When I first started exploring my submissiveness, I took an online course from the Powerotics Training Academy (which is no longer in existence as far as I know). One of the assignments was to look at various pictures – mostly of woman in bondage positions – and share my reactions to each.

Doing that assignment, I learned (and Master learned) that I had this fear of not being able to breathe. I had the strongest reactions to those pictures that showed the women with their mouths covered. At the time, it seemed that breath play might be a hard limit.

Over the past several months, I’ve had the experience of having my face buried in Master’s chest while he is fucking me. I just started naturally pressing my face against his flesh, creating the sensation of my breath being cut off for a moment. Master noticed this one day and noted the shift in my desire. It’s something that has just been incorporated as harmony to our usual, sexual melody.

Lately, though, I’ve really wanted Him to smother me…to have that sensation of not being able to breath for more than a moment. In fact, I asked Him today, “Please smother me and tell me when to cum.”

He commented, “I thought you didn’t like breath play,” with that devilish smile on His face. Without further words, He covered my mouth and nose…and made me cum.

My perspective on breath play is indeed very different now, although I’m not sure it is a newfound interest in breath play in and of itself. I certainly like that sensation of not being able to breathe for a moment (or two or three), but more than anything I like the idea and the feeling of being at His mercy.

In an attempt to control the world around them, most people will hold their breath (and make it very shallow). I know that for me I definitely hold my breath when I am trying to hold back saying something (anger, hurt, sadness, etc.). It’s not a conscious decision, but certainly a reaction borne of not trusting how life is unfolding in that particular moment.

When I think of Him controlling my breath I start to feel a deeper sense of surrender. In a moment like that, I don’t get to decide anything. There is no stop along the way in my brain where I think, “He told me to do something, now I am going to do it.” It’s controlling me at the most basic, survival level.

I close my eyes, and I imagine Him grabbing my throat to strangle me. I look up into His eyes with a “take me, I’m willing” look. He squeezes until I cannot breathe. Instead of panic overtaking me, I imagine trust flowing from me. I will breathe again…at the moment of His choosing.

“Surrender means that you open to your lover every aspect of self for their exploration. It means that you can allow yourself to be taken on a journey without knowing the destination. Only in sharing every part of self, even the parts or secrets you are ashamed of, and especially the parts that hurt, can you truly surrender.” - Anonymous

I spent last weekend with some girlfriends. We got to talking about how we handle anger and other strong emotions. One friend observed that I never seem to get ruffled and that I’m so even keel. I just laughed because that is usually far from the truth and that my reaction on the inside and behind closed doors is not even keel.

Master knows the “not so even keel” side of me. Because I feel safe with Him, I tend to let out my feelings and vent. Sometimes all I need Him to do is listen; other times He can say things to calm me.

There is still a part of me, though, that gets scared and pulls inward. It might appear as stoicism to everyone around me including Master, although to Him it might appear more like lethargy. When I’m in this zone, I’m usually struggling to figure out how I’m feeling. The words don’t come (it can even be hard to journal). I’ll tell people I’m tired or something, but really I just want to fly under the radar.

Transparency is key to any D/s relationship. In many ways, being transparent with Master has gotten easier since being collared. In some ways, though, I’m still struggling. I tend to hold back when I haven’t figured out what my emotions are myself. I don’t think I can share them with Him if I can’t be fairly articulate about what they are.

Sharing my confusing emotions feels like a leap – a vulnerable leap. It’s hard to think of handing Him my raw emotions – not because I think He’ll do something hurtful with them but because it is ceding a level of control.

If I hold back and ruminate on things, then I have a chance to shape the clay of my emotions. By the time I share them with Him, I’ve already exerted a certain level of interpretation that controls what comes out. What I share may still be pliable and open to His input, but I’ve already started to shape it. Sharing my emotions with Him in those early, inarticulate stages is like handing him the ball of clay that is me – with no shape or form – just me.

It’s hard to think of giving up that kind of control when I’m caught up in the feelings, but it makes it easier when I start to see it as another level of surrender.

This is an entry from my private journal on June 18, 2006. It was during a time that I was yearning for an outlet to express my submissiveness. Master was in my life as a friend but we were not actively engaging in our dynamic. (I contend it has always been there, although there have been times when it was suppressed or dormant.) I’d had experiences with other Dominants, and I was trying to reconcile my deep-seated need with my experiences.

I was remembering this period of time the other day when Master and I were talking about  the ways in which submissives try to fulfill this need when they don’t have a Master at that moment. Some women try to give themselves that physical sensation by attempting to restrain themselves or inflicting pain on themselves. I admit to having tried that but I realize that my deep down need was more emotional than physical.

