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The story of I
This user is foremost a let-out for my exhibitionistic needs.
I have since January 2009 begun to take my first fragile steps into the world of bdsm. Much like a bambi on ice.
I see this as an important time in my life, where I am learning about bdsm and it's true meaning.
Therefore I have chosen to document this in a diary.
I'm posting it here, partially because i find a pleasure in the exhibitionism,
but also because I'd to receive tips and comments on it.
Last but not least there seems to be many who find my diary to be a source of inspiration.
Some see is as mere pleasurable reading while others find it very educational, and that makes me happy.
I have also received commentaries about the fact that the voice of a submissive is rarely heard.
Therefore it's ever so important for both parts to know how a submissive might experience the world.
This thought drives me, that even if I fail at all that I might try, I wont be doing it in vain.
Because perhaps I might save somebody else from committing those same mistakes.
I still don't know how my diary will come out, since I'm writing it in parallel with my life.
So, therefore I'm looking forward to seeing the continuum and I hope you do to.
I will also write a few short novellas for the library, in both English and Swedish.
Some of them will be more explicable, detailed and delicate versions of my diary entries.
I might end up getting a few friends while writing this diary.
BUT I do not appreciate any sexual invitations what so ever!
I have people to play with, even though I'm not owned by them.
But I'm happy with my life, even though it's some times a rollercoaster ride with ups and downs.
If you're interested in finding sexual partners or learning more about sex and find me or my diary inadequate
I suggest you check out my book-tips in chapter 2.
Have a nice day
/I
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That same old song? -Girls, girls, girls
Written the 28th of January
To all you new readers: This is the 17th part in
my series of diary entries on how I’m evolving into a sub. This story
is written “in the making” so everything is fresh and true. Enjoy the
reading.
This entry shares some of my memories and thoughts on
womanizers. It's also an intro to the following chapters that will dig
deeper into that subject with the help of other writers than myself.
The
recent events have clearly brought back memories of my other meetings.
Like the one with my second Dom, who just as the professor simply sat
by the television and didn't say much. It got me wondering how these
guys work. What do they get out of this numb way of communicating? As I
was thinking, my second Dom's favorite song came to mind "Girls, girls,
girls" by Mötley Crüe. I never liked that song. Perhaps it has some
deeper meaning to it, but I can't see much more than what the lyrics
say. Telling the story of a young man, his bad boy style and need for
girls, girls and more girls. It also mentions that he got his heart
broken once, but then continues the tale of girls whose names he can't
remember. The only memory he has of them are the romance they shared.
I
can understand why that's my second Dom's favorite song. He's very much
the same and is happy living that way. At one moment though, he
mentioned that he did have a "turningpoint" in his lifestyle. When he
began to suffer from impotence he started thinking that perhaps it was
time form him to fuck girls that he actually liked. Before that he had
pretty much fucked anything with a good body. I asked him if he had
ever been in love. He told me that he had, twice, and that it ended in
agony and humiliation for him. I suppose that's why he's so reluctant
to relationships and such. I can understand his fear of having that
pain inflicted upon him again, but I still think he's a coward. After
all, what's a few weeks of agony compared to perhaps years or at least
a few months of happiness in a relationship? I know that kind of
reasoning is very naive and I don't mean that everybody should be in a
relationship all the time either. But perhaps I am naive when it comes
to love. I can confess that I often think of my ex-boyfriends. I think
of what could have been, how angry I still am at them or simply that I
would like to talk to them again. I do this perhaps every day, but I
don't feel much pain when I do. I know that it belongs to the past,
that we're all different people now. Even though my relationships
didn't have happy endings, I still look back at them with a smile.
Because even though some horrible things happened, it made me into what
I am today.
A friend of mine once told me "There's something
special about people that have been abused, raped and such. Some
strange kind of pride and strength that fascinates me" And yes, perhaps
there is some pride in it. The pride of surviving that personal little
piece of hell. To take those memories that resemble nightmares and
learn to face them. I still cry when I think of what happened to me.
When I allow myself to feel the anger and betrayal that once poisoned
my mind. I don't know if I'll ever be able to write about it. Words can
never express what I felt, nor can pictures. A short period after I
broke up with my nightmare, my ex-boyfriend, I drew a picture. It
showed a pair of hands, one peeling the skin of the other, like a
glove. I wrote next to it "I'm peeling you off, like a glove". That was
how close I felt that he was to me. He was in my skin, his thoughts
were in my mind, manipulating every little part me. He used to say
"You're so easy to understand, I can play you like an instrument". When
I tore myself away from him I felt like I was ripping off my own skin.
My heart was left exposed and bleeding in the dead leaves of autumn and
my tears fell in the rain. But autumn turned into winter, and I drifted
away into an unconscious state. Then spring came and melted the ice
from my frozen limbs. I slowly came back to life and by the summer I
was in love again, reborn.
It's perhaps that feeling of rebirth
that drives me. Because when I met my second boyfriend I didn't believe
that I could find somebody as good as my ex-boyfriend. Even though he
was horrible in some ways, he was also the first person that ever
dominated me. Back then I knew very little of Bdsm and I thought that I
might never meet somebody that was compatible with me both sexually and
as a person. I did have friends that were into Bdsm, but they never
stork me as interesting in that sense.
This is perhaps also
one reason of why the resent events have puzzled me so much. I always
thought that the greatest obstacle for me would be to fancy somebody
that was into the same kinks as me. But now I'm encountering something
completely different that might well be expressed as normal
boy-problems. I recently discussed these problems with an old friend of
mine, and we both laughed as we saw that we had the same problems.
There seems to be a syndrome that makes men show interest at first and
then fade away. One might think that it's just as it sounds; just their
interests fading. But we both agreed that there seems to be something
more to it, perhaps that they only do it for the sex. This doesn't come
as a surplice to me, of course, but I never thought that it would be
this strange. Since these guys actually act like they're interested in
more than just sex. We had our guesses that perhaps they feel that they
have to deceive us, but that sounds a bit silly to me. Especially since
we've both been friend with most of the guys that we've had these
problems with.
I started digging deeper into this and turned
once again to a book that I read awhile ago, called the
"Casanova-complex" by Peter Trachtenberg. I described the book very
briefly to a male friend as "A book about Casanova-problems like
compulsory romantics, fear of women, addiction of sex, seeing women as
mere objects and the fear of commitment..." and I was about to add "but
I think it's a bit over the top, since it sounds a bit too psychotic to
fit the regular male", but he interrupted me by saying "Ah, those
things that seem to bother almost every guy". The comment made my jaw
drop. Not only because I was surprised but because the author had
received the same reaction to his book. As he started writing he
thought that he was writing about a small group of people, including
himself. But it then turned out that about 95% of all males seemed to
relate to the problems in the book in some way. Perhaps not to the
point where it kept them from having a normal relationship etc, but
enough to bother them and their everyday life. I might add that nor Mr.
Trachtenberg or I believe that women are free of these problems, but
that they are slightly different and that there is therefore suitable
to divide the groups of compulsory lovers etc into women and men. As I
read the book I did find some resemblance to problems that I've
experienced myself, but that I likewise couldn't express in the way
that a man would, because of today's society.
So, due to the
recent happenings and the content of that book, I'm going to summarize
it in the next chapters. I will also do my best to create a Bdsm view
of the different problems, since we have some special constellations
that can cause a lot of problems. For example I remember when I
questioned my ex-boyfriend and he's ask me "Don't you trust me? If you
love me then you will trust me" and therefore I trusted him. Because
even though I didn't know that I was a sub at the time, I did
definitely enjoy how he would control me almost completely. And perhaps
that is the greatest thief of them all. What happens when an
off-balance Dom gets hold of an insecure sub? I'm actually going to
quote a few of my friends on that point, since they have some stories
to tell on the subject.
To give you a good idea of that the book offers, in case you would like to read it yourself, this is the official review.
"Had
this reformed, self-confessed compulsive womanizer written this as a
memoir of a modern Casanova, he might have knocked our socks off.
Instead, Trachtenberg opts for the overdone
case-history-cum-pontification approach, here based on interviews with
50 bed-hopping males, and, as a sort of afterthought, 30 women prone to
involvements with latter-day Don Juans. When Trachtenberg deals with
his own experiences, in a tantalizing scarce salting of snippets, the
pages are electric. And, fortunately, he writes skillfully even when
pigeonholing his skimpy sampling into minuscule emotional and mental
slots: ""thrill seekers,"" gamesmen,"" ""escape artists,"" ""hunger
artists""; and while further mincing them up into categories that
supposedly describe modus operandi (""hitters,"" ""drifters,""
""romantics,"" ""nesters,"" ""jugglers,"" and ""tomcats,"" each
category introduced with a brief bio of a famous womanizer--Frank
Sinatra is the ""tomcat""). It comes as no surprise that Trachtenberg
regards compulsive womanizing as an addiction, nor that he finds that a
high number of Don Juans grew up in ""dysfunctional families,"" usually
with a vapid, narcissistic mom and an absent or remote pop. A brief,
wondrously evocative chapter on the cultural environment through the
ages that has fostered Casanovas is, alone, worth the price of the
book. In sum: a promising writer rises above his thin material.,
Kirkus Reviews Copyright (c) VNU Business Media, Inc."
Thank you for reading
Have a nice day
/I
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My second meeting with the professor
Written the 16th of January
To all you new readers: This is the 16th part in
my series of diary entries on how I’m evolving into a sub. This story
is written “in the making” so everything is fresh and true. Enjoy the
reading.
This entry is about how it was to meet with the
professor again and to live with him for a few days. It's also about
how he didn't make me cry our of pain, and some other promises that he
didn't keep.
As you may remember I had very high hopes for
these days with the professor. I did at the same time try to keep my
expectations very low, but nothing could have prepared me for this. I
thought this would be a sort of test of whether our relation was simply
as friend that had sex or if we were perhaps falling in love.
When
he came home to me we cuddled, but he was tired and fell asleep on the
sofa. As we fell asleep I stroked his erect penis slightly and he told
me he enjoyed it. Therefore I tried to wake him up mildly by doing the
same thing after a while. But it didn't go as planed, he punished me
for waking him up. He spanked me and made me suck his cock. Even though
I was surprised by the punishment, I was also made rather happy by it.
I was subdued from the very start and he reminded me of this when we
talked afterwards.
After the spanking he fell asleep again,
this time in my bed. I felt a bit let down by him being so tired, but
then again I suppose it's acceptable. He had after all traveled a long
way that day. The thing that really twisted my arm was how much the
spanking had hurt me. It really did hurt from the first blow and I
couldn't control myself as the blows hailed down on me. He had to hold
me down, because I couldn't stay still by my own will. Why was it so? I
had been aroused, I wasn't too scared of him or anything else. Instead
of letting it bother me too much I got up and walked into the living
room to keep myself busy for a while. When I came back to wake him up a
second time he seemed to accept it and we cuddled.
The
cuddling proceeded into petting very fast and I soon found myself wet,
due to him playing with me. I found it rather enjoyable in difference
from other times when similar things has happened. Perhaps I'm relaxed
enough to let him do that to me, to see me moan and squeal in that way.
But as I reached down, I noticed that he was pretty much limb. I tried
to get it up for a while, but then I stopped and took his hand away
from my panties. I looked at him and asked if he was okay. He laughed
softly and asked if I had posed the question due to his lack of
erection. I confessed that I did and added "I just want to know that
you're okay, I don't know what kind of problems you might have". He
seemed amused, or perhaps he was putting on a smile just for the show.
He told me that he enjoyed playing with me this way, but that it wasn't
arousing to him. He also explained that his need of sex had decreased
the last month, but I assumed that was due to the christmasstress.
I
was turned off by the fact that he wasn't enjoying the situation, I
just wanted to satisfy him. Since it didn't seem like I could give him
an erection for the moment I sort of gave up. I tried not to think of
it in ways that could make me nervous. That's very important to me,
since I just as many other girls have a slight history of sexual issues
that has been caused by me being nervous. To take the focus away from
sex I suggested we could put on a movie.
When the it had
ended it was time for me to sleep. I tried not to get nervous by the
fact that he didn't seem sexually interested at that moment. Don't get
me wrong when I write this, but to me it feels natural that a guy is
full of sexual energy in a situation like this. That he would at least
hold me close, play with his hands all over my body and perhaps even
spank me a little. I like that sort of attention very much, the energy
that it builds up and also the self-control that it demands. Since we
can't have sex, but have to keep happy with these cuddly teasing games.
But he didn't do any of those things. I assumed that he was just being
tired.
The next day I woke him up softly with kisses and asked
is he was too tired to give me my morning spanking. He told me he
wasn't and after I snuggled a bit next to him, he forced me to get up
before him to get spanked. It was just as intense and rapid as I had
remembered it to be from the day before, but just as earlier I tried to
ignore it. I mean what else could I do? It wasn't the case of
safewording out because I wasn't panicking. It simply wasn't as
enjoyable as it used to be. After sucking his dick as much as he wished
and after receiving complements for it. I asked him in the passing by
if he was spanking me harder than usual. He told me he didn't think he
was and I told him that perhaps it hurts more because my ass has become
more trim since last time. As we were done with the morningroutine he
asked if I wanted a "quickie" and I said yes after some thought. It had
to be very quick since I had to get to school. I had looked forward to
this moment of first sex, but it felt like nothing. He claimed that the
condom was too small for him, but I doubt that. I was so aroused that I
hardly felt him penetrating me, which insinuates that he's not that
big. The fucking didn't last for long, only a few minutes. I assumed
that we were both stressed by the time and he also claimed that he
didn't feel anything with a condom on. I didn't believe that last part
at all. I think he was slacking off again and afraid to let it show.
I headed off to school and wrote this during the day:
"Oh
god, it's so complicated. I like him, I really do, but this is turning
in such strange ways. On the other hand, it's always strange when you
meet like this. It's after all only the second time we meet. But what
am I supposed to do? I don't want to make him all nervous by taking up
this problem with him. Even though I've always seen him as very
confident, perhaps he isn't at some points. I don't want to hurt him
and I don't want to upset myself to the point where I get real issues
again.
Jesus christ, I wonder what'll happen next when I get
home. I suppose I'll just have to play cool and if nothing gets any
better I'll have to talk to him about this situation. I know it takes a
lot of time to adjust an online-relationship to real life. It's very
abstract and strange for the mind to learn to create the right
associations, but this doesn't seem to be that sort of a problem,
really."
I called him up after school to check on how he was
doing. He was in town with a friend of his. The fact that he sounded so
happy was very relieving to me. We decided to meet up later, since we
both wanted to take a beer with our friends. Later that day we met up
at my place, cooked delicious food, watched some fun 80's movies and
just relaxed. As the hours became late one of my favorite movies, "Pulp
fiction",came on. We watched it with amusement and discussed it. After
that we were too tired to do anything but sleep. I feel asleep feeling
optimistic about the week-end that would follow and our time togeather.
The following day I was free from school and we
began the morning with our routine of some spanking and a blowjob. I
was good enough to make him come and enjoyed his soft moaning as I
licked his dick clean afterwards. Our plan for the day was to head into
town and look for a nice riding crop, have a try at the sales of
underwear and sit in some nice cafés. But as we ate breakfast he got
his eyes on some sports on the television and since I hadn't slept very
well during the night, I fell asleep with my head in his lap. Time
passed as I slept and when I woke up it was just two hours before the
stores would close. I asked him if he still wanted to get into town,
because then we would have to leave now. He told me that he'd rather
watch the sporting event, and just like that our fine day in town
turned into nothing. I thought about this when I laid there, still with
my head in his lap. We would be home the day after as well since there
was a big sports finally that day. I knew that it could get pretty
boring to just hang around at home for two days with somebody you don't
know too well. Especially if that person is interested in watching
sports on the tele and you're not. But, since the stores were near
closing and it was darn cold outside, I didn't bother to raise an
objection. Instead I tried to be an optimist, perhaps things would get
better.
I made the day into my own social experiment. Every now
and then I'd try to cuddle with him in different ways. I'd tease him to
try and get him in a playful mood. But even though he'd correct me
verbally or with his hands, he never did it in a playful sadistic way.
I changed my tactics and tried to make a good conversation. He answered
me politely and well as always, but never chose to continue talking or
to give it any deep thought. I also tried to indulge in the sports by
asking questions about the rules, the sportsmen and other things. I
told him stories about how I used to be amused by my father as he
watched the sports, shouting and jumping like a child.
Now, I
assume that some of you may think that this guy is a sportnut and
therefore can't do much else when there is sport on television. But, I
don't believe that. One can't be that distant for hours and hours,
especially when watching a sport where they do the exact same thing for
a long period of time. Also, he was after all there to meet me and he
knew that the finals would be the day after. Therefore I thought that
if I gave him a nice distraction of seme kind, perhaps he would stop
watching. But he didn't. The fact that he didn't seem to care about me
made me less motivated to be attractive as well. I am normally rather
picky with hairgrowth, make-up and clothes. But for the last days I
would just let all that go. Why be beautiful when he's not even
watching?
