Kept

He asked me to pick him up from the International Airport. The last time I’d seen him, it was far too short a visit. Three days after a year, just seemed a vicious tease. He’d asked only for me to meet him at SFO. I needed to be in heels, dress or skirt and my auburn hair down.

It took forever to find a dress that I wanted to wear only for him. I wanted just the right color. The right look which says, I’m classy yet I’m just enough of a slut for you. What caught my eye? A red printed dress, soft ruffles on the bottom, with a V-cut that showed just enough cleavage that I know would get a thankful nod.

I sat and waited, fidgeting with the hem of my skirt. Why was I so nervous? Crossing my legs and uncrossing, I could feel the hemline move higher. I pulled out a book but that didn’t help, I just wanted him. He’d said he had something special. But wouldn’t tell me what, I hated when he did that. The book was quickly thrown back into my purse.

I ran my hands up the sides of my ivory arms, it was cold in there. My phone vibrated softly against my leg, a new text just delivered. Stand up, it read. I did. The hemline fell softly, ruffles bounced as they landed in their place. Turning around, I looked for him. It took a moment to spot his round glasses and smiling face. Ivory skin turned pink as I smiled back. He was one of only a handful of men that could make me glow and blush at the same time.

His dark brown, leather briefcase between his feet, hands entwined in the back of my hair, he kissed sweetly. He tugged my head to the side, exposing my neck to his tender lips which nipped. Picking up the briefcase, he held my hand. I wasn’t going anywhere he knew that. But the simple act of holding me in place brought me into my space. This was where I belonged.

My heart skipped as I looked down to see in his hand smooth, polished steel. His hand released me as he slid the collar around my neck. I bent my head forward, hair falling in my face, so he could lock it in place.

A crowd gathered witnessing this tender moment and all I could focus on was my Master’s eyes as he looked through my soul.

Healing

I’ve been dark for a while. After the previous blog post—which I emailed to Sir—things have been wonderful. I wish I could relate to you how elated I am. But apparently I express myself with clarity only when extremely angry.

I sent the post via email to Sir. It was the only way that I could express how much he had hurt me. Surprisingly he responded quickly. He was hurt, well saddened. He hadn’t meant to hurt me as badly as he did. The only reason he wanted to let me go was simply because he didn’t want to be selfish. After all he didn’t know how long he would be in London. I understood this but didn’t/don’t want to be under anyone but him. And as for being selfish, hell, I’m the most unselfish person I know. I tell him to be selfish for both of us.

Clouds part, smiles ensue. Things like this don’t happen every day. When you find someone who you click with, you tend to hold on and hope the ride is longer than eight seconds.

Don’t get me wrong, it hasn’t been all smiles and sunshine. There was a long week of slow communication in which after each email I was in tears. My writing group gave me hugs and cheered for my writing what they wanted to say. But in the end, it was through those words I wanted to hurt him with that our healing process began. I can’t stress how important communication is in a D/s relationship.

So for now, I am beside myself with giddy, girly, happiness. And honestly, he is the first Dom that I actually see myself saying yes if he decided he wanted to collar me.

Heartbreak

Today is the first time I’ve ever cried. That is, it’s the first time my heart has been broken. Sure I’ve had relationships which I’ve cared for the other quite deeply. However, my heart shattered—rock through a window—with an email.

I’m not going to give you all the back story. Just know that we are locked in a perpetual state of almost. I thought that we moved into finally but his work intervened and took us back to almost. There was a week of communication darkness. I had to fill in the blanks with justifications. He’s busy, working hard. New York time is different than California time. Not just in time zones but New York has its own center of gravity which makes the universe move quicker when inside. All you can do to survive is to hold on.

I watched as my heart it started the spaghettification process. Pieces pulled painfully as one week turned to two. An email confirming my justifications, yet promises in the not so far future. He’ll be in town for the weekend. I offer up myself. I don’t mind forgoing my trip to San Francisco if I can spend it with him. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for the stars to align letting us develop from mentor and friend into committed relationship.

He wants me to go to San Francisco. “A well needed rest for you,” he says. A hairline fracture splintered in my heart. I do as he suggests, I always do.

