He didn’t leave bite marks, but my flesh is sore. I turn my head, and I feel the zing of pain – an aftershock less painful but just as pleasant as the initial bite.

I giggle softly out loud as I remember turning to expose my neck to Him and asking Him to bite me. In response He gave me a peck on the cheek and paused – before sinking His teeth into me.

The smell of sex lingers. I inhale with my eyes closed, remembering His hot cum filling the back of my throat. I sucked His cock until right at the last when He started fucking my mouth. My own motions were incongruous with His until I stopped mine and focused on keeping my throat open and forming a sphincteral opening with my lips that allowed Him to use my mouth as He would my pussy or ass.

I lie in bed reflecting on the day before with my wrists crossed above my head as if He were holding them there Himself. I spread my legs instinctively. The cool air brushes my nipples as I imagine His lips and mouth doing the same.

I drift to sleep with a smile and think about how happy I am to be owned.

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.

His voice…

…makes me smile when He says, “Hello.”

…excites me when He calls.

…makes me wet when I see Him.

…whispers in my ear when I read e-mails from Him.

…calms me when I am nervous.

…soothes me when I am upset.

…focuses me when I am scattered.

…strengthens me when I have lost faith in myself.

…guides me when I step out and express myself.

…thrills me when He commands me.

…arouses me when He controls me.

…seduces me when we explore new territory.

…erupts from within me when He commands me to cum.

…envelops me when He declares I am His.

…seeps into every cell of my being with each step of our journey.

…lives in me every moment, even in the silence.