He continued to be distant for the whole day and the
day after. He was so obsessed by the finals that he couldn't take ten
minutes of his time to give me my morning spanking. It bothered me, but
I tried to respect the fact that he was excited about the game. I spent
that day watching the tele as well, since it was a lot more exciting
this time. I did other things also, like cooking and fixing things on
my computer. As the finals came to and end I asked if he wanted to do
something else. He told me that a friend of his wanted to see him, but
that he had declined since he thought I wanted him to stay. At that
time I had pretty much given up all thought of having "fun" and asked
him when he had last seen this friend. It had been a long time since
they both met, so I shrugged and told him to go out a few hours. And so
he did.
During those hours I sat by my computer and talked to
friend about the last few days. I asked them for advice and possible
solutions. Most of my friends(male) did however just tell me that they
thought of the whole thing as strange. That he sure wasn't telling me
the whole story since he didn't even cuddle with me, except for the
first hours when we were together.
When he came home again we
soon had to go to bed, since I had to go to school the next day. I had
undressed completely when I decided to get up and check if there was
any lights still on in the apartment. I stood in the bedroom doorway
naked, only lit by the light from the streetlights outside. I've always
been proud of my body and this was my revenge, to show him what he
hadn't taken the time to exploit during his days here, that had now
come to an end.
I felt good as I crept into bed and he gave
me a warm welcome with a big hug, but then he tried to sleep. I smiled
and asked him straight forward why we hadn't had sex yet. He laughed
slightly and told me that he didn't like sex with condoms and that he
didn't want to force me into having sex without a condom. I felt like
arguing, but if that was his final answer then so be it. As a last
revenge I masturbated beside him as he snored. It might have been an
immature move, but it felt good, because I was horny as hell.
I
woke him up the last day and we preformed the morningroutine. I
actually enjoyed the spanking very much this time, I wanted more but
didn't say anything when he stopped. I gave him a good blowjob and then
asked if we could try to have sex with a condom. He smiled or perhaps
grinned and granted me my wish. I enjoyed it, but not for long. He
pulled out after just a minute or so. After that we made our selves
ready and left home. I went to school and he went away to his home
town.
I don't know if I'll ever see him again, it doesn't
feel like that right now. I just feel that I need a guy that can speak
his mind and tell me the truth, and I don't think he's done that. If he
doesn't tell me the whole truth it makes me feel like I'm not worthy of
his trust. And if there is anything I find vital for a relationship to
work, it has to be deep and solid trust.
Thank you for reading
Have a nice day /I
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An old an a new year
Written the 31th of December
At the end of last year I had an exam that
obliged me to hold a speech in whatever fashion. One given topic was
"Something that has been changed, given a second chance ect". Since
Sweden was about to eliminate the mental illness-stamp that Bdsm had
been give earlier, I choose it as my subject. For a while I thought
about telling my class the truth about me. To pretty much put them in
shock by telling them what I've been telling you. But I don't think
that would have been appropriate. Considering the reactions that would
have followed, I would have probably regretted the whole thing. Which
gave me an idea for the intro and the fashion of the speech.
"I
guess one could say that we live in a pretty free world here in Sweden,
today. Since being gay has been okay for about 30 years now, I wouldn't
be too scared to tell 20 of my friends that I've become a lesbian. 15
of them would probably cheer me on and 5 would give me a bit of a funny
or skeptic look. But if I were to tell 20 of my friends that I like it
when my boyfriend wrestles me, holds me down and spanks me. 5 of them
would probably just look at me and 15 would tell me that I need to
leave him NOW and that I need help from a shrink.
Do you agree?" (the comparison was written by Dollie Llama)
My
audience looked stunned and nodded, some of the girls even laughed,
taken by surprise. I laughed ever so slightly and smiled at them, then
continued.
"Well, you're absolutely right, but only until new year!
Because after that there will be no such stamp on people with such
behaviors. And by such behaviors I mean BDSM."
I went on by
explaining in short the meaning of the word. Then explained why it
wasn't a mental illness and why it should therefore be removed from the
register. As a finish, when I felt like I had won the heart of pretty
much everybody, I made a pause and then said.
"So, when you raise
your glass this new years eve. I hope that you'll not only make a toast
for great things to come, but also a toast for all the people who are
no longer declared sick, just because they like a little slap once in a
while". With that I raised my hand as if making a toast and the
audience applaud. I must say that this might be one of my best memories
from school. To feel accepted by my classmates, in a very bizarre way.
But in that moment I really did feel accepted and I was happy.
Afterwards I was told that it was a good speech and a nice change
compared to the speeches about the climate and such. Many seemed
grateful for their new knowledge, since they had never heard of Bdsm
before.
At that new years eve I really did say cheers to us,
the sick people. I looked forward to the future where we might be
accepted. Where Bdsm would be something more than a twisted spice in
the movies and music videos. Or a strange explanation of why some
killers and criminals commit their crimes. I hate the way society has
made us into fiction and tools for amusement. When will we have our own
"Brokeback mountain"? When will we be taken serious and when will
people see us for whom we really are? Soon I hope.
I promised
myself that next year would be "it". Now that I had finally realized
that I was one of "them", the Bdsm-people and that I wanted to learn
more. I wanted to find my place, my role, my home. I've always felt
rather alienated. Some how my instincts were so strong at such an early
age that I always felt different. I know a lot of people say this, not
just Bdsm-people. Perhaps every child feels unique, since that's what
we're brought up to feel. Or maybe, to spin the table around. Maybe I
just think I'm into Bdsm because I want to feel unique? At least that's
what I thought back then.
"We're the middle children of history,
man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression.
Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives.
We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be
millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're
slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off. " -Fight
club (the movie)
And I still do believe that some people in the
Bdsm-world are in it for the attention, more than anything else.
Whether it's the attention you receive by wearing fetishistic clothes
or the attention you get from your lover. I can't say what's right and
wrong yet, perhaps I might never be able to. But at least I'm starting
to understand what's right for me. And if people would just keep an eye
on themselves and not be so god damn busy trying to correct everybody
else, then perhaps this could become a better world.
My
promise for 2009 was to try to find my place, and I do believe that
I've gone pretty far. I'm actually rather impressed with myself as I
look back. A year ago I had pretty much never tried real Bdsm before.
Just a few slaps, a hand around my throat while fucking. But never the
intense feeling that I'm now starting to experience. To balance on a
knifes edge between fear and trust. To simultaneously cry and moan by a
lovers touch, in ways I never thought we possible. I still have a long
way to go, I know. But I'm proud. Because I've worked my way up slowly,
I've been careful and I haven't done any big mistakes. I'm not broken
like so many others out there.
I started the year of 2009 off
by visiting my friend who taught me a bit about Bdsm (I wrote about
that in chapter 3 "Losing my virginity in submission". Speaking of
which: I was spanked with a riding crop, not a horse whip, sorry for
the mistake). The guy who made me cry from the pain of spanking, for
the first and this far only time in my life. The new year of 2010 will
begin in very much the same fashion. But this time it will be the
professor that'll spank me, and probably make me cry as well. Perhaps
he'll guide me further on my path to become a real submissive. One can
never know what the future holds, but I'm pretty sure that it can only
get better, One might faultier a few times, but I don't care. When
you're down, the only way to go is up. If I fall I can only rise again,
because in the long run you ain't getting anywhere by crawling on your
knees. So my promise for this year will be to keep going and to keep
writing. I hope that you will do the same and I wish you the best of
luck.
Happy new year /I
P.s. I just learned how to deepthroat (I've been trying now and then, but always failed) WOHO!
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A little piece on the world
Written the 26th of December
To all you new readers: This is the 15th part in
my series of diary entries on how I’m evolving into a sub. This story
is written “in the making” so everything is fresh and true. Enjoy the
reading.
This entry is more or less a general discussion about the bdsm world, and as usual about my life.
I
don't know if it's the so called Christmas spirit, or just the fact
that i feel more lonely when it's cold outside, but I've almost
forgiven my first Dom. He hasn't taken back his place in my life,
certainly not. But we talk like we used to. The only thing we don't
talk about is sex. I'm not letting him into that part of my life quite
yet. He asked me what i needed to be trained in. My answer was that I
had shifted focus. That training is now the second most important thing
and my primary goal is a secure situation with my partner. I hope he
got the point and that it hurt. Besides that I don't hold much
aggression against him. I'm considering having sex with him again. As I
stated in the previous chapter: Everybody has needs. Though I don't
think I'll ever feel the same respect and devotion as I once did for
him. Perhaps it'll come back, but I doubt it.
I wonder if this
is the great difference between sexual domination and true domination.
A Dom can spank me around, call me a whore and think that he's
dominating me, but it's not until I feel devoted that I truly am
dominated. Perhaps I'm confusing the feeling of domination with love,
but I suppose there could be a connection between the two. Right before
I met the professor for the first time I joked with him, saying "Well
what if I were just to obey you out of love and you didn't have to boss
me around? How horrible wouldn't that be!" (remember that I was very
bitter about my first Doms disappearance) and he said "No, that would
be more than I'd ever expect (in a good way)".
The fact that I
now have the professor to lean against plays a huge part in my reaction
towards my first Dom. Even though the professor is far away and we have
only met once, he feels present and close. I can always talk to him,
even though our conversations can get a bit boring at times. I may well
inform you that he's a sportsnut and I'm quite the contrary. So even if
I like him a lot, I do have a feeling that we have little in common.
But then again that seems to be a very common problem in the world of
minorities. Bdsm is what combines us, but besides that we are totally
different people. One must respect that and appreciate it, even though
it might feel strange at times. Like when I've missed him and then when
I finally get to talk to him, there's nothing to say. Perhaps we can
get past that and perhaps not.
I didn't think too much about our
diversities before. It first became clear to me when I started talking
more and more to the friend that i mentioned in the previous chapter.
Just as with my first Dom, this guy feels like an old friend. I don't
have much to say about the sexual attraction though. There's nothing
wrong with the way he looks. He's tall, slim and rather muscular, with
curious blue eyes and black dyed hair. Which is very attractive
according to my preferences. But his behavior doesn't spark my
interest.
He recently called me up to 'report' that one of his
fuckbuddies accidentally injured him. As she reached her orgasm from
oralsex she dug her nails into his upper arm, which left deep scratch
marks. She was of course embarrassed by this, since she knew nothing of
his unexplored interest in Bdsm. He didn't tell her her after that
incident either, but he confessed to me that he deeply enjoyed the pain.
I
don't think I've mentioned this before, but I have some dominant
tendencies, ergo I'm a switch. I have however never dominated a true
sub, only a guy with some sub tendencies. I loved it at first, until he
told me that he didn't like it that much and that I was being too hard
on him. The experience made me so put off that I pretty much decided to
let go of the whole thing. I have thought about starting again, since I
did like to dominate, though clearly not as much as I like to be
dominated. But as I've had a look around and talked to a couple of sub
or switch guys, I've always found their behavior unattractive. I don't
like it when people lay down flat on their backs and plead for
forgiveness and punishment all at the same time. All I want is to feel
that body tremble as I touch them. To hear fear and excitement in that
person's every breath and tone of voice.
I know it's supposed
to go by the sense of "I'm punishing you because I want to take care of
you and teach you right from wrong", but I can't see my self in that
role. I like sadism and don't dream that much about teaching and
training somebody. The same thing goes for dependence, though I might
add that I in general don't like when people cling to me. I have at
times thought that perhaps I'd like to dominate, only because I'm so
willing to please. I can only assume that it's yet another mystery to
be revealed.
I thought about this as my friend mentioned his
clearly submissive experience. For a while I dreamed a bit of
dominating him and went to see him. We are close friends as I mentioned
before and I don't know if it's just a maturity-thing but I really
appreciate that he hasn't tried to fuck me yet. When I'm staying at his
place we simply lay in each others arms and talk. True to my habits I
always end up playing with his hair. He told me that it made him feel
like a cat. I smiled and remarked that this kitty lacked a neck that
one could grab it by. Instead I grabbed his hair gently and yanked it.
If one would have done this to me, I'd moan by instinct. But he didn't.
I had the same lack of success as I tried to wrestle him. He managed to
subdue me by holding my hands in a tight grip behind my back while
hugging me. But he didn't seem to get much pleasure out of it, not like
a sadist would at least.
I suppose that I'm getting deeper and
deeper into the addiction of Bdsm and that I'm now ruling out people
that don't seem kinky enough. Which can be a rather big mistake, I
think. I mean some people discover their kink later in life and some
act dominant or submissive even though they're not. I believe that
almost everybody has a stroke of kinkiness to them though. Whether it's
a fetish for something as normal as certain looks or a behavior,
perhaps similar to ours. I've often thought of that last one when
watching so called vanilla porn, especially hardcore porn. When the
actors call each other dirty names, wrestle, play games, dress up in
costumes and seduce each other. I see that as references to the
Bdsm-world and vice versa, it's all connected. It's even displayed in
movies over and over again in scenes where two enemies become lovers,
often after some time of mental and physical wrestling. Or just the
general games of seduction that is often spiced by guilt or simply
being naughty and dirty.
I found an article in an old
Cosmopolitan magazine about the secret dreams of women. It's based on
the answers of 1040 Swedish women.
A rocking 19% of all women dream
of being dominated. 15% Dream of having several sexual partners, 13%
think they might be bisexual and listen to this: 10% want to be tied up
and another 10% want to have sex with a total stranger. 3% Are
interested in dominating their partner. 4% Wants to be view and 3%
wants to be taped while having sex. And a 17% group with non-listed
dark dreams.
I don't think I'm taking anybody by surprise when
saying that it's pretty much fashion to be a dirty girl or bad boy. A
submissive needs to be naughty to get punished and most dominants wants
to be scary and evil. According to the professor about 90% of all
dominant men want to be seen as bad boys. Though according to him he
belongs to the remaining 10% of simple good guys. I may confirm this by
saying that he does act a lot nicer than most Doms that I've talked to.
Not in the way that he's smart, funny ect, but in the way that he
doesn't act like a bad-ass. He can give me complements and just be
sweet to me if I've deserved it, much like a vanilla guy would. Though
if I'd do anything against his will, I know that he'd punish me, hard.
It could be something as simple as calling him cute, since he hates
being called that. I've never dared to take it any further and often
back down when he tells me to not say that. Though I often excuse my
self by saying that I'm too horny to be a good girl, and that I miss
his punishments. He often laughs a bit at this, but reminds me that all
those little things will launch back at me when we meet again.
At
first I wasn't too worried about that, since I knew we wouldn't be
seeing each other very soon. But now that it's just a few weeks away,
I'm shivering. It'll be strange to wake up by his side and be under his
control for whole days. A long time ago he said "When ever you wake up
with me, I want you to without any given order, lay down across my lap
so that I can spank you. And when I'm done I want you to blow me". I
wonder if he still remembers that, but I think he does. If not he'll
get a funny surprise the first morning, haha.
I just hope that
I'm not raising my hopes too much by dreaming like this. Since I do
have a habit of losing interest after the second or third time that I
meet with guys; I'm scared that it'll happen again. I hope this will
last, I really do.
Thank you for reading
Have a nice day /I
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Written the 12th of December
The return of my first Dom -Part 2
To all you new readers: This is the 14th part in my series of diary
entries on how I’m evolving into a sub. This story is written “in the
making” so everything is fresh and true. Enjoy the reading.
This entry is continuum on how my first Dom returned to my life and my thoughts on that.
“I: -Hi, have you got the time to talk?
My first Dom: -Hello. Yes I have. How are you?
I:
-I'm fine. I've been wondering why I hang so much with depressed
people. But I suppose that it's just another fetish(just kidding). How
about you?
MfD: -Well, I'm okay. I've been down for a while, if that's what you mean.
I: -Partially, you're not the only person in my surroundings that's depressed.
MfD: -It's a people's disease, hunnie =)
I: -Tss, one should never behave like people.”
We
discussed life for a while and he soon confessed that he had been
burying himself in his work, again. Now don't get me wrong; I like
people who work. But when they repeatedly overwork them selves... I
find them rather stupid. He pretty much brings himself into a
depression every time he does so. Or perhaps he overworks due to his
depression? Who knows? Either way it's no good. He tried to excuse
himself and told me that this time would be different, but I
contradicted him. "You said that last time too" I simply said for every
new excuse he posed for me. The fact that it was true seemed to bring
him down, but he still wanted to make promises. Which is quite amusing
since he used to say "I never make promises". Have you lost your grip?
