make him uncomfortable or afraid. With him, I am never judged. And that is most certainly freedom.

Here's a link to an article I read a while back, and am reminded of now, on psychological reactance to helplessness in subs/slaves

True sluts die hard

Master's teaching style is like nothing I've encountered before. I have to strain to think of a time he's directly said no to me. He may correct me, but rarely will he tell me what to say or do in place of my error - he waits for me to figure it out myself, with little more than a subtle nudge in the right direction if I really, really need it. I find this a very valuable part of my journey: I am really learning, not just repeating what I'm told.

When I passed on a play request from Sir J recently, I expected he may think about it before giving an answer. I should not have been surprised when, instead, he told me to think about it. He said "I want you to consider what is really being asked here." It has taken me longer than it should to respond, but I do think I understand...

The play I am permitted to take part in is not for my own enjoyment - I may be allowed some pleasure, but that is a gift, not to be taken for granted. I participate for my Master's pleasure, and second to that, for the pleasure of others he has invited. It is not appropriate for me to play for the pleasure of myself and other people, just because I have been asked to.

But there is even more to it than that. Its also about power and what it means to submit. I have given myself to Master. If I submit to another, who he has not chosen to offer me to, I am taking from him. Master's property is not mine to give.

And more still: its about what it means to truly belong to him. If I am completely his, there should be no part of me that is not devoted to him. That means no part of me that should ever want to submit to someone else. And I know Sir J understands this: when I was his sub, he forbade me from submitting to others from the beginning - so I would "know who I belonged to". But Sir J missed an important point: being forced to act a certain way, and choosing to act that way because it reflects what I really feel, are different things.

I never used to understand some subs who so proudly say they are submissive only to their "one". That always seemed to sound "less sub" to me. But more recently I've realised they are more sub. Because to give yourself entirely to another person, there cannot be anything left for anyone else. Now that I've rethought that, it seems so obvious - I can't believe I never grasped what that meant before. I have been thinking of myself as submissive in general, slave to one. But for that to really be true, I have to give up the submissive "in general" part - it becomes just a historical fact.

This isn't just about one scene, or just about submission, or even just about BDSM. Its about all play with all people. I belong to Master, and my purpose is to please him. I need to let go of the hope I still hang on to for my own play and my own pleasure. This is hard for me to even admit - I feel so disappointed with myself to realise how far I still have to go. I am an absolute slut, after all, and that makes this very hard to let go of. A part of the reason this response has taken so long, is that I realised I am on the verge of making that leap. It has been a long time since I've had my own fun, and for the most part I've had little desire to, but to give up not just the right, but the hope and expectation of it, feels like a very hard step to take.

I won't play with Sir J, not because Master says no, but because I say no. Because I know who I belong to.

I want to give myself completely to him. I want to exist only for his pleasure. I don't know if that's possible - I am a mother, too. But its what I want. May I, please, Sir?