Tag Archives: submission

As Mister’s submissive part II

BDSM call preview 4I wrote “As Mister’s submissive part I” a long time ago and promised I would share more about my time as Mister’s submissive in the future. It’s hard to remember the details of the relationship after so much time has passed, but reliving it to write this post has been fun.

In my first post about the relationship, I explained some of the rules Mister had for me and what I did in service to him. I did not go into the times we played, so I thought I would focus on that in this post. The first night I spent with him, I kneeled below him at the table when we ate dinner. After eating, I served him an apple martini, made to his specifications. We fooled around a bit but I don’t recall much else of what happened that evening. In the morning, he went to work and gave me a list of things to clean in the house. He came back at lunch and inspected what I had done, expressing how pleased he was with me. Then he took me to his dungeon.

It was appropriately located in his basement, which was small but had just enough room to offer variety in play. At the bottom of the stairs and to the right was a St. Andrews cross with whips hanging on either side. To the left of that was a futon for aftercare and fucking. On the other side of the futon sat “the tower”. It worked just as a wooden horse does, but was constructed a little different. There was a tall wooden pillar with a removable block near the bottom that could fit into different slots depending on the height of the submissive being used on it. Once seated on the tower, the submissive’s ankles could be tied so her kneesBDSM call preview 3 pointed down, causing immense pain to her pussy as her weight pushed her harder on to the block. On the far side of the dungeon was a chair that a person could be tied to with legs spread for various types of torture. Mister built all of the furniture with incredible skill. Opposite the BDSM furniture was an armoire which held implements for beating people, items to do electricity play and needle play, hoods, cuffs, sounding instruments and more. The walls were painted red and the floor was covered with mats suitable for wrestling.

When I saw the dungeon for the first time that afternoon, Mister didn’t have a lot of time to play with me so I only got a taste of his sadism. He had me stand facing the St. Andrew’s cross and instructed me to raise my arms up, hold them out at a “v” and place my hands on the top of it. I watched out of the corner of my eye as he got a whip off the wall. There was a pause as I stood there naked and terrified. My pussy started to leak. He cracked the whip in the air so loud I jumped and then he began striking it against my back. Before that night, I had been struck by hands and a belt; both delivering what kinky folks call “thuddy pain” rather than “stingy pain”. Often times, submissives and masochists have a preference in type of pain. The whip that afternoon was my first taste of sharp stingy. It would be much, much later that I realized I prefer thuddy, but will eagerly take stingy to please the person hurting me.

I took the pain and after he left to return to work, I admired the red marks in the long mirror in the dungeon, in the bathroom and later, at home.

Some weekend later, I arrived at Mister’s house after a long week at work. He pushed me against the wall in the kitchen and kissed me hard. He told me to make him an apple martini, a drink for myself and to meet him in the dungeon. When I got there, I was trembling. Mister had a very imposing way about him. He was 6’5’’ and as he often said, his skin color (a dark black- but his race did not add to my fear, personally) and bald head did not help. His Fetlife page showed his list of kinks which were heavier than others and within his pictures were images of very bruised women he played with. He would say he was put off by the fact that people thought he was scary, but I think he secretly liked it.

I kneeled in front of Mister where he sat on the futon. I handed him his martini and sipped mine. He had his laptop in front of him and a tripod with a camera on it facing the St. Andrew’s cross. He asked if I was ready and I nodded and took a big gulp of my drink. He told me to stand in front of the cross and he put boxing glove like things on my hands as the broadcast to his cam show started. He lifted my mitt-covered hands straight above me and BDSM call preview 1chained them to a hard point in the ceiling. Then he put a hood over my head and began beating me. He used a baton on my thighs. He had a habit of doing even hits. Four medium-hard hits to my left thigh, two hard ones, three more medium ones and then a whale. He would repeat this on my right thigh. I hated the rhythm of it. I loved the play, but knowing it would end in one extraordinarily hard hit at the end gave me an unpleasant feeling of anticipation that I never ended up shaking in the time I was with him. He beat my breasts with his fists and kicked my cunt with his boot. Then he stood behind me and pushed my face up to his. I liked the feeling of closeness. He started to choke me and after squeezing my throat a few times, I passed out. He must have noticed something because he asked if I was ok. I said, “yes” but found out later that it was the wrong response. He didn’t actually know that he had choked me out and considering I had passed out, I was supposed to say I wasn’t ok. But he didn’t know it at the time, so we continued playing.

He removed the hood and unchained my wrists from the ceiling and pushed me on my belly. He started flogging my back. I love the flogger. Even when it’s incredibly painful, it is my favorite implement. On its own, it probably wouldn’t have caused me to break down, but I was frightened after passing out and after a few more strikes of the flogger, I started crying for the first time in my experience as a bottom and submissive. The play ended then. He gave me a little aftercare- mild snuggling and showed me what the people viewing the cam show were saying in the chat room.