I
finally asked him "So, did you think I'd be all cool with you
disappearing again?" and he said "I didn't plan to disappear. I just
disconnected myself from everything that I didn't have to do. It's a
fragile defense, I know. Did you have a hard time?" I grinned at the
answer, it seemed pathetic and I simply told him that he'd been
confusing me. I tried to explain the mixed message of him promising to
be there for me and then disappearing. He told me that he understood
and confessed that he should have talked to me earlier. We then moved
on by talking about his so called depression. He’d apparently tried to
fight it off with everything from religion to alcohol, medicine,
relationships and now by being a work-o-holic. The whole conversation
left a bad taste in my mouth that I couldn't get rid off. I know how it
is to be depressed, more or less, I've had my times. I've also been
close with people who have been depressed. I told him this and he
seemed to believe me. He confessed that he really should learn to talk
to people about his problems, but yet he never told me anything more
about them. It made me tired of trying to reach out to him. I did how
ever remind myself of the fact that this behavior isn't unique: many
people are like this. So perhaps I shouldn't be surprised. I'm trying
not to be disappointed, but I think I am.
I ended the discussion
with the question "Why did you contact me again?" The answer resulted
in even more excuses. He told me that he still wanted to be my friend,
if I wanted him back. He also said "I hope it doesn't always have to be
this way". I agreed and told him."You're the only one who can decide
that. It’s up to you. I don't want to be angry with you. I want to be
your friend. I want to be able to trust you and for you to trust me". I
said and he told me that he did indeed trust me. To which I replied "If
you trust me, you should be able to talk to me. So no more mild words,
just the truth, okay?" He agreed and we said our goodbyes.
We
talked a few days later, rather casually. It was neutral, with a sense
of betrayal, for me. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with him. I
talked to a friend about this earlier, though more as a theory than a
real situation. The situation where you have somebody who's simply
"okay", but who probably for one reason or another wont become more
than okay. It could be a friend, a sexual acquaintance. , co-worker
ect. That somebody whom you are dependent on, but who you could also
kick out of your life without too much fuss. The dilemma where you
could either have them on the side as a snack and keep looking for
something better. Or kick them out and be lonely, but keep looking,
probably with more energy, hunger and urge. Dating-books and similar
things often say that one should have an unserious acquaintance, while
looking for something better, to simply keep yourself from becoming
desperate. I think that’s logical but also selfish and perhaps weak. Do
we have to become starved just because we can’t get what we want? How
childish.
It's complicated since none is better than the other.
People are scared of being lonely, and hey half-good sex is better than
no sex at all, right? But at the same time it feels weak to me. I do
however get a bit pissed by the fact that when a guy "keeps a girl
around" he's just being cool and macho. But when a girl does what is in
principle the same thing, she's being weak, because she’s not strong
enough to dump him. Or at least that’s what people interpret it as. It
seems to me that it's the same thing as that when a guy has several
sexual partners he's a player or simply macho. But when a girl has
several sexual partners she's a whore who’s sold her body. What's so
wrong with a girl that likes to take large bites out of the cookie? I
mean I thought society had grown out of that old religious crap with
the sins of the female gender, but obviously it isn't so.
I feel
miserable when I forgive people whom should be kicked or some how
punished for their bad behavior. Some of you may say that I'm being too
hard on him. And yes, perhaps I am, but then again, do I really need
him? The answer is No, I don't need him and I have no need of forgiving
him. I do how ever have a need of sex, and friends, and for now he's
the best guy that I got, who lives close to me. I could find somebody
better but I'm not totally up for going thru the whole
dating/get-to-know-process again. Plus, I have my professor and he's
really my main goal. I don't want any distractions from him. Even
though he lives far away from me and that increases the risk of us
drifting apart. Not to mention the fact that we're not together or
anything like that. We like each other a lot and work well sexually,
and that's enough for me right now. Aim low and shoot hard, you know
;). I've tried to judge if I want to fall in love or not. But I'm not
sure. I'm quite sick of the way girls (and guys also some times) are
mad about falling in love. They love because they want to love, not
because they actually love the person in particular. Love to me, is a
drug, a very nice drug. But I do not want to be addicted to a person
that can't handle me or that simply doesn't deserve a good girl.
Because when I fall in love, it's like I lose my consciousness... So
for me love sure is like falling and hitting something hard, and drift
away into lala-land.
For those of you who recognize the things
I've discussed today: To be scared of separating from others due to
your dependence, or to not be able to separate from somebody because
they’re depending on you more than they should. I can recommend yet
another book by Michael W. Dean called “A User's Manual for the Human
Experience”. I know I talk about him a lot, but I really do like his
writings. I’ve started to listen to the book as a free audiobook and
love it. It handles different kinds of dependence and addiction, both
to people and to substances. Just as well as the sort of people that
tend to drain you dry of your happy thoughts and energy. People who
just can't be happy for others and so on. You might think that it's a
bit odd to put them in a book about addiction. But people often get
into addictions because they feel bad, often due to their surroundings.
I
don’t like the fact that I easily become dependant of people. I fall
for them before I know who they are and that can be darn dangerous some
times. The book also handles how one should tackle people who get too
dependent on you, who mistreat you, co-dependence and so on. How to
leave somebody with love and realize when to leave somebody and why.
I’m gonna listen some more to that book I think, and see if it gives me
any good tips to solve this mystery.
Thank you for reading.
Have a nice day/I
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Written the 28th of November
The return of my first Dom
To all you new readers: This is the 14th part in my series of diary
entries on how I’m evolving into a sub. This story is written “in the
making” so everything is fresh and true. Enjoy the reading.
This entry is about my first Dom's return to my life and my thoughts on that.
This
has been a remarkable set of 24 hours. Yesterday I found out that one
of my new but close friends have an interest in bdsm. The discovery
filled me with curiosity and hope. That I now have a good friend so
close at hand to share my thoughts and perhaps even lust with. I did of
course feel a stroke of guilt towards the professor, but then again, he
doesn’t own me and time has shown me that even the most promising
scenarios can go wrong. To feel that I had somebody to talk to that
lives close to me also reminded me of how few people I know that are
like that. I moved during the summer and have filled my life with work
and school since then. There hasn’t been much time for friends of love
and it’s starting to take its toll on me.
Then as if that day
wasn’t eventful enough, something else happened. A few hours later my
first Dom came online, for the first time in months. For a while I
thought about if I should talk to him at all. I had the status of
offline so I could go unnoticed by him. It didn’t take long for me to
make my decision though, because I had one single question that had
haunted me. I had discussed the situation of my first Dom with two
close friends of mine. They both implied that perhaps he had somebody
else on the side. Or rather, that I was the girl on the side; his
getaway when the other one wasn’t fun enough and vice versa. One of my
friends did however give an alternative view of the situation. He said
“Maybe he’s manic-depressive(bipolar), don’t just think about your self
here”. The theory got me thinking, and I couldn’t let go of it. My
first Dom had often been sad without apparent reason. He often felt
distant and tended to disappear from time to time. His earlier
disappearances were however often excused as school or work. Therefore
I said hello and cut right to the chase, skipping to answer all his
questions of' “how have you been” and other familiar questions.
I
simply asked him “Are you manic-depressive?” and he said “Not so much
of the manic kind”. I couldn’t tell if he was taking me seriously or
not, and it pissed me off. As he apologized for his absence I replied
“Stop apologizing and take some responsibility for your actions”. He
seemed hurt and with a need of justifying him self he said “I’m sorry,
but I have been feeling really bad lately. It comes in periods and it's
always been like this for me”. I felt confused and hurt. If he had been
feeling bad, why hadn’t he come to me for comfort? Or he could at least
have told me about his bad period, instead of just vanishing into thin
air. Also the excuse felt silly and I got even madder as he asked if I
wanted his new cellphone number. How could he be so sure that I wanted
to call or see him again? I mean sure, this wouldn’t be the first time
that I would forgive him, but that he had the guts to assume it pissed
me off. I simply told him that we needed to talk and made him promise
me that we would do so, without him disappearing again.
I guess
you must find me pretty silly by now. One of my close friends had
specifically told me never to talk to my first Dom ever again. When a
person has committed a crime or similar action they have proven that
they are capable of doing it, which means that they might do it again.
He told me that one should forgive but never forget. I agree with him
to some extent. I want to believe that everybody can change. But it
only takes one look at me and those around me to know that it isn’t so.
People can change by changing their conscience or their self beliefs,
but not the way they act by instinct. Even if he speaks the truth about
him being depressed, he can’t justify that he didn’t tell me about it
before or during his absence.
I can’t dismiss him however,
simply because I can relate to him. I can get into periods of slight
depression, during which I’m horribly bad at communicating with others.
I do however often manage to warn those around me, but I might miss
warning one or two people. His outlooks aren’t that good though,
considering the fact that he’s disappeared and forgotten to warn me at
least twice. So where does this leave me? I do still feel some sympathy
and loyalty towards him, which perhaps is stupid of me. But then again
he was my first Dom and that something special, at least to a hopeless
romantic like me. And I suppose that’s why it’s called a hopeless
romantic.
As I went home that day, I was reminded of how
incredibly stupid most people are. Perhaps it’s wise to keep track of
the very few that I actually like and respect. I used to say that one
should stay in touch with ones exes since they were once good enough to
love and the world is simply too tragic to live in without such lovely
people. Now I may add that I have broken all contact with one of my two
exes, since he mentally and sexually abused me. I don’t think anybody
can be forgiven for doing that.
But my first Dom has been rather
nice to me. Perhaps his disappearances aren’t that bad when opposed to
how nice he’s been to me. At least it’s enough for me to hear him out.
Perhaps he’ll say something interesting and win me back, but I doubt
it. Maybe ill keep him as a friend. Though it feels tragic to forgive
somebody over and over again, does he really deserve it?
Some of
you may think that all of this sounds weird, that my anger seems sprung
out of nothing. Then to make things clear I can tell you that my first
Dom always told me that I could trust him, no matter what. It seems to
be very important to him, and that’s why this is so confusing. I may
also add that I’m a very dependant person, when I finally come to like
somebody. So to gain my trust and then leave me in solitude…it’s not a
good idea. It’s a bit like buying a puppy and then leaving it alone in
your pretty home. And I can say that it sure feels like I’ve chewed on
quite a few shoes when trying to figure out what the hell’s going on.
So, I suppose that’s why I’m giving him this chance to explain himself.
Hopefully he’ll speak the truth, because it’s the best even though it
hurts some times. At least that’s what I’ll ask him to do.
Thank you for reading
Have a nice day /I
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Written the 26th of October
The first meeting with the professor - Day two and tree
To all you new readers: This is the 13th part in my series of diary
entries on how I’m evolving into a sub. This story is written “in the
making” so everything is fresh and true. Enjoy the reading.
This entry is a continuum of the former one; with day two and three with The professor.
”Every
time I think of what is about to occur my stomach twitches, lightly
aching. I want the sweet touches and the pain, oh god the pain. It’s
less than a hour away and I have goose bombs. I just hope I won’t be
too tired or affected by my pms. But still, I’m so excited. Perhaps a
little bit in love with the way he touches me. He reminds me of my
first boyfriend, for better and for worse.”
We took a little
walk in the old working-class neighborhood before entering his
apartment. The apartment was rather charming, bearing marks from the
residents’ music taste of metal and rock. A poster in his room caught
my eye. It looked like a typical sunset and I grinned at how cheesy it
was. As I glanced down I saw a title "Apocalypse now" (a very
remarkable movie that everybody should see), I was stunned. He stepped
up beside me with a little smile and said "I've always loved that one.
First you think it’s only a sunset, but then you see that there aren't
birds flying in front of the sun but choppers. Heading out to kill.”
After
a while I asked if he wanted me to change clothes. He said yes, but I
misunderstood his word, thinking that he added that I could do so in
front of him, if I wanted to. The request that I thought he made was
rather scary to me. I declined with insecurity and changed in the
bathroom instead. With the intentions of looking like a schoolgirl, I
had my hair in two braids, a checkered skirt, white knee-high
stockings, a white shirt and a tie. Underneath I wore black feminine
underwear. I had also thought about bringing a big lollipop since I
recently was given one.I didn't however, for practical reasons.
As
I stepped into his room I asked what the thought of the outfit.
Wonderful, he said and waved for me to sit down beside him in the sofa.
He then told me to lie down over his knees. I had earlier said as a
joke that he would have to put up a fight before he would get me into
submission. And yet there I was, stretched out before him. We were both
surprised by this sudden surrender from my side. I suppose that I was
too scared to do anything but obey, and perhaps it was wise of me to do
so. He spanked me rapidly, with no pauses for me to relax. All I could
do was bite down and try not to scream, since I had gotten rather
unused to proper spanking. After a while he asked me if I felt
comfortable. I was enjoying the moment and told him yes. He seemed a
bit put off by this and told me “Well that's no good, this should be
done properly. Stand up.” I misunderstood and simply stood up on all
four in front of him. He repeated his demand with slight annoyance and
I excused my self while standing up before him. He looked at me;
stroking my skirt down he told me to go and get a chair to place before
him. I did so and he sat down on it. He looked at me and then pulled me
down onto his lap faster and rougher than I had expected. I landed on
my stomach in his lap with a sigh, almost losing my breath. Then the
spanking began once more and I squealed. The intense slapping had a
fast way of getting to me compared to what I was used to. I held on to
the chair with my hands almost wondering what we were doing. I was no
longer enjoying the pain, but enjoying the enforcement of it. A for me
more complicated sort of pleasure that I had barely experienced before.
He
started to take breaks from the spanking after a while. He stroked my
red cheeks gently, some times grabbing them. The pauses had a strange
effect on me. I never managed to judge whether I wanted him to stop
completely or to continue spanking me. It was all very bittersweet, how
he some times played with his fingertips on my sore buttcheeks, making
me wait and wonder what would come next.
He told me to stand up
and hold my skirt up in the front while fetching a few things. I did,
but lowered my hands a little bit, hiding under the skirt once more. He
noticed this and slapped me in the face, then told me to do as I was
told. I barely heard his words though. I had never been slapped like
that before and was shocked by it. Some how my world had been shaken
just a little bit and when I returned to our reality it seemed
different. It was beautiful and fragile, that's how the slap made me
feel. I must have looked rather funny as I stood there, shocked like a
deer in a cars headlights.
He told me to get down on my knees
while he unbuttoned his pants. Looking down at me he asked me if I knew
what to do. I said “Blow you?” he answered “Yes, do it”. I started as
usual but got a slap in the face immediately. “Did I tell you could use
your hands?" He said and I excused my self, telling him I hadn't
thought about that. Later I got to try blow him while be both stood,
and I was bent over. As he told me to stop I straightened up, only to
get yet another slap in the face. “Did I tell you to straighten up?” He
said and I said no in agreement. Sitting down again he asked me if I
was any better when I used my hands and my mouth when blowing. I told
him that it was for him to decide, but that I thought so. We gave it a
try and he confirmed it. Later on as he gave me an order to give him a
blowjob I only used my mouth, since I earlier had been slapped for
using my hands. He slapped me this time as well however. “Don't you
want to do what's best for me?” He asked me and I said yes, but was
very confused. He filled in the blanks by saying “Didn't we just agree
on that you're better when you use your hands?” I said yes, ashamed but
also amused. His reactions might seem a bit too tricky for some, but to
me it was very charming and arousing. The slaps made my world twirl,
his sneaky and self secure way was indeed intriguing to me. He made me
respect and fear him, while I felt completely safe.
As I started
to feel more and more secure I tried to revive some of that power
struggle that I had promised earlier. As he was standing above me,
trying to separate my legs I disobeyed by not opening them. As soon as
he realized this he was over me, slapping my face once more ordering me
never to do that again. I squirmed and said that I just wanted to play.
Reminding him that he had told me he liked such things. He agreed but
still thought that I needed to be taught a lesson. Therefore he threw
me over the sofas armrest and spanked me. He complained about how he
thought I would have learned what to do by now. My ass was getting very
sore at this point and I had a hard time trying not to scream. After
removing my panties he threw them at me and they landed beside my head
and neck. He pulled me down from the sofa so that I stood on my knees
before him. With easy hands he removed the rest of my clothes. As he
unbuttoned my shirt he noticed the black satin bow on my bra and asked
me “Are you my present?”. Since I do believe that submission is a gift
I agreed with a smile. He seemed content, though I could hardly tell if
he smiled or not since I was looking down on the floor. I could see his
feet as he moved away to get something and then hear as he walked
around me. His hands lifted me up to the sofa again. He attempted to
penetrate me, but I did however tell him that I won’t have sex without
a condom. After that he blindfolded me and placed me on the floor while
saying “Well, I don’t need a condom to pleasure my self with your mouth
now, do I?”. I agreed and he pushed me down on all four, leading me
forward. He stepped in front of me and started calling to me, moving
little by little as he called. I followed and after a while I bumped
into him, I felt his cock along the side of my face. I smiled a bit,
did my best doing just as I had been taught earlier and finally
received his cum in my mouth.