During this time in 2006, I felt lost and I was yearning to just be told what to do. It is the core need that I ache for sometimes (even now). When this need is not being fulfilled, I can feel myself going crazy a bit. It can be very frustrating because there is really no way to fulfill this need on my own (i.e. telling myself what to do). And, it is not just anyone that can fulfill it (in fact, I’ll rebel to most people telling me what to do). It’s a need really only a Master – my Master – can fulfill.

~~~~~~~~~~

I don’t know how to integrate this part of me [my submissiveness] into my life. I don’t know how to live peacefully with it. I feel like it is a caged animal that – when let out – I have no control over. I let Him (generic Him) have control…because he was the one saying it was OK to let it out…and then he leaves…doesn’t stick around…treats it like a playful moment. Ah…isn’t that fun and exciting. It is…but I’m not satisfied with a moment. I need more…I need it consistently…I need it deeper…I need it to the core of my being…and yet I’m only felt with a taste…left with these feelings…alone…for me to figure out what to do. I’m lost without his direction.

When I ask Master for permission to masturbate, it’s a 50/50 chance that He’ll say yes. The only two, possible answers are yes or no.

When He says yes, it comes with a bit of explanation. He might say, “Yes you may, but you can only play with your nipples” or “Yes, but you have to start now and cum within 30 minutes” or “You only have an hour.”

When He says no, it is usually much more succinct. No further explanation is required, really. I’m always struck though how pithy the answer is.

The thing is that no matter what His answer is, I’m happy.

When He says yes, I get excited in anticipation of what I am allowed to do. I get enthusiastic about not only masturbating but in sharing about the experience afterwards in a report to Him. I get giddy that I get to play and savor something that I used to take for granted.

When He says no, I get more turned on than if He had let me masturbate. I get tingly (as if on the verge of orgasm) and feel His control surge through my body. I get curious what He has in store for me next.

I might be disappointed for a moment if I had my heart set on playing, but these feelings quickly subside in favor of feeling His control seep into every cell of my body.

Having Him control my sexuality and having full say over when I cum and when I don’t is a win/win situation for me. I’m a happy, satisfied sub in either case.

I have not had control of my orgasms since last October. It started during a time when we were both away on separate trips with a simple “No orgasms until I see you next” instruction from Master. I’d been on restriction before, and I enjoy it. Little did I know it would be the beginning of the end of me controlling any of my orgasms.

In general, when we think about someone controlling someone’s else life, we usually think of a person explicitly telling another what to do…and to submit to another is to follow their direction. My experience of having all of my orgasms controlled is different than that.

I have to ask Master for permission for every orgasm (masturbation or during sex) – that is the single directive He has given me. Yet, now I find myself seeking His permission in other areas of my life.

For instance, I had an opportunity to travel to see a friend for a weekend. Previously, taking a trip like this would be a matter of telling Master, “I’ll be out of town” or “I’m going to see my friend”…announcing my decision. Yet, I had this urge to ask Him permission to go. I sat with it for a while thinking if I should or not. He’s not requiring me to ask permission to travel; He hasn’t even expressed interest in controlling things like this. Nevertheless – in that moment – I felt like I couldn’t make this decision on my own.

I wrote to Him:

“I have to admit that before saying yes to this trip, I feel I need to consult with you – to ask permission. The urge to do so feels very natural, and the thought of asking permission to travel is not only comforting but arousing (in the sense of feeling your control). I do hesitate with this feeling, though – not because I’m struggling with asking for permission - but because I’m not sure if asking you for permission for things like this is pestering you in areas you don’t want to have input on.”

His response was essentially that we are entering new territory, and we need to sort out over time the things that require His input and the things that don’t. He encouraged me to ask when I feel the urge and that we’ll sort out the details. Master is not one to micromanage; and – as much as I crave His control – I’m not really a person that likes micromanagement! He will pick and choose the things that require His input and the things that don’t. In essence, He controls even when He decides the things He doesn’t care to control.

Still, it’s not about Him directing my actions or controlling my decisions. By controlling a very fundamental aspect of my being – my sexuality – I am naturally relinquishing and seeking His control in other aspects of my life.

The day after I wrote “breaking my will” to Master, He came over. We spent the afternoon together…having sex interlaced with a deep discussion of how I felt lost and stuck.

“You still can control; you just don’t want to,” He tells me. I knew deep down what He was saying was true, but it was nothing like how I was feeling at this point in time.

I had a few orgasms asking for permission to cum each time and then He told me to cum. My body responded and came – seemingly bypassing my brain again. I started to cry and lamented out loud, “What is happening to me?”

He let me cry, providing that energetic shield of love and support to allow me to fully experience the feelings.

When I calmed down, He asked, “Do you feel damaged?”

“No…I wonder if I’m being brainwashed,” I replied. As much as I desire this, the part that worries and protects me from “being tricked” has been surfacing.