Some weekend later, Mister threw a party. I helped him prep for it and shyly mingled with his guests once things got going. I met a lot of Mister’s friends for the first time that night including a man they called Iron Hands. He was an avid rock climber and his hands had become so tough he earned that name. At some point, I was standing near the basement door when Mister turned to Iron Hands and said, “get her”. Mister grabbed the hair at the back of my head and Iron Hands pushed me to my hands and knees. Mister forced me to crawl down the basement stairs and when I got to the basement, Iron hands started beating me with his hands, sometimes open and sometimes balled up in fists. He beat me for a long time. Sometimes even kicking me. He would ask me questions while he hurt me and my response was always, “I don’t know.” I was so meek in my submissive position, I couldn’t answer him in a more straight forward way. My response always made him laugh before he’d hit me again. After a time, he had me on my belly and he used a chain to hog tie me. Finally, it hit me. This man was in incredibly good shape and he wasn’t going to get worn out before me. I never wanted to call “red” (the universal shout to stop), but I asked him, “Am I going to have to say ‘red’? When will you stop?” and his response was, “I’m not going to run out of energy any time soon.” So I said it and he stopped beating me.

My time with Mister was full of excitement. A lot of parties, a lot of play and devoted service from me. It was relatively short – only three months long, which was as long as my second D/s relationship with Michael (more about that in a future post), but an experience I’ll never forget.

Why I’m not Having a lot of Sex

Since November of last year, I haven’t been having much sex with my boyfriend. This has been one-sided. He seemed to have lost interest and I thought perhaps his sex drive went down because he is approaching 40, which from what I understand happens sometimes with men. A side note, I’ve heard some women get hornier around the time some men start to lose interest, but this hasn’t happened for me yet. I’ve always had a good sex drive and it hasn’t gotten higher or lower. It turns out the reason my boyfriend is losing interest isn’t a mystery to him and it isn’t about his age. He is clear on why he lost interest and he tried to tell me a few months ago, but it didn’t sink in for me until he repeated the reason when we talked last week.

My boyfriend has a dark side, mostly when it comes to his sense of humor. He is also pleasantly open minded. But overall, he is a straight-laced, mostly vanilla sexually (which I don’t mean in a bad way at all as I have no issues with those who hardly stray from the norm, I’m just not one of them) and the kind of guy who always wanted the white picket fence sort of life. I am not that way. I have always been attracted to dark, mysterious, out of the norm kind of things in all aspects of life, but most notably when it comes to sex. Much of my attraction to the odd things in life start and end with learning about these things but when it comes to sex, I actually want to do many of these odd things and when it comes to BDSM, it is a part of who I am.

I have had fantasies about control since I was young. The fantasies became sexual and included pain play when I grew up and became a sexual being. I met my boyfriend when I was 24. A few months before he proposed to me, in 2010, my sister introduced me to Fetlife. I like to call it the kinky Facebook. It’s a social networking site where people can explore BDSM, polyamory and all manner of kink and fetishes. I started reading about what people were doing through Fetlife and continued to do so while I was planning my wedding. I don’t understand or even remember the exact progression of things, but a month before the wedding, things came to a head. I got freaked out about the idea that I felt I might be submissive sexually and romantically and that I might never get to explore it. The feelings of submission, which included a nearly daily session of fantasizing at night to help me fall asleep since I was about five years old, were powerful. It was terrible timing. I didn’t want to break my fiancé’s heart, but I had to do it. I broke off the engagement.

Over the next two years, I did things in the BDSM community including giving myself over to two dominant men (one who was extremely sadistic and the other who was into pain as well, but was more notably interested in exploring the dynamic of a D/s relationship), had a few trysts with other kinky people, met a service submissive with a strong foot fetish who I topped for several months and got involved with some kinky women including my girlfriend, Aubrey. In that time, my boyfriend and I got back together and broke up twice (both times because I decided to explore kink some more) before getting back together and staying together a little over two years after the first break up.

A year into our newest reunion, I told him I’d like to start exploring kink again, but this time with him. This was in November of last year. All I had to do was say it. It was enough for my boyfriend to lose interest in having sex with me. He isn’t withholding as punishment, it’s more organic. He still looks at me and is attracted to me, but he sort of doesn’t feel it, if that makes sense. He knows he likes my big, round ass and breasts. He thinks I’m beautiful. And he’ll smack my butt, squeeze my breasts and pretty much behave in all the ways he used to, except when it comes to sex. He is afraid I’ll leave him because I want to explore BDSM again and it’s because this is the reason I broke up with him the last three times. For whatever reason, this fear is affecting his desire to fuck me.

We are actively looking into ways to fix the issue and we are still having sex, it’s just far less frequent. I am confident we’ll figure this out. My boyfriend and I have been together for twelve years (minus the two years after the engagement ended). We have been through more difficult trials in life individually and as a couple than this. I’m just glad that we’re both clear on the reason our sex life has slowed down. It’s a start. I question whether or not I should post this to my work-related blog, but I have decided I will because, as I’ve said before, I want to be authentic on my blog. This is not very sexy, but it is the truth.