We were both very happy and
retreated to the sofa where I cuddled up in his lap without my
blindfold. He seemed proud of me and I couldn’t feel better my self. We
talked about it all and I asked how “hard” he had been on me. He smiled
and told me that things wouldn’t get too complicated, but there would
simply me more of everything. Apparently this was just a kid compared
to what awaited me. The talking did of course remind me of the fact
that I hadn’t had the opportunity of an orgasm yet. I quietly asked him
if he was too tired and he seemed amused, telling me that I sure
deserved to come. He did however want his little schoolgirl back. So I
got dressed and he looked at me and said “If anybody saw you now, they
could never imagine what you just did here with me”. I smiled, since I
had always loved that paradox, that our fashion of pain doesn’t show,
that we’re always living a double life.
He agreed on having
some rapeplay with me, since I asked for it and we both love it. The
wrestling was intense and I was surprised by how good he was. I pretty
much never felt like I had a chance of wrestling him down. He even
managed to hold me down while unbuttoning my shirt, which I find very
impressive. We didn’t have sex however, since one orgasm is some times
enough for one night, when you’re a guy. I wasn’t too sad however and
he didn’t seem very embarrassed by it either. He even offered to
satisfy me in other ways, but I declined, remembering how strange it
had felt the last time a Dom tried that on me. Instead we cuddled till
my time was up and I had to go. I did however leave some clothes
behind; a honest accident. So we met the day after, right before I went
away to my hometown, with great intentions of returning.
Thank you for reading
Have a nice day /I
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Written the 26th of October
The first meeting with the professor - Day one
To all you new readers: This is the 12th part in my series of diary
entries on how I’m evolving into a sub. This story is written “in the
making” so everything is fresh and true. Enjoy the reading.
This
chapter is about how it was to meet the professor that I presented to
you in the previous diary entry. We met for tree days, this section is
about day one.
Here are a few quick notes that I wrote during
the day when I met with the professor. I have however added a few
things afterwards. That’s why there are some quotations; they’re my
notes.
Moments before meeting him I wrote:
“What I feel right
now is like something rigid and unimportant. Though actually, what I
feel is very important. Because it will play a large part in the
outcome of tonight. It also depends on him, of course, but me as well.
Bad company is never good company and vice versa. I suppose that the
first impression will say a lot. Seeing me writing like this on my
cellphone might be seen as nonchalance. But I’m too shy to look for him
in the crowd. I do look around some times, but do I even want to see
him? Of course I do, but I’m scared. What if it all goes wrong? Going
here made me sick to my stomach, I don’t want to be disappointed again.
But as I said, it’s partially up to me. I’m nervous, but my nerves may
amuse him. He knows I’ll be nervous and said he’d be amused. So perhaps
it's a win-win situation. Ah well, time is running short. Any minute
now I’ll see him, unless he’s late. I just heard an old man do a funny
walk due to his handicap and almost thought it was the professor,
claiming my attention. Perhaps he would be crazy enough to do such a
thing, but then again maybe not on a first date. I should go now, pray
for me, please.”
Seconds later I got a text message, he was late
and wanted me to meet him at the station. This did of course give me a
feeling of déjà vú, but I tried to avoid the thought. Remembering that
my view of him shouldn’t be changed before I even met him. So I went to
the station, nervous but reserved.
“Hello dear reader today has
been a great day. I met with the professor today. It felt strange at
first, but perhaps it always does when meeting like this. He was very
correct some how, but calling it robotlike perfection would be a foul
way to put it. Maybe I should call him proper, somewhat like a
gentleman or a military man. Everything about him was so correct that
it almost felt like an act. But then again I was nervous and perhaps he
was as well, and it created this strange atmosphere.”
“As I met
him I almost felt like passing him by. Not because he was ugly or
anything, but because I didn’t feel anything when I first saw him. But
what did I expect? My brain can’t put his mental and physical being
together quite yet I think. As the day proceeded it went better
however. We talked a lot. Sometimes it felt like we were just filling
out the space, but his answers felt honest and I did listen with
interest.”
We were doing more things than just filling the air
with simple words. I did however act quite silly some times. Probably
because I was nervous, but also because I find it so very intriguing to
tease these so called Doms. To get corrected or just a harsh glance is
more than enough to make me chipper and giggle inside. Though on the
outside I’d rather look shy and excuse my self, or perhaps smile and
keep going to push him even further. I think he liked this quite a lot,
since we both do agree about the fact that punishment should be based
on something and therefore subs shouldn’t be simply good girls. To be
more exact they should be quite dirty and naughty.
“We walked a
lot and sat down after a great while. He had his arm around me and
stroked my cheek with his hand. As I bit his fingers playfully he
grasped my face and pushed it tightly against his chest. This kept me
from moving, biting or even speaking. All I could do was endure and
feel his caressing of my cheek with his hand. When he finally let go I
bit him again and the whole thing was repeated. As I said earlier, I
love pushing these things further and further. He then had enough and
grabbed me by the hair, which made me gasp and squeal out of pain and
pleasure. Pulling my hair and holding it tightly he turned my face
towards. Earlier I had been avoiding his hard gaze. I tried to keep on
doing this even when he forced me to face him. He came close and teased
me with his lips so close to mine that they were barely touching. Then
he gave me a big kiss and it felt passionate and emotional.”
After
a while he pulled me up onto his lap and we kept kissing, teasing and
hugging. He slipped his hands underneath my shirt and jacket. Putting
his cold hands on the bare skin of my hips made me jump and as I
couldn’t get away I squealed a little. He did this a few times. Taking
his hands out to let them cool off. While I thought that the warmth of
my skin could feel safe again. Then he'd slip his hands in again,
placing them on my hips once more, making me involuntarily jump from
the cold. This almost annoyed me, since I couldn’t stop the reaction,
even when I knew what he was about to do. As you might understand I had
a got a little feeling of helplessness out of this. I then got to rest
from this, while he looked out over the emptying streets. I asked him
“Do you see anything interesting?” and he said no. “Really?” I said,
since I do find cities very interesting. He then looked down at me and
smiled “Only when I look at you.”, I smiled and kissed him.
As
we enjoyed ourselves, each others company and the busy street life. I
had of course lost the feeling of simple nothingness. I dared a little
by feeling that I liked him and that I was willing to trust him. This
feeling didn't come all a sudden of course. It had grown in side of me
since we first met. Meeting like this was very nice indeed and I felt
both satisfied and a little bit sad as I had to go to the place where I
was supposed to sleep. I played with the thought of asking if I could
stay with him over night. But it felt inappropriate to ask of such a
favor, as well as a bit ungrateful towards the ones that had offered me
a bed already. Plus, I knew we were supposed to meet the following day
to play, and I had some preparations to do before that. Therefore we
started walking back to the station, even though he was pretty close to
his home. Since we could no longer warm one another with our bodies we
started to feel the cold weather. We then sat in the station for quite
a while, cuddling while waiting for my bus. I curled up beside him on a
bench with my head in his lap. He stroked my hair with one hand while
playing with the other on the bare skin of my hip. In the cover of my
long hair and face I played with my fingers over his inner thigh. As
time grew near I sat up beside him and said “So, are you feeling a
little bit sexually frustrated?”. He sighed with a smile and said “How
about a lot?”. Then we kissed and said our goodbyes.
“I loved the way we must have looked like a couple. I can’t wait till tomorrow!”
To be continued…
Thank you for reading /I
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Written the 18th of October
A dream approaching - The schoolgirl and The ProfessorLife moves on, here's yet another message about
men, sex, expectations and so on. But this time, perhaps not about
disappointment. -The future is yet to be revealed.
Let me
introduce you to a man that goes by the nickname The Professor ( not
literary, but it's a Swedish similar to that title). He claims that he
has that nickname souly because of his degree of studies. But I may
very well say that it might be because he loves to correct others and
teach them things. In my case it's spellcorrections and general
behavior that's the hot topic, so perhaps my spelling will get
increasingly better in a near by future.
I've know this man
for almost a year, but only by text on a website such as this. He's a
great guy but for some reason we never saw each other as a perfect
match for sex. Maybe because we never talked about sex, until recently.
A rather unlikely happening in a place such as this, don't you think?
As I left my two Doms behind I actually thought of this. How abstract
our look at "the other one" is, when we meet in a place like this. Most
people talk about sex primary to other topics. Some times it's even the
only thing they seem capable of talking about, such as the case of my
second Dom.
So, why didn't we discuss sex? He was actually
the first person that I wrote to on a kinky website. Therefore I had
yet to learn the lingo and didn't know how to speak of it. Amusingly
enough I even made a huge error when writing to him for the first time.
His profile stated that he wasn't a fetish person and that he wouldn't
like to visit such events. He likes to keep the dirty stuff in his
bedroom and he's rather old fashioned, so no latex etc allowed. His
profile did in general state that he was a picky man with a high
intellect. A statement that I couldn't resist the challenge of
investigating. As I was also very new to this world I found it soothing
to know that he was besides the sex a regular guy. Therefore I though
of starting my letter with "Hi, I'm glad that I found somebody who's
not so super kinky" but... I forgot the "not". Instead I wrote "Hi, I'm
that that I found somebody who's so super kinky.". A fatal error
according to some, but he seemed amused by it and corrected me with a
laugh. And perhaps it was a great presentation to little clumsy me.
Because I am indeed clumsy, though never in a dangerous way. I never
forget to switch off the oven ect, but I can forget to put on my
panties correctly.
Since then we've talked a little now and
then during the elapse of a year. The letters have always been long,
concerning topics like society and moral. Neither one of us likes our
society that much, it's filthy to say the least. We're also very tired
of people that aren't honest and true to what everybody considers to be
good behavior. I've never seen the good side of lies, they only
complicate things. Especially when it comes to dating and
relationships. If you love somebody, your primary goal should be to
communicate in total honesty with that someone. How can trust ever be
built up if it is built on lies? I could go on and on about this, but
I'm pretty sure that you know what I mean. My friend, The Professor
agreed with me as I recently ranted about that subject in one of our
conversations. As I ranted on I actually stunned him and he told me
"I've never heard a girl say that before, but I totally agree." and by
saying that, a spark was lit. To hear that somebody else lusted and
cried as I did, it released me in some ways. It is often said that
people have a nag for falling in love when they're facing a crisis or
similar. I believe that's a pretty accurate thing to say and it suits
the example of me very well. I felt betrayed, sad and angry, and all of
a sudden he became my guardian angel. The person that could keep my
heart safe from harm and keep it warm for me when all I wanted was to
let it grow cold.
From that moment we worked up an affection
pretty fast. All those things that we never discussed rushed by in an
instance and I was amazed by how similar we were. We talked about
everyday events and how we longed for them. To wake up beside somebody
we love, cuddle, spank and get dressed togeatger. I've always had a
thing for letting my lovers choose my clothes, like a little
dress-up-doll. His absolute favorite "game" was rape-play and I believe
that it is mine as well. We both like old school things, everything
from clothing to music to titles. Because of his title The Professor
and my love for schooluniforms, I got the nickname schoolgirl. As I
would log on every day in my breaks from school he would always say
"Hey, how's my schoolgirl doing?" and it made me so happy. His harsh
way with my rebellions against him also made me shiver and shimmer. The
spellingcorrections even went so far as to him saving all my
misspellings in a document. Since we both love the movie "The
secretary" the idea of punishing me for my spellingerrors wasn't far
away. For you who haven't seen it, I can tell you that a girl gets
punished when ever she makes mistakes in her job as a secretary. The
scene where she's forced to read a letter she wrote out loud, while
getting spanked on every error, is specifically delicate.
We
sat a date to meet, first for coffee and if we felt like it we would
proceed the day after with some playing. And that's how far we've come
actually. The story has made an halt due to the slow passing of time. I
will meet him so soon that the very thought gives me goosebombs. I
don't care if he looks as good as he does in the pictures. I don't even
care if our conversations will be as sparkling as they usually are. All
I want is for him to exist, for everything he's told me to be true.
If
you think we're moving forward pretty fast, you're right. But we're
both consious of the fact that we can be hopeless romantics some times.
It's a drug to us, but we use it with caution. One day when I wasn't in
such a fine mood I said "Maybe we're just fooling our selves..?" and he
replied "We'll soon find out." . Yes indeed, it wont be long until I'm
in his perhaps loving firm arms, dressed as a schoolgirl. The thought
doesn't seem impossible, but my vague hope does keep me from believing
it fully. Perhaps that's sad, but I can't keep my self from this sort
of selfprotection. And, since I am indeed a hopeless romantic, it will
probably melt away when we meet, if everything feels alright.
So, let's hope it's not just a dream, let's hope it will soon become reality. Today.
Thank you for reading
Have a nice day /I
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Written the 14th of October
The bad news - Soar
To all you new readers: This is the eleventh part
in my series of diary entries on how I’m evolving into a sub. This
story is written “in the making” so everything is fresh and true. Enjoy
the reading.
This chapter stays within the same fashion of the
previous. Though this time it's about how things went wrong with my
first Dom and some other things as well.
The short comings of my
second Dom made me throw a glance back at my first Dom. As I was
obliged to let him proofread my writings about him in this diary, I got
in touch with him once more. We hadn’t talked for a while and it felt
strange to hear from him again. All I had done was to send him an email
with the text and a quick reminder that I still existed. The response
was perhaps as expected a rather excited one. The texts had refreshed
his memory of our time together as well as the memory of me. He
contacted me rather urgently, telling me that he thought the texts were
“lovely” and that he wanted to see me again. He also apologized for
being so absent, saying that his only part in my life lately must have
been as an absence. We talked for a while and at first I was reserved
and cold, but the excitement soon rushed over me. I had missed him and
I was sick of the boring sex that I had endured lately. So, when he a
few days later, in the middle of the night asked me “Do you want to
come over?” I said yes. I threw my self on my bicycle, not even giving
my self time to put on make-up or any cute clothes and then rushed thru
the streets. I had warned him that I wouldn’t be dressed up and he
granted me this. He calmly told me that I shouldn’t be scared of him in
that manner. That I should always feel welcome, no matter how I looked
and that I could always put my trust in him.
Meeting him seemed
strange, like waking up too early in the morning, wondering where the
sun had gone. When I met him I was still reserved but at the same time
very curious. Maybe this time would be just as great as the other one,
even though that was pretty tame. It turned out to be both better and
worse than the last time. The first time we met there was a clear spark
and most of the pleasure was emotional and mental, not sexual. This
time we were almost strangers to each other and the pleasure seemed to
shift more and more towards the sexual kind. It wasn’t that pleasurable
how ever, for reasons that can hardly be explained in words. I missed
the spark, but tried look past that to create a new one instead.
However everything seemed tame as he dominated me and he almost seemed
unsure of what to do with me. Since I hadn’t shaved in a while, he took
the time to shave me. I hadn’t experienced this before, but to my
disappointment the experience left me feeling nothing. I didn’t feel
subdued or scared, hell I didn’t feel like I respected him at all some
times. Almost like I didn’t want to respect him. Like I was obedient
because I made my self that way. I suppose that we were rather tired,
since it was late at night. That fact might have dulled my experience a
lot. Perhaps my greatest memory of that night was sleeping in his arms.
Every time I moved he would wake up and hug me or look at me and smile.
It was wonderful and I never wanted the sun to rise.
When
morning came I hadn’t slept much, and chose to be a few hours late for
class. It wasn’t an important class to go to, but he spanked me for
being late anyway. It made me happy and I very much enjoyed being
lectured about the importance of repetitions, since the class was just
a repetition. When I finally made my self ready to go to school, he
pulled me down into his bed. Lying behind me with his arms around me he
said “I changed my mind, you can’t go.” and I smiled. I did however
leave of course. But I suckled on those sweet words for a great while.
As well as the memory of when he had asked me if I ever wanted to be
owned. I told him that yes; I would like to be owned, but only by
somebody that I loved.
So, maybe that night wasn’t such a bad
thing, most of you might say. Well, even though it gave me some sweet
memories it has one fatal flaw. Just like a story with a great
beginning needs a great continuum, ”our” story needed one too, but it
never came. We talked frequently in the beginning and for a while I
almost felt like I was falling in love with him. I was hoping that
perhaps next time we played would be better. Thinking that perhaps it
all became so tame this time because we were tired and it was so
spontaneously done.
However, the talking soon became less
frequent. After a while I thought that perhaps I should test him. Just
to see his level of commitment and interest, I chose not to contact him
for a while. All I wanted was for him to call me or write something.
But he didn’t, it’s been several weeks now, without a single word from
him. I suppose that’s how much his “You can’t go” meant. Perhaps it was
just a game all along. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to trust him
again, or if I should even seem him again. Does he deserve an ambitious
girl like me? I have of course considered the opposite, that I wasn’t
good enough for him. But there are certain things that tell me that I
am. My previous experiences with men might have ended badly, but the
beginning was always sugar sweet.
One might wonder why I’m drawn
to this sort of men to start with. Why don’t I stay with the sweet
vanillas that only wish to make me happy? I have recently reconsidered
this since one of my best friends confessed that he’s falling in love
with me. This happened in parallel with my realization of just how
little I thought of and trusted my two Doms. I was feeling lonely and
simply out of luck and almost fell for the temptation of loving him.