This is an e-mail I sent to Master sharing with him my internal struggles about cumming on command…

~~~~~~~~~~

I shared that I had a tough time last weekend, and you asked me why it was so tough. It’s hard for me to pinpoint. I know that during the weekend my attitude was, “Fuck it!” and I just proceeded to do what I thought I wanted. Of course, I didn’t feel good at the end.

It seems cliche to say I was grabbing for control (although eating disorders have a lot to do with that). I have felt lost since cumming on command. Actually, I’ve felt schizophrenic. On one hand, I am calm and fine; on the other, I am panicking. At any one moment, I can be feeling one or the other. I feel like I’ve been teetering on the line of two worlds…with the question, “Which one am I going to choose?

The part of me that panics is not worried about the idea of cumming on command, but the experience was totally different than what I expected. It was so…automatic. My brain was thinking, “I’m not ready yet,” and my body said differently. In some ways, it felt like I wasn’t even there…but it was me…and it just ends up being so confusing.

It’s easy to get caught up in the romantic notions of surrendering…”my will is His will.” Even in the vanilla world, mushy notions of being one with your partner is the stuff of wedding vows and Hallmark cards. Yet now – having had a taste of truly surrendering my will – I shake my head a bit that people (including me) don’t seem to understand the depth of what they are asking for when they say that. Don’t get me wrong, the idea is no less beautiful or no less desired – it is just one thing to think you want to be One with someone and another to experience it.

On other slave blogs or posts to groups on FetLife there is talk about ideas like, “Am I really a slave?” These conversations often center around the fact that in our society, a person cannot be legally owned by another. So really, if a slave decided, “This is it. I don’t want to play anymore” there is nothing legally binding a person to stay. What strikes me about these conversations is that it seems wonderful to create a world where your will becomes another’s but really…isn’t this just a world we create that is separate from reality?

I’ve been happily going down this path toward slavery, and I do so badly want my will to be broken. Yet, I realize now that I always thought that my choice would still be involved. I thought that breaking my will would involve me somehow aligning my choices with yours but – that as much as we could fantasize about me being owned by You – that as a human in a free society my brain would still have to make the conscious choice to do as You say or be as You want me to be. You could command me to do certain things, but – in the end – I would still have to make the choice to follow.

So when my body obeyed and my mind seemed to be bypassed, I was stunned. And then when I masturbated and couldn’t cum or just had weak orgasms, I really panicked. My brain is thinking one thing, and my body is doing another. It’s scary…and it’s nothing like how I thought breaking my will would look like.

“Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They are in each other all along.” -Rumi

This quote showed up in my mailbox today. I just smiled when I read it.

Through a conversation with Master last week, we discovered that I had e-mail messages from the beginning of our relationship that he hadn’t saved himself. So, I’ve been working to identify the messages he is missing from our “archive” of exchanges and getting him a copy of them.

While doing this, I browsed our messages. It was quite a walk down memory lane! In many ways, I see how I’ve grown; in other ways, I see places where I’m still stuck.

Long before Master, I was enamored of the idea of soulmates. I romanticized and fantasized about finding my soulmate. Like the fairy tales, I believed in “happily ever after.”

Sometimes I still daydream about happily ever after, but I no longer believe in the concept of a single soulmate. The word soulmate has a fatalistic connotation that negates the ways we create our own world.

When I read the above quote this morning, I liked it because it describes succinctly the draw we have for another person, but I also interpreted that Rumi wasn’t chalking it all up to fate.

Relationships are hard work, and I think it takes more than fate to bring two people together and then make it work. What I find hardest is peeling the layers of vulnerability. Just when I think I’ve bared my soul, another layer reveals itself.

This kind of vulnerability is not exclusive to M/s (D/s) relationships, but my journey to be His slave is peeling layers that I’m sure I never would have reached in a vanilla relationship.

Even through the roughest of times with Master over the years we’ve known each other, I feel like He’s been in me. That’s why I smiled when I read this quote.

Master called me in between meetings this morning. He said he was thinking about me…about punishment, restriction, me flooding the bed and all the ways He could fuck me. It put a silly grin on my face that I’ve had all day long.

I reach behind my neck and rub the clasp of His collar. I am owned…and really nothing could make me happier.

It was the second time this week that I felt His ownership of me tingle through me and fill me up. We had this text message exchange on Monday where I shared that I still had bruises from sex on Friday.

So then, why do I still struggle with the thought of being an object?

Sometimes I think I’m in a dream, exploring territory few dare to go. I’ll be riding along and a part of me jolts and wonders when this dream bubble is going to pop. I find myself wanting to be prepared. I want to make sure I don’t crash into the ground when it does burst.

It’s not like the essence of this struggle is endemic only to M/s. Women have found themselves in this situation a lot (especially my mother’s generation) where making a man their world sets them up for a fall. My own mother left college to marry my father only to find herself nine years later having to get a job that would support herself and two kids and finding limited, low paying choices. I saw her fall, and I’ve seen others fall.

I know I’m not in this type of situation. I have my degree; I run a successful business; I no longer see my submissiveness and my independence as mutually exclusive. Still, I sometimes panic.

From Day One, He’s told me I don’t have to compromise. Both my submissiveness and my independence make up the essence of who I am. He values all of me, and He wouldn’t find me attractive if I didn’t have both.

As I go down this path toward being His slave, I’m discovering more about myself that surprises me. Deeper needs to be used, to be humiliated, to experience extreme pain are surfacing. As I let these desires see the light of day, they sometimes feel overwhelming, and I wonder if the scale is tipping too far toward being just an object.

I’ll fantasize that His power will drown out this voice inside me that panics. I imagine that He has the power to remove the struggle within me instead of realizing I have the power to surrender.

I trust Him more than I ever have right now, and the trust inside myself is growing more and more.

Is it safe to blog when cum drunk?

He undressed in front of me. I sat on the couch fully clothed. I wonder in moments like this if I should eagerly jump off and strip, too…or wait for His direction.

I waited for His direction. He stroked his cock in front of me.

“You’re making my pussy wet,” I state.

“It doesn’t take much to make your pussy wet,” He replies.

True.

He stands in front of me, and I start sucking. I love the feel of His cock on the back of my throat. I relax my jaw as He pumps and fucks my mouth.