It’s Monday and back to New York he goes. Transmissions garbled. Communication lost. All systems dark and another week slipped by. I know he reads my emails but I’ve never wanted to be ‘that’ girl. That girl, which emails every day, sometimes twice a day to show affection. It reads desperate, even if that’s how I feel, I don’t. He doesn’t need my ego stroking. However, I do email conveying my support of what he’s doing. In the long run it will be good for me too. I show that I’m functioning well without him, as I know it would make him proud. Another week of darkness passes. I’m dangling precariously on a mental chasm trying to figure out what to do. His name pops into my phone, a new email. He’s in London.

He explains away his absence, which is perfectly understandable. However, the third sentence confirms my fear. “I think I need to focus on this now, if I spend the next few months…I have really set everything in motion for what I have always wanted.” Tears well up, “I am sorry this was not what I had planned for us, I had great plans.” So did I. “Things shifted a bit, I cannot ask you to wait.”

The letter goes on; it is a magnificent ‘I love you but…’ letter. Tears, which I do not show to anyone, flow freely. I didn’t think words could hurt that much.

I tell him I’ve been seeing someone. A half truth, I don’t think there is a man in the work that can make me feel as good as he did. But I wanted my words to hurt too. Words, at this point, are all I have. But he sees through the thinly veiled attempt. He knows it’s not true. And I confess that no matter who I am with, I will always want him.

The difference between a Sir and a boyfriend

Many people wonder what draws one to the choice of distinguishing the difference between a Sir or boyfriend. There have been many times when I myself have had a hard time distinguishing the lines: as there are a lot of lines that blur while considering a D/s or M/s relationship. I’ve even had a few people tell me that there is not a need to classify who you are. You can simply be you while having freaky sex. And while I do agree with this, I’ve found – and this is my opinion – that when the roles are not defined, many times messages get mixed. Feelings twisted. And the heart breaks. However, they all are relationships, and yes, many D/s M/s relationships don’t work out either. Though, it’s rarely because the two individuals didn’t understand the mixed messages that they were sending each other. The distinct clarity of who is who in the relationship brings a measure of order.

At another time I will discuss the emotional need for a pecking order and how out of balance society has become by their blatant ignoring of this balance. But for now I will say that we all have a desire to know our place.

In the boyfriend and girlfriend relationship, from my experience – there is an equal partnership that really has no definition of who wears the pants. I’ll give you an example. While talking to my brother recently, he expressed to me his anguish over his wife’s direction in life. How she seemed to still want a party life but they now have a beautiful child. I asked him how she would react if he told her that they needed to move away from that lifestyle. He related that she would lash out and party even more because, ‘no one can hold her down.’ To which I replied and asked if it would be good for the family for her to cut back. He nodded and agreed that it would, but when I pressed the issue of who is the ‘head’ of the house; he stated just as plain as day, ‘we both have a leg in the family pants.’

In a Dominate submissive relationship one person takes the lead. Both of his or her legs are in the pants, there is no way the direction can be split. The Dominate – whether male or female – is taking on the role of protector, decision maker, and the responsibilities that that entails. While the other, the submissive – being liberated from that responsibility – can grow and blossom into the person that they truly are.

When these roles are clearly defined, life is simpler. The relationship is still a relationship; much like regular boyfriend/girlfriend interactions. However, the bottom line is this: when the submissive trusts the Dominate his decisions are final. And while sex is not always a part of a D/s relationship, there are still ways of proving your obedience to a Sir. Whether that is in an exhibitionist manner or a private affair – these demonstrations are wherein the fun lies.

Respect: For Dom/sub relations it's a 2 way street

I think I need to preference this with the fact that even though I am a sub, I am picky – very picky. Now it’s not just Doms, I am picky with whom I allow in my life and whom I think is worthy of my company. This may seem I don’t know self-righteous for a submissive, however before I found out that this lifestyle was my calling, I was a little careless with my choices. And thus become pickier.

Contention point one; I do not read messages that start with, 'ur so h0t!' While yes the person behind this particular faux pas may be an intelligent human, brilliant even – but that does not excuse simple grammar etiquette. I don’t know of any woman who swoons at reprehensible word choices whether spoken or written.