But then I would have loved him out of greed and not out of love. It
took me a week to realize that I couldn’t do it. I need somebody
Dominant to fight me back in a loving way. It’s the way I love to live
and perhaps the only way that I want to live in a relationship. I may
confess that there are of course vanilla men who have made my heart
shiver a bit. They can be Dominant enough for my taste, but I prefer
men (or women) who are Dominant in their sex life as well. I once said
that they must have a healthier way to emit their need of Dominance…
but I’m starting to doubt that, considering the recent happenings.
So…am
I unhappy now? Am I gruesomely bitter? No, life’s too short for such
nonsense. If those men can’t commit them selves to me. Then why the
hell should I commit my self to them by mourning all the things that
could have been? No, I’m just not going to be that kind of person. I’m
not going to whine about all the things that I wanted and all the
things that they did wrong. Which I think is what people do a lot these
days. It’s almost like a fashion some how, a sick kind of mental
fashion of being a martyr, a hero and a survivor.
Perhaps I feel
a bit ashamed, since I really felt happy and hopeful with these guys.
They were so great, I thought. They were charming, funny, smart and
Dominant, but that all fell apart when I met them. In the case of my
first Dom I feel betrayed and I’m happy that I never managed to totally
trust him, though I was close to doing so several times. But I guess
I’ve learned my lesson now, what ever it might be.
While all of
this happened I started reading a book called “The Casanova Complex.
Compulsive lovers and their women” by Peter Trachtenberg. It’s an
amusing piece of psychology on men’s tendencies towards treating women
as objects in different ways. A woman can be a treat, a price to be
won, a thing to show off or a prey to be hunted and perhaps even
humiliated. I think I’m going to summarize the book later on, since it
explains or at least shines a light on the many problems that men seem
to have. The fear, the game, the hunt, the thrill and the horrible
hangover of the day after. I will try my best to understand this, to
better avoid such men in the future. I’m not going to be your toy to
play with any more.
Thank you for reading
Have a nice day /I
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Written the 14th of October
The bad news -The spark is getting dusty
To all you new readers: This is the tenth part in
my series of diary entries on how I’m evolving into a sub. This story
is written “in the making” so everything is fresh and true. Enjoy the
reading.
The time has come to write down the bad news and
perhaps a few confessions. This chapter and the following are about how
everything went wrong in one way or another with my two Doms. It’s
subdivided into handling my second Dom in this chapter and my first Dom
in the following one.
During the time that followed the earlier
chapter I kept seeing my second Dom. I had thought him to be
intelligent and simply smooth enough to dominate me physically and
mentally. But since he couldn’t give me what I wanted, I suppose that I
was wishing for too much. So “What did he do then?” you might wonder.
Well,
he was rather charming and good looking, so I’m not going to complain
about such things. He was honest and always easy to reach, and that’s a
good thing. It doesn’t however weigh up the fact that he couldn’t
commit him self to anything. I’m not talking about relationships here;
I’m talking about simply putting some energy and edge into things. In
the beginning I thought of him as very relaxed, but then realized that
he simply wasn’t carefree but careless. I’m a person who wants to be as
pleasing as possible and to have great demands placed on me. Demands
that I can strive to fulfill by training and practice. For me to then
meet and play with a person who reacts with a raised eyebrow and a bit
of a smile, no matter what happens, as he did. It simply wasn’t okay
for me, after a while. I mean sure, I do like him and I find his jokes
and behaviors very amusing. But, I want to be taken serious and to be
fucked in a serious manner. He was hard on me some times, but never
hard enough. He never attempted to raise me up and teach me right from
wrong in how to please him. When we fucked it was in the sense of
“now”. If I couldn’t perform a task, he would switch to another one,
never teaching me how to do what he wanted me to. Perhaps he thought he
was being nice by doing this, but I disagree.
The fact that
all we did was having sex also made me rather annoyed. He had honestly
told me that he had problems talking to people who weren’t close to
him. After a while I thought of my self as being at least a little bit
closer to him. But when we met for the third time it sort of showed me
just how far off I was. As he visited me, we would chat and have a kind
of sex that I don’t even want to call bdsm. After that we just stayed
quiet. I cooked some food and he turned on the TV, and it all just felt
so surreal. I never thought I would feel so frustrated and empty
because of another person’s mere existence. But there I was, without a
single thought to share with this stranger that I had just been fucked
by.
Now afterwards I wonder if I made him feel uneasy.
Considering the fact that I didn’t come and that he sees him self to be
a pretty good fucker. I didn’t come, even though he tried very hard.
But to have him trying so hard to please me just didn’t feel right to
me. I’m not saying that I can’t enjoy such behavior, but it wasn’t what
I wanted from him. I wanted him to behave just like he had done the
first time we met. That he would push me up against a wall, choke me
and force me into becoming his whore once more. The second time we met
had been pretty much like that, but still nothing more advanced than
the first time. The play sessions were over pretty fast and they always
left me wondering “Was that it?”. Even though he’s clearly experienced
in having sex he often feels down right dead. To not know him as a
person leaves me blocked out in a way that I almost can’t explain.
Even
though he’s a great kisser, I almost can’t feel his lips as the touch
mine. His hand moving softly over my skin leaves nothing but a feeling
of cold air behind them. No tremble, no lust, no feelings. So even
though he seemed to be such a catch at first, I’m starting to have my
doubts. Perhaps this is the end of my strange relation to my second Dom.
Thank you for reading
Have a nice day/I
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Written the 1st of OctoberThe good news -giggles of fearTo
all you new readers: This is the ninth part in my series of diary
entries on how I’m evolving into a sub. This story is written “in the
making” so everything is true. Enjoy the reading.
Because of
the special circumstances of compilation, this is a slightly old text.
I wrote it a while ago as a scrap, but I still think it's good enough
for publishing. It catches the feelings that I had back then. My
feelings of fear and excitement over my two Doms and their impact on my
life and me.
So far I’ve met each of my Doms once, fucked one
of them and played around with both. Though it’s all been on a rather
neat level. In one way that’s good, because I get to meet and play with
them, without having to show them total respect and devotion. I suppose
one could see this as me slacking off a bit. But then again, doing the
real thing right away would put me under a lot of stress. I would be so
bloody scared of doing things the wrong way that I probably wouldn’t do
anything at all.
At the moment the meetings with these men
have had a certain effect on me. I miss them and the things we have
done. I think that they’re both good men and I can’t wait to meet them
again. At the same time I can’t help but feeling scared. Scared of what
they might do and scared of my self for not being able to handle the
situation. But then again, it’s not about handling the situation with a
smile, now is it? I just watched a couple of short bdsm-videos from a
free Website. I like porn but I’ll never pay for it, so my references
are what’s out there for free or in my books and my head. And I think
that’s more than enough. However as I watched these videos I started to
feel rather scared. As I said, it’s not about being able to handle the
situation… it seems to me that it’s more about screaming your guts out
in pain and pleasure. In a way I find the thought of that panic very
arousing… but then again…
How does a Dom know when enough is
enough? Some may know from experience, but all girls are different so
will that really help? I my self am a screamer… I scream and scream
till my throat gets soar and I make muffled sounds with my mouth closed
instead. I can shut up and I wouldn’t like to do it either. The
screaming releases a lot of stress for me. I very much like the feeling
of just letting go of all my manners and self control. When I scream
from the top of my lungs I’m allowing my self to fear what ever is
happening and to let that fear take hold of me. For a person with
rather high self control, such as my self, this is a blessing. It’s
like being a child again, or just primal. To act by instinct, to do
what ever my subconscious tells me to do (hihi playing with words
again).
In spite of all that I long for, I’m scared right
now. I’m scared of the pain and the claustrophobia that comes with the
playsessions. I’m scared of that my Dom might go too far with me… as I
said; how will he know when he’s gone too far? Now, in some ways that
might seem as a lack of trust. And well, yes it is. But can you blame
me? How can you trust somebody before actually doing these things? I
don’t think that they could gain my trust in any other way. That's a
great paradox isn't it? I can still feel a slight squeakiness when
remembering the words of my first Dom "Don't worry, leave the thinking
to me. You think too much, little girl."
I have a certain
amount of trust in them of course. We’ve talked a lot and it has built
up some trust and calm in me. Even though I’m their obedient little
girl, it doesn’t keep me from throwing a winning smile at them. Just
because I’m at the bottom, I don’t think I’ll have to feel defeated.
Sure, that will all change in bed… but it’s by my permission so I don’t
see it as losing, more like winning. I know, I have a big mouth for
such a little girl. But some may seem to like it. I’m not being rude,
just proud of my self and my way of life. It might not all be a
righteous and pretty way to react, but it makes me feel good and I love
it.
I remember a video I saw once, a male and a female Dom,
doing a little girl, just like me. At some point, when she’d pied her
self repeatedly and screamed a lot as well, simply out of control. The
female Dom looked at her and asked “Are you alright?”, then the male
Dom interrupted by saying “Alright?! She’s in fucking heaven!”. Then he
slapped her tear striped little face and kept on fucking her. And yes
indeed, she was probably in heaven. Watching that was like listening to
fairytale as a kid. I watched them and dreamed of the day when somebody
would treat me that bad and still know that I loved it. It’s a strange
kind of love and I’ve only gotten to experienced it a few times… and I
believe that those times will be very bleak in comparison as to what
awaits me. Therefore I’m embracing my fear, with the slight feeling of
a human sacrifice, and I’m looking forward to my future. Quietly
whispering in an heroic manner “I’m ready.”.
Thank you for reading.
Have a nice day /I
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Written the 16th of Septhember
A simple dance
To all you new readers: This is the eight part in my series of diary
entries on how I’m evolving into a sub. This story is written “in the
making” so everything is fresh and true. Enjoy the reading.
This chapter will handle how it was for me to meet my second Dom.
We
decided to meet one day as I was passing by his city on some work
related business. By general measures we chose to meet on one of the
most anonymous and safe spots in a city: the train station. I sat
outside it, waiting for him while reading a book of mine. I felt rather
aroused, but not overly excited. This was just a friend, I hardly saw
him as a dominant even though I found him attractive in many ways. He
had dominated me a few times by text messages and msn. He used to
instruct me on how to play with myself or how to take images of myself.
But I never saw this as true dominant behavior since he was always very
easygoing otherwise.
As I sat there reading, I could see a pair
of brown leather boots stepping right up in front of me. Looking up I
saw a slim, but muscular man wearing shades, smoking while listening to
some hardcore music. He made a gesture for me to get up and I closed my
book, without caring to check what page I was on. When I was about to
put the book in my bag, he started walking away from me and I hurried
to get behind him. We walked for a little while without speaking as
much as a word. He then turned to me, turned off his music and said
“Hi”. I smiled and extended an arm to give him a hug. This somehow
amused him and he asked me with irony “Do you want a hug?”, as if I
wasn’t obliged to have one. I said yes, with a rather insecure voice.
He laughed and hugged me, saying that he hated hugs. He then looked at
the book that I still had in my hands and snatched it from me. While
reading the back he asked me if I only read that sort of book, the
history based kind. I said that it was one of my favorite genres and
tried to take it back, somehow feeling nerdy and embarrassed. He held
on to it tightly, told me to let go and then gave it to me when he was
finished.
We moved on to a near by café and had a little chat.
He was nice, funny, smart and simply relaxed. After a while we both
grew tired of the cafés noisy environment, and went outside once again
standing a little bit to the side of the crowded train station.
We
stood there chatting for a while and he then asked me to come closer. I
looked at him rather suspicious and asked if he would blow smoke in my
face if I got close to him. He smiled for a bit and waited for my
curiosity to overcome my insecurity. After a while I was indeed
standing close to him, leaning my forehead against his shoulder as he
ran his fingers thru my hair. I could feel how he lowered his face
alongside my neck, hardly touching it. He then paused, drew a breath
from his cigarette and exhaled away from my face. I held my face down
towards his shoulder, too shy to look him in the eye and enjoying this
shyness very much.
He then kissed my neck gently a few times and
finished with biting it. Since I love getting bitten, I couldn’t help
moaning silently. I could hear how pleased he was as he asked me if he
had just heard a little whorelike moan. I said that perhaps he did and
then felt his hand under my chin, raising it. I turned my face to the
side with a playful little smile on my lips, slipping away from his
hands. That smile didn’t last for long though. Within a few seconds he
was holding my chin up again while forcing me to face him with his
other hand in my hair, grasping it tightly. I looked at him, once again
insecure of what to do. He looked back seemingly thoughtful and then
kissed me. What a great kisser.
We kissed for a while and he
teased me by biting me and kissing my neck. He placed his hand around
my throat, remarking on how thin it was. He could almost reach around
it with just one hand. I had my hands resting on his muscular upper
body, enjoying it very much. When he noticed this, he asked me if I was
indeed enjoying myself. I answered that it was a suitable type of
enjoyment. This made him laugh slightly and he asked what I wanted to
touch instead. I refused to answer as I found it a bit too embarrassing
as well as a bit of a stupid question. He asked me a second time and
then asked me “What did I just say? Answer the question.” with a steady
threatening voice. This was the first time that I was scared of him,
and I answered in a very low voice that I would rather have my hands on
his cock. He seemed pleased and told me to put them there. I looked
around at the station, rather scared of being seen and then proceeded.
I had thought that I hadn’t made such a great impression on him during
the day, but apparently I was enough fun to give him a steady erection.
This made me rather happy and of course aroused. I moaned softly as he
reached down to stroke the outside of my pants, while grabbing my ass.
I
looked around and discovered that there was a window behind me. The
window lead to a shop, it was placed right behind the counter. There
were two girls standing by it, looking at each other. I wondered if
they had seen us and I blushed. He must have been able to look into the
window all the time, enjoying the eventual attention from the girls and
the shop customers. This chilled my head a bit and I looked at the
clock. It was perhaps 10minuts left before I had to go away to my job
to do some extra paperwork. I told him this. He nodded and then told me
to follow him as he started walking rather fast. I hurried after him
while trying to figure out where we were heading. When I saw the
toilet-sign I looked at him and said: “You can’t be serious!” once
again reminding him that I had to leave in just a few minutes. He
laughed, seemingly amused by my sudden outburst and said: “I’m not
going to fuck you. Just follow me in there, okay?”.
I followed
him into a rather large toilet booth. He pulled the bag and jacket off
my shoulders, dropping them on the floor. Then, he pushed me up against
the wall with one hand around my throat while the other hand was
rubbing my clitt profusely outside my panties. I closed my eyes at
first, enjoying it. Then, the experience started to get too intense and
I couldn’t help from letting out little moans now and then. I opened my
eyes, looking at him, slightly begging him to stop, though I loved it
at the same time. Looking back at me with a steady look in his eyes, he
told me to be quiet. He stopped after a while and I could breathe for a
once more. Placing my hands on his belt, he told me to unbutton his
pants and my own. I looked with light suspicion at him, but felt that
my curiosity and obedience were too much of a driving force to keep me
from resisting.
I started jerking him off while he once again
caressed or more accurately harassed my clitt. My jerking motions got
worse and worse with the spasms that were running thru my body. My
knees were getting weak and I started to slide down the wall. I then
felt his formerly free hand in my hair, pulling me up back on my feet
again. Pretty soon I was clinging to him, trying not to scream out my
moans or fall to the floor. He hushed me over and over again, but I
couldn’t help letting out my quiet little moans. They came every time I
tried to breathe and I couldn’t stop it. As I was almost feeling
feverish by the intense stimulation, he turned me around. Pushing
himself against my back and arched ass, he asked me what was going thru
my head at the moment. I answered him that all I could think of was
that I wanted to be fucked by him. I could hear how pleased he was when
he asked me “Do you want to feel my cock inside you?” and I could
barely moan “Yes”. With those words he pulled my panties down and let
his cock slide inside wet little me. As he thrusted into me he moaned
quietly how much he loved my ass, how good it felt to fuck me. With his
hands around my throat, I was speechless, breathless, a simple
symbiotic organism enjoying the moment. I then blew him for a short
while and he finished then it all off with some more fucking. He came
on my ass and pulled my head back by the hair. “You’re my whore now, is
that clear?” He whispered in my ear and I shivered. “Yes” Was all I
could say and he pulled my hair even harder “What else do you say?” he
asked and I added “Thank you” with a smile.
I was once again
reminded of the fact that I was be running late. The mere state of
ecstasy made it very hard to be angry at him for keeping me busy and
sort of tricking me into having sex. I said: “Now I’m both late and
sullied” and raised my hand to slap his cheek lightly. Somehow I
couldn’t, however, and the motion slowed down to a simple caressing of
his cheek. He smiled at me and laughed a bit at my comment. We then got
dressed and rushed out of the toilet, slightly looking around for any
witnesses. However, the hall seemed empty and we walked quickly to my
train, hand I hand. Before we separated he pulled me close for a hug,
which surprised me. Then, I kissed him goodbye.
Have a nice day /I
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Written the 15th of September
Fall -Fruit of frost?
