Trust

Meeting someone new they are given the benefit of the doubt and trust is given.  Trust them with your life? No, not that much.  Trust them enough to get to know more? Yes, that is exactly how much.  Trust begins right about there and in the moment we meet.  Trust grows each time we interact.  Trust grows with each promise kept, secret shared and as our feelings grow for the person. 

This dynamic of learning a new person always brings to mind the tales told during childhood and I feel as though the choice being made is really to decide if he is the big bad wolf or the knight on his horse.  The lesson from those tales told to us as children isn't that someone rescued the young lady in the end.  No, there may not always be a fairy godmother or a wood cutter nearby to save the day.  In my opinion, the true lesson to be remembered from these tales is the young ladies seemed to sense something was amiss in time to save herself and proceeded anyway.  Snow White was not comfortable around the old hag.  Red Riding Hood noticed all was not right with Grandma. 

Should you hear warning bells trust yourself.  Uncomfortable at all in his presence?  Don't be alone with him for any reason.  See some red flags?  Don't ignore them because of this D/s dynamic.  Speak up.  We are submissive.  We are not mute doormats.  Submission is ours to give because we want to give it, because want him to have it and because he is worthy of the gift just as we honored by him.

Open

From the time we are children it seems we are taught to hold back and filter what we say.  Even before the term was coined our parents were teaching us to be politically correct, at least if we were to be a part of polite society.  For young ladies that teaching goes even a step further as there are topics we simply do not discuss and certain emotions you are taught to control in order to be appropriate as you conduct yourself correctly and politely. 

Society at large has expectations of a lady.  A lady is always polite.  She does not swear.  She is educated.  She is well read.  She is caring.  She is in control of herself.  She thinks before speaking.  It is my opinion that all of this has served me well throughout life.   I do not regret living up to these expectations.

When Sir came into my life he asked me to open up to him.  He wanted to be trusted at a level beyond what others before him had been trusted.  He was willing to earn this trust by being open and honest in return with me.  He was asking me not to change so much as to remove my filters and let my guard down with him.  Could I do this?  Could I allow myself to be raw with another person?  Allow him to possibly see me in lights that were unflattering and without polish?  Was I going to be able to discuss those topics with him that I had been raised to think were off limits to ladies?  Oh I wanted to do it all.  I found that I was frightened by the prospect however filled with such a deep desire to be known by him that I was more  willing to open up to him than to say no to his request.  Sir assured me that the rewards would be tenfold and he has been correct as this as strengthened our bond. 

I struggle at times since it is first nature to close off and think before speaking however speaking with him first is becoming my second nature.

What's In A Name?

A rather famous question and age old question I ask today.  The very famous line I quote is from William Shakespeare's pen.  Juliet questions from the balcony regarding her new found love and why he has to be Romeo as that name is her enemy.  She surmises that a rose would smell just as sweet if it had another name and the same must be true for her beloved. 

My wonder is along the same lines, that power held in the giving and the calling of a name.  Sir has a name he uses with me, or more correctly for me, that is only known between us.  When I am called it my heart takes flight.  I can feel his possession of me begin even if I am only reading in an email or text.  You see I don't even have to hear him speak it to feel the power of the name.  My day maybe full of hectic and rushed professional tasks yet that one word from him slices through all that clutter and instantly calm begins to fill my day.  There certainly is power in a name given and called. 

Prude?

How can I like a word I once hated?  A word I would have fought against being called once.  How can I now treasure it? 

Along this journey I have found myself having to confront several things that make me uncomfortable.  Although I was regarded in a delicate light as I mentioned before, I wouldn’t have labeled myself a prude.  I was open to new ideas.  Not only was my behavior not prudish, my thinking wasn’t prudish or so I thought until I was put to the test.  I believed in keeping an open mind and then he said certain words to me.  Words like pet, collar, leash, slut, fuck and my mind scrambled to keep up because it wanted to put the brakes on.  Me a pet?  Me in a collar?  Me a slut?  Excuse me?  Just who do you think you are talking to...Sir? 

Slut.  I’ll focus solely on the part of my journey with that little four letter word and my confrontation with it.  You see I am an intelligent woman. I am not a slut.  I do not sleep around.  I take the decision to go to bed with a man very seriously.  That was the soundtrack playing in my head as Sir called me slut and it was on constant repeat.  How dare he label me otherwise!  I could see my inner feminist just shaking her head at him.  Oh she wanted a piece of him for calling me that.  What she wouldn’t have done to just have five minutes alone with him until the moment he added one little magical word to the mix…my.  My slut.  Well if that doesn’t just change the whole dynamic.  Not just any slut but his slut.  His personal slut willing to do anything for him whenever and where ever he desires it.  It is hard not to go along with that.  Turns out I am a slut and it turns out I am proud of it too.  Now if you call me a slut I’ll wear it like a badge of honor.  Yes, for the right man I am absolutely a slut.  I am willing to do anything for him whenever and where ever he desires it. 

Naive Corner

I stood in a naive corner for years.  From that corner the world looked a certain way, almost two dimensional if you will.  It had no depth.  I sought to discover that depth.  I traveled.  I read.  I worked.  As I sought out this depth to my life, I could see when others had found it for themselves by that glimmer in their eyes or  joy in their voice you simply hear.  I wasn't necessarily unhappy as I sought this depth out for my life, I merely felt a constant hunger.  A hunger nothing could satisfy.  No one I loved seemed to be the one.  I fell to using the cliche of,  "it isn't you, it is me" more than once simply because I found it was true.  It wasn't them, it really was me and I shouldn't have wasted their time.  If only I had realized what I was questing for and hungering to find.  I was looking for my submissive self all those years and it took a Dominant to help me find it.

Answers Come

I look at this and I feel it.  I feel the cold floor underneath my heated skin as I wait.  I wait for you to instruct me to uncross my legs.  You and I both know you want to see all.  You want the view of all that is kept from you and I want your gaze upon me.  I feel your hands as they tug at the laces telling me in that voice to again reveal myself to your gaze.  You want nothing blocking me from your view.  Your view of what belongs to you and I need to give it to you.  All of it.  Each part of me I need to give to you.  Take it. Take me.  Allow me to give it.

Yes, as I look upon this photo I know clearly some of the answers to my earlier questions.  I know what I need.  I know what I have to have.  What exactly I cannot live without.  Seems this little journey maybe a one way street with not chance of return to that naive little corner where I once stood wondering quietly with all my what ifs and buts.

Sometimes

Sometimes we are lucky enough to know that our lives have been changed, to discard the old, embrace the new, and turn headlong down an immutable course. 

Jacques Cousteau

Reading that brought so many questions to my mind...

Am I lucky enough to see that my life has been changed?  Discovering and admitting that I am submissive has changed me.  I have to ask do I feel lucky in that change and increased knowledge of myself? 

Am I willing to discard the old?  Change?  Oh, how we humans don't like that at all.  Change can be so very scary and if I feel lucky with this change in my life does that mean I must welcome it and also welcome the discarding of the old?

Then I must also admit to myself if I keep stepping in the directions of it, of D/s, then there really is no going back.  It is an immutable course.  After tasting the delights to be had at the hand of a Dom could I really return to the vanilla world?  Would I really want to return to a world that offered only one flavor?

I haven't all the answers at this point.  Actually I don't know that I have any of them.  I am willing to work through the clutter in my head to find them though.