He laid on top of me as He has done so many times over the years. Not once has His weight on top of me been an issue…until that day. He was fucking me, and the weight of His body started to feel like it was crushing me. I couldn’t breathe and started hyperventilating. I felt like He was sinking into me. I was letting Him in at every level – physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually – and I panicked like I was suffocating. He got off me, and I’m crying loudly and trying to catch my breath. He caressed me, and I slowly calmed down. When I’ve finally caught my breath, and I’m breathing as normally as possible, He tells me how hard my crying made Him. Hearing that comforted me because I realized I wasn’t falling apart; I was falling right into Him.

“I feel like I’m dying,” I say.

“Do you feel like you’ll go away?” He asks.

“No, I feel like a part of me is dying.” I answer.

“Is that a good thing?”

“Yes.”

“What will happen when that part dies?”

“Well, I don’t know if this fits your definition, but I’ll be your slave.”

He started fucking me again, and I started hyperventilating again. I asked Him not to get off me completely, although He did rise up enough not to be resting on my chest. I was trying not to push the panic away…to just let it be there.

After resting in each other’s arms for a while, we got up off the bed. He did say that once I’ve calmed down and accepted this, I’d be His slave. It was hard to believe I might be close. As much as I’ve wanted to rush the process in the past, I was getting the importance and significance of being in this moment, and my need to rush it had receded.

As He left, He told me I was now on masturbation restriction – that I would have to ask permission each and every time I wanted to masturbate. He explained how this would require forethought on my part to get permission – say before bedtime.

I smiled and for the first time in the weeks since cumming on command, I felt an inner calm.

Master fucked me silly this afternoon.

I’ve been on orgasm restriction the last two weeks. When He put me on restriction, it was a busy week, and I had not masturbated much at all. So, it has been two or three weeks since I’ve cum.

It actually feels like longer, though. It’s been over a month since I last had sex with Master. While I’ve masturbated since then, it’s mostly the short-orgasm-before-I-fall-asleep kind of masturbation (in other words, not wholly satisfying).

When He put me on restriction, He said I could play with myself, but I couldn’t cum. In what probably falls into a textbook definition of a masochist, I did play with my vibrator and would bring myself to the edge without cumming. It probably wasn’t smart to tempt myself this way, but I love feeling His control in such a physical way even when He is not here.

He started with some caresses, then took out the riding crop. The pain felt so good. It’s interesting how I brace myself when I know a strike is coming. He struck me with a mix of soft and hard hits. One across my back made my eyes tear. In preparing for what would be His last strike, I clenched my whole body anticipating a hard swat. He then tapped me lightly. I like how He teases me.

He fucked me to many, many orgasms. He peppered permission, no permission and moments of not having to ask permission throughout. He’d pause and I thought He was done, then He’d enter me again, and I’d cum several more times.

I couldn’t stand up at the end. I’d stand up and have to sit down. I’ve tried to concentrate on some tasks since He left, and it’s useless. My body is still buzzing, and my head is floating in a haze.

I like feeling lost in this haze. It takes my mind off feeling lost.

I took a trip at the end of June, and Master told me to expect an assignment while I was away. Here’s my report to Him on fulfilling the assignment.

Since I didn’t get my assignment on Friday night, I knew it would come Saturday. You knew my schedule for the day, but I wasn’t sure how you’d use that information in the timing of my assignment.

When I arrived at my friend’s party, I had to go to the bathroom. While in there, I wondered if I had to come in here to fulfill any assignment how that might work out. When someone tried to open the door as soon as I sat down on the toilet, I knew the bathroom was going to be busy during this party. That could either help or hinder my assignment…if it came during the party.

I checked my phone a few times during the party. I didn’t think I’d hear the text message sound. If there was a time limit on my assignment, I didn’t want it dwindling away and making it more challenging to fulfill because I didn’t check.

I got your text message just as I was leaving the party. I smiled and felt myself get all excited as I read it. Since I was just getting on the road, I knew it would be at least 45 minutes before I could complete it.

As I drove, I was trying to figure out how to do this. The friends I was staying with were gone for the day. They said they’d been home between 3-5 pm. It was just 3 pm when I got the assignment. So, if they were home when I got home, do I just go into the bathroom? Or do I just say I need to take a nap? Since life it so hectic and their house (especially if they’d just gotten home), I half-wondered if I should stop at a gas station bathroom on the way home and complete it! But I didn’t entertain that thought for very long…

When I got to their house, no one was home. They are having the outside of her house painted, though, and the painters were here.

I went in and came into the bedroom and stripped. It was very hot here yesterday, so stripping would have been first on the agenda in any case. I knew they could be home at any minute, and the likelihood of their son bursting into his room (which he’d given up to me for my stay) upon their arrival was high. So I set up a blanket to cover myself quickly, if needed.