To all you new readers: This is the seventh part in my series of diary
entries on how I’m evolving into a sub. This story is written “in the
making”, so everything is fresh and true. Enjoy the reading.
This chapter is about how it felt when the cold winds of fall started to blow between my Dom and me.
If
this was a book, there would be two options according to classical
story telling. Either one of “us”, me and my first Dom that is, would
be exposed to a great obstacle, but overcome it and reunite, or we’d
just live happily ever after from the beginning to the end. The later
one probably fits into the more girly genre of literature, which just
happens to be a genre that I don’t know much about. I do however have a
feeling that in that genre, the book could also reveal that the first
guy was a total swine; leaving me miserable until Mr.Right comes along
and saves the day. So, is my life a girly love story or just the old
fashioned “We shall overcome and believe in (whatever)”kind of story?
Honestly, I would love to find out, because I don’t know how the future
will turn out. This is after all written in parallel with my life.
After
my meeting with my first Dom, I was of course eager to meet him again.
I mentioned earlier that we were both busy at the time, with school and
work. And because of that, we pretty much lost touch. So, what did I do
when my prince charming suddenly disappeared; giving my nothing more
but a few messages every once in a while to hang on to. First of all I
tried to respect that he was busy, but I was bothered by the fact that
he didn’t even apologize for simply leaving me behind. As a loving
protest I wrote to him, telling him that I missed him and that I
thought he was mistreating me. As a joke I told him that one should
only buy a puppy if one has the time to take care of such a little
creature. I also added that since he didn’t take his responsibility any
longer, I wanted to stop calling by the title of “Herre” for the time
being. I simply didn’t feel that he had that role in my life any longer
and took it from him. His answer to this was blank, with a slight
apology and a simple acknowledgement of my actions.
Perhaps his
answer was so blunt because I didn't show himjust how angry and
disappointed I was. I didn't want to do this how ever, it would have
made me feel like too much of a bother.
I don’t think it’s too
strange to say that I was some times furious with him. He had made me
hope and lose hope because he didn’t have enough time for me. If you’re
wondering, enough time meant that he talked to me perhaps once a week
or every third week even… So don’t mistake me for the attention loving
girl who demands daily phone calls and so on.
I was left feeling
dissatisfied sexually, mentally and above all dissatisfied as a sub, so
I moved on in life. I chose not to hate him, but to put him on stand-by
and keep my life rolling with other pleasures. That’s how I got in
touch with my second Dom. We knew each other since a while back and had
a lot in common both in sex and in our view of life. However, I never
felt as deeply involved with him as a person as I did with my first
Dom. We had a lot of fun conversations, but they lacked depth and
simply reflected our sexual needs for each other. This is sad since
we’re both intelligent people who love a smart conversation a little
now and then. I did however treasure that he was available very often,
just a phone call or textmessage away.
Have a nice day /I
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Written the 29th of August
A hard day's night
To all you new readers: This is the sixth part in my series of diary
entries on how I’m evolving into a sub. This story is written “in the
making”, so everything is fresh and true.
This chapter is about how it was to finally meet my first Dom, in person and so on.
Now,
we had talked to each other for quite some time, a few months or so. We
didn't know everything about each other, but we knew enough. I didn't
know the sort of things that you would find on a personal record. But I
knew about his favorite books, music and interests. I knew some about
his philosophies, goals and the way he worked. I simply felt like I
knew him and like I had nothing in particular to fear from him. We used
to sit up to a little too late at night and chat with each other. It
was always sort of easy-going but with a philosophical undertone. With
the mere dark but witty irony that we both shared.
We lived in
different cities, so arranging a meeting wasn’t too easy. I had been
visiting some friends in his city, earlier during the year. But at the
time he had been busy and couldn’t meet me. This made me disappointed,
but I had promised my self and him to respect the fact that he was
busy. He had a lot to do in school and at his job. He did how ever
manage to find a day when we could meet, and so I went over to his city.
As
I sat on the bus I discovered that we were running late and pretty soon
the driver announced it. I cursed the traffic of the big city and
thought of calling him up. There was just one little problem, I didn’t
have his phone number. Why didn’t I have it? I still don’t know
actually, I think he just might have forgotten to give it to me. So, I
arrived half an hour late, with no time to spare for lunch, as I had
planned earlier. Instead I grabbed a sandwich and jumped on the nearest
city bus to get to his side of town. I had looked it all up on the
internet, so it wasn’t too hard to find my way there. Though, the lost
half hour did have its impact. I arrived about 15 minutes early at the
bridge where we were supposed to meet. Exhausted I leaned against the
rail, watching the cars and water bellow me. A few meters away I could
hear some people talking, they seemed worried. I amused my self by
thinking that they thought I was about to jump. I had that sort of
feeling in my stomach anyway. What was I getting my self into? Standing
on this bridge, waiting for somebody I’ve never met before… who was he
really? Would I ever get to know him?
I ate my sandwich, while
watching the cars and the water passing under the bridge. I had my
headphones on, listening to my old favorite band The Smashing Pumpkins.
I had told him that I wouldn’t watch the bridge, because I didn’t want
those long seconds of waiting for the other one to get close enough to
talk. Instead I stood with my back against it all. It felt sweet not to
be able to see him approach. I could barely hear the steps of the few
people who were walking behind my back. Every time somebody walked past
me, I wondered if it was him. As the time grew near, I finished my
sandwich, turned the volume down and felt my body spring with tensions.
Though I was aware of the fact that he could be late or maybe not come
at all, I was still excited. I dared to hope, like a child would hope
to get what she wished for at Christmas eve or her birthday.
Pretty
soon, he arrived. I was so tense that I noticed him in the corner of my
eye. As every child who’s ever received that special present has
experienced, it’s always a chock. It’s a rush of happiness, mixed with
the thought of “Is this really it?”. This doesn’t mean that I was
disappointed; it simply means that it felt surreal to finally meet him.
He was taller than I expected, about 25cms taller than me. With that
height, there comes a natural slenderness that sort of amused me. I was
used to boys in their 20’s, about 10cm shorter and a bit more fit than
this guy. So I spent the first hours just getting used to it. Thru and
thru it was rather amusing since I was used to competing with raw
muscle power instead of simple length. Therefore I felt both small and
strong, which was confusing to me. But then again, he’s always had this
impact on me. I’ve always felt free, but limited, in his presence. Like
I was free, on his conditions.
We started talking almost
immediately and took a walk in the near by town area. He had his arm
around my waist from a pretty early stage of the evening. Since I’m
sort of shy, I felt a bit uncomfortable with it. At the same time I
liked how he took that little percentage of control from me. Though, I
did invent small breaks from his body. When we were walking, I would
occasionally slip away from him to look a bit closer at something.
There were plenty of things to look at, so it wasn’t a very hard thing
to do. I like the way I could manage to sneak away and get some
freedom. Then just a minute later, I would return to him and have his
arm around me again. Free, but under his conditions, or was it our
conditions? It felt like they were mine, but he let me have them.
The
kissing happened pretty much the same way. I suppose that I’m just a
bit too cautious to get used to a person right away. The first kiss
wasn’t anything in particular. It came too early for me to be ready for
it. But as I got used to him being that close to me, I started enjoying
it, a lot. I think he got me feeling at home when he sat down and asked
me to sit on his lap. As I sat there with his arms around me, his hands
in my hair and on my neck, it just felt natural. It reminded me of whom
we were, who he was. When meeting somebody from the internet for the
first time this is some times hard to remember. It’s a whole new
spectrum of that person.
As we were up walking again, my feet
were starting to get really soar. Therefore we headed for his
apartment, just for a quick rest, we said. Before we had met, we had
agreed on a walk to get to know each other. We had also said that some
other things might happen. Though there were some restrictions decided
ahead of time. I wanted to keep my shirt on, just as I had done when I
met my friend who trained me. Then mother nature stepped in and gave me
my period, the day before we met. This added the rule that my panties
were supposed to stay on as well… since I simply felt more secure that
way. We had also talked about the issue of using titles. As a witty
joke I had said that I could use the title of “Herre” when I thought
that he behaved like one. He then surprised me by agreeing to the idea.
There
was something in the air, as we got closer and closer to the apartment.
To get there we had to walk a few narrow stairs, back to the bridge
where we had met earlier. In the stairs I went astray under the bridge,
amused by the framework and the view. He told me to stop, saying it
could be dangerous. I grinned a bit, since I thought it was a silly
thing to say. After looking around he went after me, placing a hand
across my throat. You never know what could happen in a place like
this, he said with a grin. He then pushed me up against the cold
concrete wall and kissed me. I had never thought of the place or of him
in that sense. It had been such a long time since I had stopped seeing
him as a threat. This quick reminder made little sparks fly thru my
body. I suppose that it was the adrenalin rushing, but I was too amazed
to get scared in the real sense of the word. Maybe the adrenalin even
made the experience even sweeter. I enjoyed the kiss to the point of
breaking and moaned quietly while digging my nails into his jacket and
hair. I did how ever feel a slight urge to get out of there, just to
get the thought of danger out of my head. When the kiss ended I was
rather quick to head back to the stairs. He seemed to have slightly
different plans though, or maybe he just noticed that I got a bit
scared. Cause before I knew it, all I could feel was the strong grasp
around my throat and the same rush as before. Once again he pushed me
up against the wall, just when I thought I had gotten away. We kissed
and I loved it so much. This was romance in my meaning of the word.
After
that we were more or less aroused and walked to the apartment
lightheaded and lighthearted. We talked as always, he even started
telling me all the bad jokes that he knew. I laughed, not even ashamed
of the fact that the horrible bad jokes amused me.
The apartment
was small, but not claustrophobically small. I watched with amusement
how he extended his bed from a cabinet. Then I sneaked into the
bathroom for obvious reasons. When I returned he was sitting on his
coach watching a music video. I had watched one of our favorite bands
the day before, and it had sure had an impact on me. The music had a
proud but lonely glow and I carried that feeling with me the whole day.
When he noticed me he waved for me to come and sit on his lap once
again. I obeyed without hesitation and pretty soon I was in his arms
again. I enjoyed his hand around my neck, grasping my hair, yanking it
softly in-between kisses. He then asked me to lie down over his knee
and I obeyed. As he pulled up the skirt that I was wearing, I could
feel nothing more than pleasure. I felt a wave of warmth rush thru my
body, even before the spanking started. He alternated between soft
stroking and spanking at just the right pace and roughness. I loved
every second of it and moaned softly as he held my neck down with one
hand and spanked me with the other. When he started pulling my panties
down I stiffened, unsure of if he had forgotten or if he was just
trying his luck. He never pulled them down entirely, just enough to
expose my naked skin to the slapping. I felt for ever grateful and
enjoyed the moment. As my skin grew hot and red, he would pull me up a
bit by the hair to kiss me. He then placed his mouth close to my ear
and whispered that this was nothing more but a taste. A taste of what
awaited me the next time we would play.
After some more spanking he
stopped and pulled my panties up again. I looked at him, rather sad,
begging for more. He smiled, kissed me and reminded me that this was
just a taste.
You may understand that I was getting rather
aroused from this. I wanted more, but knew that it wasn’t not possible,
without annoying complications, because of my period. We went over to
the bed anyway and cuddled for a moment. He asked me how I was feeling,
I answered that I felt like a whore. For a moment he took it as a bad
sign, but then he seemed to get what I meant and asked me about it. I
told him that I simply wasn’t used to being the more craving one in
this sort of situation. It made him smile and he reminded me that it’s
good to train ones self control some times. He also added that I was
his whore indeed, and then asked me to repeat it. I refused, half
because I simply don’t like to say such things about my self, it’s one
of my hard limits. Not because it makes me feel bad, I’m just a bit too
proud to do it. I also refused just for the heck of it, which he
noticed. When I refused a second time he grabbed me by the hair and
pushed my head down in the bed. Afraid of what might come next if I
didn’t answer him correctly I said it, adding the title as well. He
seemed pleased and called me a good little whore.
As a revenge I
started to tease him, for various innocent things. Within a few minutes
we were tumbling around in the bed wrestling each other. Once again I
was reminded of his size, as I possibly couldn’t wrestle him down. At
one point I managed to sit over his chest with his arms pinned down. I
felt victorious until he lifted his arms, with my entire weight on top
of them.
After a while we got rather tired and we just laid
there and talked. I ran my fingers thru is hair repeatedly, since it
simply is something I like to do. Later on I unbuttoned his shirt and
got rather fascinated with his thick chest hair. I had always been with
rather hairless men, so it took my by surprise. I told him this and he
laughed, telling me that I couldn’t have been with many real men is
that was the case. I returned the comment by saying that my father was
allergic to furry animals, so maybe I should stay away from him. I of
course got spanked for that last comment, but it was just a joke. I
actually grew a little fascination for the hair, as I ran my fingers
thru it over and over again. It reminded me of when I was a kid and
watched the old James Bond movies with Sean Connery.
The sky had
grown dark and the only light in the room was the one from the
streetlamps outside. It casted a cold blue striped light over us, thru
the window shades. I thought to my self that I should take a picture of
him in this light, some other time. It was beautiful, he was beautiful.
We grew quiet I noticed how tired I was and I supposed that he felt the
same. He drew me near and mumbled that we should sleep for a while.
Normally I wouldn’t do this, because of the risk of waking up to some
unpleasant surprise. I could how ever feel his breathing getting
heavier and heavier, so after a while I could relax enough to drift
into sleep as well. Thinking of it afterwards makes it more romantic
than what it was at the time. Though, I might have been too tired to
see it as romantic. There we laid, in each others arms, still fully
dressed, sleeping, for a little while. I don’t remember who woke up
first, I didn’t notice. We were still, just watching each other again,
without any pressure to talk or do anything. Some may see this rather
dull, but I think I needed this. To simply go there and do almost
nothing, to just enjoy the moment and not made anything extravagant out
of it.
I got my check up call, from a friend who was near by.
She asked me if I wanted to join her and the others for a beer or two.
I told her that I’d rather stay right where I was and hung up. The
scenario got me giggling a bit. What would I rather do; hang out with
this person that had me completely relaxed by doing nothing. Or sit in
some bar sipping beer with people that I had met every day for the past
two years?
As I stood there with my cell phone I could feel him
watching me from the bed. I heard him say that I was beautiful, in a
thoughtful but not exaggerated voice. I took it as a compliment and
smiled, but as always I didn’t care too much about it. I’ve never been
good with taking compliments about my good looks, maybe because I’ve
always received them. It’s like when I say that I don’t care about my
looks. I don’t have to care, because I already look good. How ever, he
did make me happy by saying so, of course.
I sneaked down into
his bed again; both of us were now a bit more awake. Since we couldn’t
have sex, I felt like at least asking him what would have happened if
we did have sex. He told me that I would have been taught how to blow
him, just the way he liked to be blown. Then he would have fucked me
anally and if I would have been a good girl, there might have been some
more pleasurable penetration as well. Once again he reminded me that
this was just a taste and added that next time he would teach me all
about how to blow him, perfectly. I felt little chills running down my
spine. I wanted to know all about it, now. At first I thought of having
anal sex, but since I’m sort of scared of it, I didn’t suggest it.
Instead we started kissing, cuddling and wrestling again. Some times he
spanked and teased my body and mind.
I could barely control
myself, I wanted more but I didn’t know what to do. All of a sudden as
we were wrestling our restlessness away, he pushed me down on my
stomach. While holding me down he reached out to grab a tie from his
cabinet. I enjoyed it with great satisfaction as he tied my hands
together behind my back. He laid down behind me, asking if it hurt and
I said no, with a smile. Then I felt something was placed in my hands,
his cock. Once again I felt that warmth rush thru me as I stroked it. I
still remember how my breath grew narrow by excitement.
He then
released me and pulled me up to stand on all four. Then pushed a few
fingers down my throat, which I surprisingly almost didn’t choke on.
With a hand on my back he made me arch, raising my ass into the air. I
wondered if he had thought the same thing as I had, that he could still
take me anally. I suppose that he thought about this as he stood behind
me. But he had promised not to get into my panties, even though I
wanted him to. Every second I was about to give him the permission to
do it, but I didn’t. I felt like telling him that I trusted him enough
to let him do with me as he pleased. But as always I was just a little
bit extra cautious, just in case. While I was mindwrestling myself he
placed him self before me, with his pants buttoned again. He raised my
chin and slapped my cheek, rather lightly. Though, since I’m afraid of
blows towards my face, it was enough to scare me a little bit. I
lowered my face, breathing heavily, trying to judge how it made me
feel. I felt ashamed, why did he hit me? As I couldn’t find any reason
for it I tried to forget the bad part in the shame and just enjoy it
instead.
I didn’t look up at him again as he raised my chin once
more, I was too ashamed. Instead I looked at his unbuttoned pants. He
instructed me to open my mouth and how to behave as he thrusted deeper
and deeper into my throat. I barely knew how to deepthroat and was
happy enough to get at least a few deep thrusts before my reflexes
kicked in.