He tells me to strip and points me toward the bedroom.

As soon as He enters me, my body tingles. It’s hard to describe the feeling of completeness I have when He’s inside me.

I ask to cum pretty quickly. He says no and, ” what about foreplay?” Yes, I want to linger and not cum so quickly but I also feel the orgasm welling up inside me; I don’t want to mistakenly cum without permission.

He teases and sucks and slaps my nipples and breasts. He bites soft and harder. I’m lingering on that edge, and with each breath to help hold myself back the intensity builds.

“Do you want to cum?”

“yes”

“You may cum.”

The first one starts, and the wonderful, luscious roller coaster begins.

He suck my nipples…”May I cum?” Yes…

He fucks my pussy fast and hard…”May I cum?” Yes…

He rests His cock in my pussy while biting me….”May I cum?” Yes…

At one point instead of asking, I declared, “I’m going to cum.” He didn’t acknowledge me with a yes, so I rephrased, “May I cum?” Yes…

He moves around the bed and puts His balls in my face. I lick and suck while He fingers my clit, then fingers my pussy. I asked to cum, and did so both times including squirting over His hand.

He rolled over, and I licked his nipples. He pulled my hair tightly as He was about to cum himself. “Swallow my cum,” He says and I move my mouth onto His cock just as He cums in mouth.

My body just buzzed afterwards…and I am still glowing hours later.

“You asked every time,” He said afterwards with a pleased tone of satisfaction.

As He walked out the door, I thanked Him for all the orgasms. He suggested that might have to last me as my freedom to masturbate freely (which I’ve had for several weeks now) may be coming to an end.

I caress my body and slowly tease my nipples as I smile both in deep satisfaction and in joyful anticipation of His next command.

I’ve always been curious about the term 24/7.

When I first discovered my submissiveness, it seemed like an extreme – a place I wasn’t sure I’d go. Clearly, I was turned on by dominance in the bedroom, but afterwards, wouldn’t things just go back to “normal?”

Later (I’m not quite sure when), it became a fantasy. As I’ve realized that my submission is not something I turn on or off, the idea of 24/7 is appealing. 24/7 started to mean a lot of things to me like living with Master and a sense of expressing my submissiveness more freely and regularly. The idea has been aspirational, which also implies a sort of gap (that something is missing in the moment).

Recently Master’s and my schedule have just been crazy between travel and work and other commitments have thwarted efforts and desires to see each other.

When I was talking to him yesterday and we were trying to figure out schedules, it looked like I might not see him for two more weeks. I cried out, “Nooooo…” when he suggested that was the reality. I knew we’re both busy and this is just the circumstances right now, but I found myself thinking about my fantasy of 24/7.

On profiles (like FetLife or alt.com), there is usually an option to say 24/7 or “practice the lifestyle when I can.” I chuckled to myself that this is one of those times when “practice when I can” seems to fit.

But then I wondered…is that really true? We may not play all the time (or as often as we’d wish). There is the fantasy of 24/7 and all I may think that implies, and there is also the reality: that I am His 24/7 no matter what the circumstances….when I’m working, when I’m traveling and other times when I’m seemingly on my own.

Instead of feeling like my fantasy bubble burst, I smiled and took great comfort.

I am His 24/7 no matter what.

Last Saturday I learned the wonderful capabilities of my body and experienced female ejaculation and multiple orgasms for the first time. I’ve been sharing with Master all week in much detail as I learned more about my body through my (somewhat obsessive) exploration with my dildo. I couldn’t wait for Master to come and experience all of this with me (pun intended).

“I’m on my way…I’m trying to decide what to do with you first,” He says on the phone. My body tingles knowing my wait to see him is ending. I also love that he is plotting and planning and that my job is to surrender.

I showed Master my newfound skills. I was a bit worried about performance anxiety and if I’d be able to replicate cumming with an audience. That worry was quite unfounded. Having Master watch me masturbate is highly arousing. He massaged around my vulva as I masturbated with this wonderful g-spot tool. I loved how his strong touch enhanced the deep pleasures welling up from inside me.

I don’t even know how long we spent having sex. Time suspended. We did so many things…he fucked my sopping wet pussy after I came masturbating for Him…I licked his ass and fucked it with my tongue…he tried to fuck my ass (more on that later)…he blindfolded me…he whipped me with something new (he wouldn’t tell me what it was) and I loved it…he fucked my pussy with my g-spot tool and watched the cum come out of me like a waterfall…he pulled on one of my nipples while doing this and I came (with cum) instantly, which pleased me no end…he then put his cock in my pussy and I ejaculated with him inside me (which pleasantly surprised him)….I licked his nipples and He came…I asked to lick his balls and reveled in savoring them…while down there I explored his ass with my tongue again…I licked his nipples one more time…He came again…and I lapped up every last drop of cum before resting in his arms.

We spent the rest of the day together, and I enjoyed spending so much uninterrupted time with him. In fact, I didn’t even realize how late it was when he finally got up to leave.

He called me on his way home, which was wonderful since I didn’t really want our day to end. He gave me an assignment to work on stretching my ass with my dildo over the next two weeks, which I will eagerly do. We then talked and talked until he got home. I love how we still have so much we’re learning about each other.

I slept soundly and deeply…the best I’ve slept in a while actually. I woke gradually this morning. I feel very content, but I also have an empty feeling.

I hate this feeling after he leaves. In the past, it has triggered other feelings related to times as a child when I felt left alone. Before when I didn’t recognize that I was being triggered, I’d focus on whatever I felt was not perfect about our relationship and we’d deal with that for however many days. I look back and I lament how the old marred the new…and how confusing it must have been for Master to have a great time with me and then have me be so sad or mad or upset afterwards.

Since joining FetLife, I’ve realized there is a term for this: subdrop. I didn’t realize that most (if not all) subs experience this. From my reading I know it can vary in degrees. I’d say today is a mild case of subdrop. Still I’d rather do without it!

When I start to feel the emptiness, I close my eyes and caress my body. I lightly touch my nipples and tug on the rings. I imagine Master is watching me or guiding me and asking me to soothe myself since he’s not here. I think about suckling his cock. He and I have joked that it is my “pacifier.” I take my dildo and suckle it. Surprisingly, it does help.

I’ve always struggled with my needs…that I am somehow bad for having them. It’s taken me a lot to untangle those messages…and it’s in times like these when I can be with the feelings rather than succumbing to them that I realize how far I’ve come.

I know He is not going away. I feel that comfort more and more each day. I also feel Him weaving more and more into the fiber of my being. In that sense, I feel myself going through a metamorphosis. I will not just one day suddenly be His slave…I am becoming His slave.