I then relaxed and started playing with my nipples. It felt so good! Even though I am not on restriction right now, playing with my nipples always feels like a treat.

I was trying to decide what fantasy inspiration I would use here. The thought of You watching me while I cum for you usually works. The fact that I might be walked in on at any minute added to my excitement. But it was this painter working just a few feet from the open bedroom window that got me pretty wet.

I don’t think I’ve shared my general fantasies of delivery men or other household workers (painters would qualify) with you…that these men show up at the house, and I answer the door scantily clad, and I flirt and tease and subtly encourage them they can have me if they want me.

So, hearing him working outside the window got me pretty aroused. I then started fantasizing that you and I were playing on my couch. My doorbell rings. He says it is UPS, and he needs a signature. You get up and throw on your pants, but you tell me to lay exactly where I am with my legs open. You open the door and a handsome, muscular UPS guy hands you the package and asks for your signature. He’s just staring at me while you sign, and I’m blushing but not closing my legs because you told me not to. You see him staring at me and invite him in. I didn’t get much further than before I came!!

I laid there for a few moments naked when the doorbell rang. I wasn’t sure if was the painter wanting to use the bathroom or something. I got up and quickly dressed. They rang the doorbell again as I was dressing. Turned out it was more friends whom they were expecting (she’d told me they were coming, but didn’t say when). They’d talked to our mutual friends and said they should be there at any moment. I welcomed them in while thinking, “Wow…just in the nick of time!”

I enjoyed my afternoon orgasm so much that it spilled over a bit when I was ready for bed. I came again right before I texted you last night thinking of You standing over me telling me to cum.

Thank you for my assignment, Master! I always enjoying cumming for You.

How do I spell relief? C-U-M

In the past 20 days, Master has let me cum twice (no masturbation or playing with my nipples). Actually, I could have cum a few more times last Monday when He let me play with my nipples only, but I was satisfied in that moment with one, big orgasm.

The level of sexual tension created by not touching myself at all is quite high. I’ve dealt with the restriction by bringing myself to the brink of orgasm several times without touching myself at all (just by viewing videos and reading stories that spark my imagination). It really does underscore the power of our minds in our sexual expression!

I also tried to get creative on ways to stimulate myself. At one point, I was craving feeling my nipples erect and tight. Since I couldn’t touch them, I threw my bed covers off of me and hoped that the chilly room would make them stand up. It didn’t work very well (maybe winter would be a better time to try this trick!), but never underestimate the ingenuity of a sub!

I probably made the tension worse by bringing myself to the brink of orgasm again and again. I didn’t think much, though, about how it might be contributing to stress I’m feeling in others areas of my life (work in particular).

When Master entered my apartment today and asked me how I was doing, the nicest way I could put it was that I was not in a good mood at all. When He asked if I would like to cum, I hugged Him and begged, “Yes, yes! Please make me cum!”

He let me have a treat today and suspended the requirement to ask permission to cum each time. He said I could cum as many times as I wanted when I wanted to. Oh, his cock felt so good inside me! …and his mouth on my nipples. Mmmmmm. My pussy is on fire just thinking about it again! I tried to keep count of my orgasms, but I lost track after five.

I came hardest when He was teasing and touching my nipples. At one point He just hovered over one nipple and let His breath tease it. I came very easily by just feeling his breath on my nip and his hard cock resting inside me!

He’s now said I can play with myself unrestricted this week. I’ve already cum twice since He left, and plan on a nice session tonight before bed.

Interestingly enough, the stress from work and my attitude about it has adjusted significantly this afternoon. Go figure!

Having the restrictions lifted this week will be nice, and I will enjoy it. I have been thinking, though, about my attitude toward restriction.

In my last post, I wondered how long my restriction would last. As I wrote that question, I felt a tinge inside me…like it wasn’t quite right. I also started thinking about Master telling me not to beg to cum last Monday, and I started to question my attitude toward this restriction.

I asked Master for clarification on begging. I asked if He was telling me not to beg in that moment or if He didn’t want me begging in general. He told me it was a command in the moment. Still, it made me think about my begging…

Begging can be very erotic. “Please Master, may i cum? Please may i?” can make the body-tingling tension build for both us. In those moments, I’m not asking for control.

When I wonder when my restriction will end, however,  I am – in essence – begging for the moment I can have control back.

So, one night last week as I was thinking about all of this, I asked myself, “What if every orgasm I have for the rest of my life was by Master’s choice?” I felt my whole being shift with that question. No longer did I worry if or when I would get control back. In fact, I realized that is exactly what I want and feeds my aspirations to be His slave. That night, I slept the deepest I have slept in a long time.

Even when He gives me permission to have as many orgasms as I want and to play with myself unrestricted, He is in control.

Relinquishing my desire for control in exchange for serving Him makes every orgasm sweeter and deeper. It is one more step to surrendering the keys to my soul.