As we proceeded he came twice, in my face. When I
finally went home my biggest concern was to get rid of the sperm in my
hair. Otherwise I was in a state of complete bliss that night, as well
as the day after. I actually met with my good friend that had trained
me earlier(in chapter four). When we met I was quiet and he asked me if
I was okay, wondering how yesterday had been. I smiled and told him
that just because I’m a sick little girl, the rest of the world didn’t
have to know about it. He laughed and hugged me, telling me that as
long as it made me happy it seemed just fine to him. I then added that
I was amazed, because for once I didn’t feel a craving for anything.
This is surprising since I never got to come, during that little
playsession. Some how I felt that I had all that I needed, I felt
complete and at peace with the world. I sat quiet and ate my icecream
with him when he asked if he could meet my new Dom. At first I thought
that it was a rather fun idea for them to meet and exchange thoughts
about how I should be trained. Or just because they were rather similar
in their taste of books, philosophy and obviously in their choice of
women. Then I discovered that I still hadn’t received his phone number,
which made me a bit cranky and my friend also saw it as a bad sign. Why
wouldn’t he give it to me? I didn’t feel like asking, since I simply
thought that if he wanted to, he would do it. But maybe that picture
that I had of dominant men was a bit too flawless. Maybe they can
forget things as well. He wasn’t my boyfriend after all, and I couldn’t
demand such things from him. I thought a bit about it, but chose not
care, at least for the time being.
Have a nice day /I
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Written the 19th of August
Playing
To all you new readers: This is the fifth part in my series of diary
entries on how I’m evolving into a sub. This story is written “in the
making” so everything is fresh and true. Enjoy the reading.
This chapter will handle some simple chat about both good and bad dominant men that I’ve met.
After
the event in chapter four, I was shaken and thrilled. As you may
understand, since it was my first real taste of bdsm. Though, I did
have some kinky friends before I got into bdsm. How every, they weren’t
very kinky towards me… or at least I didn’t see it that way. They used
to boss me around and for a while they even spanked me (not hard) when
ever I was “bad”. Bad in the sense that I would whimper at them when
they threatened me or gave me orders. I might also explain that an
order could be “Give me a backrub” or “sit here”… so it wasn’t anything
sexual. How ever it did give me a taste of what it was like to be under
surveillance and given orders. I was their little girl that they pushed
around and we all quite enjoyed it. For those of you who are wondering,
“they” were more precisely 3 dominant men between the ages of 27 and
23, while I was 16 at the time. They were my good friends and kept me
from doing stupid things that girls in that age normally do. So I’m
quite happy with the overprotection they gave me. It didn’t matter if I
was at somebody’s place cooking their meal or out partying with them. I
always felt protected. I even called them my evil big brothers. Since
that time, this relationship has dissolved, but I still talk to one of
them some times. He still cares about what his little girl is doing and
that always makes me grateful.
So, I did encounter some dominant
men and dominant behavior quite early in my life. This was both good
and bad for me, I believe. Good in the way that I knew that I liked it
and that I wasn’t scared of them being psychopaths, just because they
were dominant. Though it did make me a little too calm and reserved
towards dominance. I still whimper at orders some times… though I have
a feeling that I won’t be doing that for much longer.
When I
display such behavior towards the dominant men that I am with right
now, they mostly tell me that some day I’ll have to pay for it. And
well, I’m just happy that they’re not carrying some notebook where
they’re writing it all down. Though in a real relationship, I think I
would prefer if they did. I’m true to my self in the meaning that I
know, that if I’m given the opportunity to slack off, I will do so.
That fact also makes playmates more suitable for me than a real Dom.
Perhaps he would scare me away by being as strict as he should be. I
understand that a Dom should stick to his rules and not bend them
because I ask him to. But still, if I can get away easily, I will try
to do so. Therefore I suppose that the idea of an bdsm relationship is
still a big mystery to me.
As I had just gotten my first real
taste of bdsm sex, you may understand that I wanted more. After a few
weeks of content and yellow striped buttcheeks, I went out searching
for more. To make it easy for my self, I chose somebody who lived close
to me. I just saw him as an opportunity to get fast and good sex and
didn’t care too much about who he was. He seemed nice, rather good
looking and we shared some interest so we had things to talk about. I
didn’t bother to get to know him and he seemed to like it that way. He
also had a funny way of bossing me around. A way that I would later
recognize as more or less simple childish dominance. I didn’t know it
at the time, but he was more or less just a kid. He was still high on
life, sex, and simply being a man. So when I though it was starting a
good sex-relationship, I was more or less just contributing to his ego.
We only met once, and it was in my measures met a disaster. The
conversation was daft since we didn’t trust each other enough to speak
our minds. As an attempt to get him out of his shell I even insulted
his taste of music. I just wanted to see some reaction outside of the
calm, blank face that he was presenting to me. Even though he was “just
sex” to me, I still wanted to fuck a human being.
In difference
from me, he seemed to think that the meeting was going pretty well. At
the end of it all he puahed me into a public bathroom and simply
pleasured him self with my help. I half enjoyed it, since I was horny.
But his arrogance and aggressive behavior struck me more like
insecurity than dominance. At the end of our little time together, I
felt rather ill. He didn’t make me feel safe at all. In some ways he
even scared me or maybe I scared my self. Even though one of my
greatest sexual dreams is to simply be used as a tool to please
another, I’m terribly scared of being seen as a thing. I’m proud of who
I am, and if somebody wants my body more than my mind. Well, then that
person ain’t worthy of me. That’s simply how I see it, contradictional
as it may seem. I simply can’t accept the thought of spending my time
and devotion on somebody that doesn’t care about what’s inside of me.
But then again isn’t that a general contradiction amongst women? We
dress up and make our selves into pretty little molded things, for the
man we love. We expect him to tell us how beautiful we are, how
excellent the food we made was… We create this external design and yet,
we will hate him if he forgets about what’s inside. Or more or less,
what we’re trying to hide behind all of that make-up, fancy clothes,
perfume and so on. As you may have noticed, dating and the behaviors of
men and women, is still a mystery to me.
So, needless to say,
that little “thing” ended the day after we met. As I got home I curled
up in my bed and felt simply dirty and puzzled. The feeling was similar
to the times when I in an early relationship had been forced into
having sex. I simply felt disgusted by myself for not telling him “no”.
Though, when I thought of this during the so called sex, I felt that he
was too aggressive. It felt like he wouldn’t care or just misinterpret
it as a part of bdsm. And that would have been truly horrible, in my
opinion. So rather than risking to experience true neglection or even
rape, I preferred to stay quiet.
Later on, when one of my old
dominant friend asked me how I was doing, I couldn’t tell him. I was
simply too ashamed of the stupid mistake that I had made. Instead I
asked him if he knew any nice men who lived close by, because I sure
didn’t. He laughed a bit and told me that he didn’t know any. So there
I was, back again on square one. Back to the world of exploring my
other two Doms, who so far were just people on the internet.
Have a nice day /I
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Written the 9th of August
Losing my virginity in submission
To all you new readers: This is the forth part in my series of diary
entries on how I’m evolving into a sub. This story is written “in the
making” so everything is fresh and true. Enjoy the reading.
As I
said earlier, I was rather sexually active, even before I got into
bdsm. So therefore you may understand that this chapter won’t be about
me having sex for the first time. It's about the first time I had sex
with a dominant man. Now, most of you, who have read my previous
entries, might think that man should rightfully have been my first Dom.
I may agree that it should have been him, especially since I do call
him my first Dom…but it’s not him.
By the beginning of this year
2009 I had a loosely established network of peers in the society of
bdsm. I was starting to feel more than ready and I really needed to
break out of my world of simple thoughts and theories surrounding the
subject of bdsm. How ever, I didn’t feel that I was ready enough to
have a real Dom. I didn’t know anybody who I felt that I could trust
and love as much as a sub should. Therefore I turned to one of my
closest friends, in the bdsm world.
As we were trying to figure
out my do’s and don’ts he asked me “So, can I play rough with you
or..?”. I couldn’t answer it since I really didn’t know what it meant.
In the end I just said “Think of me as a total beginner and elevate as
you think suitable.”. Even though I thought I had tried some bdsm sex
before, I became more and more sure about the fact that it was nothing
like the real deal. This fact also made me wonder if this really was my
type of sex, was I really ready?
I picked a day close by, so
that I couln’t have much time for regrets. Within short I was sitting
on the bus, enduring some hours of both hopeful happiness and fear. As
the fear came close I pushed it away, this was after all one of the
best friends that I had, he wouldn’t hurt me… or… he wouldn’t hurt me
more than I wanted him to… right?
He met me by the bus station,
just a minute late, which was enough for my nerves to settle down a
bit. He had his scarf wrapped around his head, since it was a cold day.
The scarf covered his mouth and almost went over his cheekbones, but it
didn’t matter. Because I could see his eyes and they were beautiful and
smiling. All thru the week-end that we spent together I came to fall
more and more in love with those eyes. They were simple grey and blue,
but some how very deep and warm.
When we came home to him, I put
my things away and we sat down on his bed. We talked a bit about
nothing and rather soon I did indeed recognize my old friend. I started
teasing him as I always do. The only difference this time was that he
didn’t simply say “Hah, you silly little cutie.” he wrestled me down on
his bed instead. I struggled, but there's no doubt that he was merely
playing with me. He pushed me down with a grin and placed his face
close to mine. “Your upper lip is trembling.” He said, apparently very
pleased. After that the little game came to a short stop as he
sincerely asked how I felt and if I wanted to get spanked. I said that
I felt as calm as I possibly could be. I was afraid that I wouldn’t be
able to handle the pain, but then again, why was I there if not for the
sake of finding out. So, with a shy smile I said yes.
He pulled
me up over his lap and corrected my posture so that I was arching my
back and lifting my ass up. All I can remember after that is the rush
of happiness that I felt both during and after the spanking. It wasn’t
a hard spanking, just a taste. I was so happy for the fact that I could
take it and that I liked it. After the spanking we went off to eat
some, but I wasn’t very hungry. All I could think of was how the
week-end would continue.
During the following days he did indeed
start soft and then elevate my treatment. One of the things that I had
mentioned in my “Don’ts” was that I wanted to keep my shirt on, in the
beginning. As we started playing he attempted to take it off, but I
stopped him. He respected me, but looked into my eyes as he said that
next time, it would come off, without any complaints. I agreed and felt
my respect for him rise. I had respected him before, but as a friend,
not as a dominant. How ever I didn't totally trust him. When he later
said "I can do anything I want to you now, how does it feel?" I said
"I'm keeping my self from panicking".
He started off by teaching
me a stance. When ever he would tell me to “stand” I were to stand up
straight before him with my hands behind my head and my legs well
separated. To see if I had learned the stance properly he put me thru a
little test. He blindfolded me and made me stand completely still while
he played with ice cubes all over my body. This was very cold, but
still not too difficult, I thought. While doing this, I was of course
naked, for the first time. At the beginning he stood close to me, all I
could hear was his voice saying “You have nothing to be ashamed of, is
that understood?” .
We then continued with some spanking,
deepthroating, anal sex and sex. He gave me instructions and time to
get used to how things felt. It was all carried out under rather
friendly conditions. If I said no, he would stop, but that was about to
change. I knew this and feared it, but at the same time I was curious.
It
all became very prominent when I started getting soar from the
spanking. I might very well mention that I before this, I had never
been spanked to the point of bruising. Now I had been spanked several
times and my ass was rather bruised and soar. It didn’t stop him how
ever and it worried me. This was also the point where he started using
more tools to spank me. As we moved on to the horsewhip I started to
get scared. The pain was intense and I was wondering if this really was
what I wanted. I was too scared to take any chances of getting hurt.
I rose from my leaned forward posture and grabbed the whip that he was about to swing.
He
must have realized what was going thru my head, because he didn’t seem
too angry. As we stood there I felt like the walls were closing in as
his eyes fixed them selves on me. I tried to speak, but there weren’t
any words to say. What could I say, that it hurt? He pushed me down on
the bed and put his face very close to mine, simply looking deep into
my eyes. I felt a bit like an actor who had forgotten the line in the
play that she was participating in.
I had forgotten my place.
He
continued to spank me, some times hard, some times lightly. He used
different tools such as a leather whip, a horsewhip and also a wooden
paddle. I had to count the strikes and thank him for every single one
of them. This helped me endure, since it gave me a light at the end of
the tunnel. All I can remember is how much I screamed and how I could
finally let go. I stopped thinking of if this was good for me or not. I
gave in to him and stopped trying to figure out what was to come next.
In some strange way, as I look back at it, that total submission was
blissful. I endured the pain even though it wasn’t pleasurable any
more. I wasn’t moaning, I was screaming. I don’t think that I’ve ever
screamed that loud in my entire life. It wasn’t a light girly scream
that I normally have; it was mere primal screams bursting out from my
stomach.
Some how, in that forced position, I felt free. I was
free to fear him and free to express that fear. It felt so good to
scream over and over again. The screams weren’t beautiful like my light
screams that made me think of girls in hentai movies. When I screamed
like a hentai girl I felt cute and beautiful. In my head, nothing of
this was made to look beautiful, it just came out as it was, pure.
Something was bursting out of little me, some immense force that I had
never experienced before.
As I came closer and closer to my
edge, my screams got quieter. There was something truly heavenly about
coming to the conclusion “I can’t take this any more” and still feel
that even though I was giving in, my body wasn’t. The pain was
screeching thru my body, but I wasn’t really getting hurt from it. Pain
is all in the mind, as the monks say. I realized this when I finally
let go of that last piece of control. I grew quiet and buried my head
in the pillow to hide my tears. Of course I couldn’t hide them from him
and he wasn’t late to realize what had just happened. Normally I would
have tried to hide my face or maybe push him away. But in this moment I
just couldn’t. There was nothing in me that thought of pride or
anything like it. When he held me close I cried on his shoulder and
sniffled for a while. He stroked my hair back from my face and kept on
stroking it. He told me he was proud of me. At that moment I truly felt
small and vulnerable, but also completely protected and safe.
As
you may understand, we took things a bit easy after that. We spent some
time watching movies, playing games, cooking and sleeping next to each
other. I even got tied up in shibari. I grew very fond of him as a pet
would.
When it was time for me to go home I received a
farewell-punishment of 40 blows with the wooden paddle. I was standing
on my feet, leaning forward, as he laid them on me. My ass was already
red, blue and yellow from the previous days of spanking. I was shaking
and my legs kept on giving in after each blow. In the middle of
everything I found some kind of pride. Every time I fell down I would
get up, angry at my self for falling, I would endure this punishment, I
wasn’t going to give up. The counting made it a lot easier for me to
get thru it. Though, when I got to number 40, I was so much at ease
that I accidentally said 50. He didn’t punish me for it how ever. I had
been good enough. I had marks on my ass that lastet several weeks.
Have a nice day /I
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Written the 29th of July
Losing the uper hand
To all you new readers: This is the third part in my series of diary
entries on how I’m evolving into a sub. This story is written “in the
making” so everything is fresh and true. Enjoy the reading.
I
know that I promised some texts about real bdsm sex here in the third
chapter. But then I remembered that there is a certain period of
getting to know each other before that. So, I wrote this text about how
I got on the Internet and found my first Dom. I also added a part about
our first fight and how we solved it... or more or less how I got over
my fears. We all know that there's a lot to fear, when it comes to the
Internet.
So, this is at the point in my life where I felt ready
to get out and do something. I had tried some simple bdsm-ish things
before, but I wanted more. Since I am a cautious person I did my
research, read a book and so on. So what next? The Internet.
I
became a member of darkside.se and started networking, if you could
call it that. I quickly came across both idiots, morons and also really
nice people. I got a habit of asking people questions and asking for
their guidance. This was particularly good when it came to men that
were too old to attract me, but still very nice people. They also
seemed to find some satisfaction in teaching a young girl, even though
she would never be theirs to play with.
I find that being
straight forward is what works best, especially online. Since it’s in
fact very hard to read anything but words over the Internet. I might
also add that I never participated in mic-chats or cam. I just don’t
like it. I want to meet people up front when I feel ready for it. Some
didn’t respect this and pretty much ditched me because of it. This made
me slightly angry. But then again, if somebody can’t respect that
little opinion. How could they possibly respect my other, probably more
edgy opinions? I usually say that I choose my battles. I don’t have the
need to decide everything all the time. How ever, when I do choose to
fight for something that I believe in, I don’t give up easily.
As
I got in contact with my first Dom, it didn’t take him much time to
realize this. Our first and only fight this far was about speaking with
titles. I found it half annoying and I found the title “Herre” nothing
but ironic and sad. I used to tell him that I wanted to use his name to
remind my self of who I was serving. In which he replied that I should
use the title to indeed remind my self of the fact that I was serving
him. He also pointed out that if I was as servile as I had told him,
carrying out such a simple task shouldn’t be hard for me. Some times
Doms make their subs do silly things, just to show who’s in charge.
This angered me a little as I always need a good reason for doing
things, and that simply wasn’t good enough. As the fight escalated he
told me that if I couldn’t do such a simple thing for him, I wasn’t
suitable any more. This shocked me and made me realize how obviously
important it was to him. Though it did as well puzzle me, why was it so
important? I thought that I should at least try to respect it, since I
did like him. How ever, I was feeling a bit scared of him. Until that
point we had just been friends, discussing the world and only touching
the subject of sex and D/s lightly.
Seeing this adamant side of
him scared me. Would he be this hard on me in every conflict that we
would ever have? I have been in relationships with neglecting and
ignorant men, and sworn never to end up in such a place again. Being
attracted to men with a strong will does indeed have its downsides. To
sound incredibly cheesy I can only add “With great power comes great
responsibility”, hehe.
I was simply afraid of giving up my power
to somebody again. He felt this and respected that fact. Though he did
inform me that in the future things would change, I would change. He
would form me and train me like a little puppy. He would make me into
his own, just the way he wanted me to be.
Those words thrilled
and scared me, maybe more than they thrilled me. But just as with the
argument over the use of titles, I found it comforting in some strange
way. I couldn’t push this guy around and he didn’t lose his temper with
me, even when I tried with all my might. He respected my fear and would
talk to me for hours about it, listening to my silly thoughts. I must
say that there were times when I would almost panic. “How can one ever
judge who’s to be trusted and who is not?” that was the question which
was constantly ringing in my ears. And pretty soon it was ringing in
his ears as well. He didn’t give me any silly answers how ever, he
didn’t assure me of much more than “I want you to feel safe with me and
tell me if something’s bothering you. You can tell me anything.”. I
liked this, because I didn’t want any promises from the heavens and
above. I wanted something simple and true. I wanted a promise that
could be kept for sure.
As we moved on in our argument, I agreed
to try and use the titles. We met half way by at first not using the
title “Herre”, which had bothered me so greatly. In stead we spoke
English and used Sir, or his name when we spoke Swedish. As he saw that
I didn’t have any problems with applying them to my language, he made
he switch to the title of “Herre”.
He called me up one night,
more or less unexpected and made me use the title all the time. That
was the first time we had ever spoken on the phone. I was scared and
also rather fascinated with how deep his voice was. Though that
fascination clearly didn’t out-run my fear. I had to swallow several
times just to get rid of the lump in my throat that had build it self
up. Further more I couldn’t say much except answer his questions of how
I was feeling and so on. As he asked if I was scared I replied that my
adrenalin was pumping, so yes I was pretty scared. He laughed and
seemed pleased with me. We hung up after saying goodnight, and I was
pretty much shaking. I felt like I had just preformed some big task,
and I was proud of my self and very fascinated. Amongst all things I
couldn't stop thinking about his laugh, he seemed so relaxed.
Afterwards he told me that some women were too scared to even talk,
when he called them up on short notice, like he had done with me. He
also said that he liked my voice and how shy I was.
He told me
that the use of that title was only for a trial-period, but he never
told me to stop using it. This angered me a little bit and I told him
that it was a filthy trick. I even pretended to forget about using the
titles as a protest. This did how ever anger him and he gave me a bit
of a lecture “How can I trust your servitude when you’re being
disobedient on purpose?”. At first I talked back, angry, but after a
while I was subdued. I was bowing my head, even though I was just
talking to a computer screen. I was some how so ashamed, even though I
didn't quite understand why. All I knew was that I wanted to make him
happy. And maybe it was worth it to play this seemingly silly game with
the titles. It wasn't such a high price to pay, right?
The fact
that I was giving in more and more scared me. How ever I wasn’t scared
enough to end it all, since I did in fact like him and what he was
doing to me. It all came clear to me when I started listening to Dollie
Llamas podiobook “Diary of and S&M romance”. Where she as a sub
describes her feelings, foremost the happiness she finds in serving her
Dom.
It reminded me of how sweet it was to serve a man. How much
I had longed for it even though I was so scared of being mistreated
again. And some how it melted me enough to allow my self to give in to
him. I’m always watchful, but I do trust him and feel for him. As I
learned to trust him I gave in to the use of titles, though I did some
times ask for permission to not use them. Over time I actually learned
to love the use of the title.
Right now we don’t speak as often
to each other. This is because of our vacations, jobs, school and so
on. How ever, when we do speak and we use the titles, it feels like
we’re back right where we left off. I really does remind me of my roll
towards him.
I know that some people don’t like the use of
titles, that they find it silly. Honestly I don’t know if I’m pro of
against it. I just like using them with my Dom because I know that it
makes him happy. And maybe in some strange way, I find the role play
that appears as a good excuse to be even more subservient to him. As
you may have noticed, I have problems with giving up my power, but this
text is a good example of how it happened once upon a time. It was
indeed this conflict that made me find my roll, by him taking on his
roll towards me. Though I can't express how grateful I am of the fact
that he gave me some time and discussed the whole thing with me. If he
hadn't done so, we probably wouldn't have been able to fix this problem.
So
therefore my greatest advice is this: If you got a problem, talk about
it! The Dominant does have the final say, but the sub always has a
right to discuss and ask questions. If she understands why you're doing
something as a Dominant, she should also understand why she shouldn't
fear you doing this.
Have a nice day /I
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Written the 9th of July
Schoolbooks
To all you new readers: This is the second part in my series of entries
on how I’m evolving into a sub. This story is written “in the making”
so everything is fresh and true. Enjoy the reading.
This second chapter will handle the subject of how I came to know Bdsm thru some happy reading.
I
was interested in psychology from a very early age. When I was about 15
I got my hands on a book that simply went thru “odd” behaviors, like a
sort of dictionary. In that book I tripped over something that made me
rather warm inside and at the same time frightened of my self. What I
had found, in this book of murderers, maniacs and misfits was a slight
conclusion of bdsm.
While writing this I actually took the time
to find that very book on googlebooks. So here’s my first real glance
at sadomasochism. This is the first text that made me feel like I
wasn’t alone… though it did make me wonder if I was crazy. While
reading I might remind you that the book is written in the 70’s so it’s
rather dusty… but then again I still find it amusing, I hope you do
too. Page 85, 86 please.
http://books.google.se/books?id=TdIOAAAAQAAJ&lpg=PP1&pg=PA85
This
planted a seed in my brain and it grew over time. I’m sorry to say that
I couldn’t bloom as a sub at that age. I suppose we could draw the easy
conclusion by saying that neither I nor my boyfriend were mature
enough. Actually I was almost too afraid of touching the subject of
Bdsm. At the time my trust in people, including my boyfriend was
extremely low. So having Bdsm-sex wouldn’t have been too good for me, I
figure. It would just have been me keeping my self from panicking,
instead of trusting somebody else and enjoying it. This is why I now
find trust so ultimately important.
I moved on in relationships,
men and time. I found out more about myself and grew in confidence, as
all young women do… or at least should do. I also grew more found of
the thought of bdsm. In my last relationship I was actually shocked to
find that I was more submissive than my boyfriend was dominant. In the
beginning I found it sort of arousing to have to beg for more spanking
and harder grabbing… but when I realized that he would never be harsh
enough, my jaw dropped. Once again I had to take a closer look at my
self and admit that I wasn’t just a little bit kinky, I was the real
deal.
So, I said goodbye to my history of insecurity and chose
to follow my heart… or vagina. Maybe we should just call it feeling, it
includes them both I think. Anyway after yet another disappointment
with a man that couldn’t match my cravings I started to search the
internet. It resulted in some lousy internet sites, bad porn and my
disappointment. I did actually have some friends who I knew were kinky…
But I felt like they weren’t on my planet anymore. Maybe that was
because I didn’t have the courage to ask them certain things. But I
didn’t really want to ask them “How do you fuck your girlfriend and how
do I find a guy that can fuck me like that?” .
Then one night I got
a little sign, and I may say that if there is a god, I would like to
thank him for this. I’m a firm believer in downloading and I was
floating around in the piratebay as usual. I have a nasty habit of
typing random things, just to see what the hell I end up downloading.
This night I wrote “What do I want”… because I was really wondering
just that. The search engine gave me a load of “How to get what you
want” books” which is a kind of book that I hate, most of them at
least. They’re often about how to suppress one part of you in order to
help another part of you to grow. Such as forgetting about your needs
in order to become a better worker, partner or wife… Though that sounds
a bit submissive, I still don’t like the sound of it. At least I don’t
like the fact that non kinky people do it. Since those books made me
all icky I change the search into “What want”. It gave me similar
results, including the movie “What women want”, which made me laugh out
loud. But as I scrolled down I found something out of the ordinary, and
with the large letters it was pretty easy to see the title “HOW TO FUCK
A WOMANS BRAINS OUT” by Thorndaddy and Dollie Llama. This got me
laughing as well and I choose to download it, thinking “bring it on”. I
assumed that it would just be another semi-good book about sex,
relations or how to trick women into bed. But boy was I wrong.
So,
here’s my little commercial in the middle of everything. I’m writing
this because I really do love the books that this couple writes. I
really like their attitude, their sweet humor and of course all the
dirty talk about bdsm sex. I don’t agree to all the things that they
say and I don’t think that anybody else does that either. That’s
because the book is very personal, it’s not just education, it’s a part
of their lives. Some might find this annoying, to hear not just about
all sorts of sexual preferences, but to in detail hear about their
preferences. To not just hear about a lot of ways to do bdsm sex, but
to hear about their specific way of having Bdsm sex. How ever, I think
that this is exactly what people need to hear, because it gives a
greater deal of understanding. It gives you the whole picture.
“HOW
TO FUCK A WOMANS BRAINS OUT” Is written by a Dom who calls him self
Thorndaddy. In it he speaks of his life in combination with bdsm. He
has a 24/7 relationship with Dollie Llama, his sub. They live together,
fuck a lot and play with other girls as well. They’re both very
intelligent and as I said they have a great sense of humor. In the book
they/he talks about sex and relationships the Bdsm way. For example how
to find and educate a sub, how to fuck and treat your sub into heavenly
bliss and so on. There’s a lot of sexual and mental tips, so I think
it’s a good reading for anybody who’s interested in bdsm. The book
speaks a lot of how to “fuck your bitches with respect” and I think
that’s a part that everybody should know about. Even if you think you
know it all, it’s always good to have a quick reminder. The sub Dollie
Llama also wrote a book called “Diary of an S&M romance” which is a
charming documentation on their relationship. The book also gives you a
great view from the female sub’s side of the story. It’s a bit of a
fairytale, but I don’t think that it would bore people who don’t like
silly love stories. After all, how many love stories have lines like
“and then he pummeled my ass raw until I cried and…[and so on]”?
Just
for fun, I might add that I gave “HOW TO FUCK A WOMANS BRAINS OUT” to
my ex boyfriend. Simply because I wanted to see if it would awaken
something in him. How ever it mostly just disturbed his family trip. He
had downloaded it as an audiobook and listened to it while traveling in
his home country with his grandfather. Personally I think it’s very
rude to listen to an audiobook while your old folks are trying to teach
you things about your heritage. Anyway he said it was rather
disturbingly amusing to hear "I gave her an enema and sat her down on
the toilet. I told her what a bad girl she had been while she had to
try and keep it all in.” while his grandfather was talking about the
good ol’ days.
So, these were my “schoolbooks” as I like to call
them. I still keep the books of Thorndaddy and Dollie Llama as
audiofiles in both my Ipod and my phone. It’s really nice so switch
them on when I get on the bus early in the morning and I feel sort of
grumpy. Believe me, it’s the greatest wake-up call ever to hear a man
talk lovingly about how he abuses his wife in bdsm. It makes me all
warm inside and I just want to cuddle my fellow bus passengers all
over… though I never do, of course.
Have a nice day /I
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Written the 29th of June
For starters
I though I should give you some background info.
I
might just start with how I got into bdsm. I've always felt a slight
sensation when thinking of torture, violent sex and dominant behavior.
It has always sent a shiver down my spine to watch such scenes in
movies and books. This doesn't mean that I my self am that extreme, for
example I don't like edge/knifeplay or shouting. When I was little I
even went so far as to tie myself and my friends down, when playing
games. When I was alone, at the age of 10, I would wrap my self in
ropes, leaving marks on my legs and arm. It all fascinated me and I
dreamed of the day that I would meet a dominant man. Though I didn't
use that phrase of course. I simply thought of "him" as a down to
earth, sharp, close to mean and with a strong will. At the time I
didn't see forceful behavior as anything bad. As I grew up and got in
contact with feminism I started to question this. Though I couldn't
quite let go of that image. The though of having somebody pushing me up
against a wall, while kissing me. Or chasing me through some place, to
later punish me for something I had done wrong. I even had diffuse
thoughts of humiliation. For example to get my head pushed down in
mud... You must remember that I was a child when thinking of this...
Now a days I wouldn't be very happy about getting my face full of
mud... Though it might change over time, haha.
As I said, I
couldn't get that image out of my head. I was sexually active from a
very early age. The time between my discovering of sexual stimulation
and loosing my virginity seemed like an eternity. But then one day, I
met my first boyfriend. I was only 14 and sick and tired of guys. All
the guys I knew were childish and undeveloped. So when this broad
shouldered, sporty and yet cultivated guy walked into my world. My
heart jumped and I felt a chill down my spine. I still get that
reaction when I meet a guy that strikes my fancy. I don't know how to
express it, but they simply radiate dominance. I can try to describe
it, but please do have some reservations. Everybody's different, I know
that, but this is my opinion.
Okay, let's start, what I mean by radiating dominance:
The
first thing to reach one is obviously the visual impression. This is a
fact, even if I've met a person online. Meeting somebody online makes
the meeting more interesting, but not less exciting or visually
vibrant. This is connected to looks, but even more to body language.
The man that I appreciate has a very calm and friendly way, but with a
rock solid will behind that. He walks in his own pace, often calm,
steady, with a straight posture. He never cowers back from me, if I
were to do anything threatening to him. His way of walking radiates no
stress, but pride and satisfaction. It's always rather clear that he's
satisfied with just being him, or at least satisfied with some part of
himself. This means that he doesn't feel a need to change, nor a need
of me. Of course he needs some subservient person, but he's not
desperate. This makes him clearly different from most vanilla men or
simply insecure guys. I find insecurity a great turn-off. If he wants
something, he will tell me so or force me… there’s no plea or hope in
his eyes. In his eyes I can only see his secure faith in him self. He
knows that he can have me, that he disserves a girl like me. That is,
he doesn't act like he's better than me, but as if he knows what's best
for me. You must know the difference between those two, because it
makes a lot of difference for a sub. Now, maybe all subs aren't as
watchful as I am, but it's still an important way of thinking. Just
because you're dominant, it doesn't make you a better person by
automatics. As I once said, when I was pissed of at a group of men on
darkside "If I were to obey every man in here, I would be dead by
now!". It doesn't mean that you're all psychopaths. It simply means
that I can't obey every god damn dominant man in this world, it would
crush me into smitherines!
So, if you ever wonder why a girl
doesn't automatically obey you... just because she's a sub. You might
want to take that in consideration... as well as the fact that she's a
thinking human being. Also, if a girl gives you a nasty reaction... I
can only say that you men as a group have created this behavior. I try
to be nice towards men, to send them off with a smile and kind words.
But when I notice that they haven't even read my short presentation...
it pisses me off. You may say that I have a bit of an attitude, but
consider this: If she's supposed to give you all her respect and trust.
Then can't you at least respect her enough to know a thing or two about
her? I promise you that dominating somebody that you know, is ten times
as fun as dominating a stranger. That way you can push her buttons and
make both you and her happy. I know she's there to make you happy, but
come on… thinking that way will not work in the long run. So, be nice
to your sub or sub-to-be. To finish this part off I just want to give
you a shining unretouched example of bad Dom behavior and how it makes
me as a sub angry. This is a conversation I had very recently:
"-Fråga: Hur går dina tankar kring 24/7 och tpe?
-24/7 är något som jag finner intressant men avlägset. Begreppet tpe har jag inte koll på.
-tpe=
total power exchange..dvs den extremaste formen av 24/7.... Avlägset
därför att ? varför skulle du bli en bra slavinna tror du?
-Läs mitt info, konversationen är avslutad.
-lugnt...söker bara äkta slavinnor...hobbysmiskare är måttligt intressanta..."
Right
now I don't know if I have anything further do add, on the subject of
my background. I've had a lot of luck and at the same time a lot of bad
luck... my life simply has a lot of ups and downs. And it doesn't
depend on my mood; I'm not that sort of girl. I like to be in control
of my self, my emotions, my body and my life. I only give that control
over when I totally trust somebody. So I guess we can finish this off
by saying that since my sexual premier at 14. I've had quite a lot of
sex, with a small group of people, that I've loved. I'm not sexually
inexperienced and I know a lot about people in general. I do as well
have some experiences of bdsm, but I'll talk about that in the next
chapters.
Thank you for reading /I
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| Age: 20 |
| Newyork,
New York |
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