Contention point two; if you as a Dom expect me to respect you, why would I -- a submissive, who has no idea who you are or what you are like -- expect to be treated with anything less than a mutual respect? You have to prove that you are my superior. It is not something that is just given to you. With that, it must also be noted – if you ask me, ‘have you read my profile,’ you better reply that you enjoyed reading mine.

Now, with that water under the bridge, I find myself amused by a conversation started on Fetlife with me. I won’t mention the name, because let’s face it, we all would Google it. But it started out ever so friendly, he wanted to network. Hey, I’m all about networking; I have a strong social network of Doms/subs, of work colleagues and friends. Not all of them know of my submissive side, nor would they ever expect it so likewise I am on guard with those who wish to enter my network. His reply -- as you may have guessed -- was to the tune of, 'have you read my profile.'

I had.

Oh his profile was a very long drawn out 1,600 word explanation of his perfect submissive/slave. I hit some of the marks, but only a handful. Which is why when he asked if I wanted to network, stupid me – I thought it was for something more than what he had written. After all the end of his 'essay' stated;

"If you reply to this ad and fail to get a response, it’s most likely because you didn’t send a well thought out response, as well as a picture (i.e. or, the promise of a picture later, and, in the meantime, a vivid description of yourself). Your first reply is vital to whether you will get a response as I only consider positive energy."

And so I replied in as well thought out response as I could:

I did however; it looks like you are looking for a sub. And while yes, I am a sub -- I have a Sir as noted on my profile.

I am not a manic, pixie dream girl you describe. I have curves, beautiful lovely curves, which includes my pert wonderful 38DD's. And interestingly enough, this morning at 3AM I woke to my Sir, asking me to cum for him over the phone. He was out of town for Thanksgiving which I -- of course -- gladly did.

Then too there are your descriptions of her oral fixations. Holding her there only several minutes after cumming? I gladly offer my mouth for Sir's pleasure whether that is for a quick fuck or a night’s sleep with him planted firmly in it.
As for my Sir, I do have that animalistic desire for him. Even though my in the community I have a high profile if he asked it, I would get on my knees and suck him until he was pleased. No matter what the situation -- I am here to please him.
Sir enjoys my career, enjoys my independence and the subsequent relinquishment of my power to him. I'm very glad that he pushes me in the directions that he thinks is best for me.

My actions in public can only be described as sophisticated. I am 5'8" and Sir is 6'3" so per his wishes I tend to always be in 4" high heels. I am poised, confident and always conscious of my Sir's needs when with him. The community thinks of me as the local Lifestyle Guru, so yes I am well spoken and respected.

With that said, I ask if you've read my profile. If you understand that I am a writer by profession. I am an established writer -- as in that is my career. I am in a D/s relationship, and I'm devoted to my Sir. So, I ask once more -- what are you looking to network for?

Now I do understand that you are really only getting half of the conversation, and if you are a member of fetlife I’ll gladly give you a link to the awesome that is his profile. And as a sidenote, he still has not responded. So I’m sorry to say that my response was clearly not as creative as he deemed worthy.

Look at the Garden

Plants that are beautiful can have underlying venom that kills a bit of you every time you touch them.

My on again off again relationship with the D/s community was slowly but surely growing into a fling. I found myself interacting more and more with a few Doms that understood that I was still just entering into this world. However, the first actual, consensual D/s relationship was not with one of these ‘respectful’ Doms. It was with a very hot man that I found so attractive that I wanted to basically do anything he wanted, whenever he wanted. That was my downfall.

You see any true Dom will tell you that they are the protection between a sub and their downfalls. They push when necessary but never when it is unsafe for the little sub’s physical or mental health. This was not the case for the Master I had chosen.

While at home things were fine - I did the things that he asked, with pleasure. Posed in the positions he wanted, used the word cunt to myself rather than my preferred word of choice, pussy. He used me over the phone as he saw fit, and I was happy to do all of this. However, when I was grocery shopping, he wanted me to call myself slut, cunt, and a variety of other things while on the phone with him. It was not because he wanted to push me, it was simply because he wanted me to feel the embarrassment and the public humiliation. He would wait until I was checking out and have me say these things.

I’ll be the first to tell you that there is public humiliation, and then there is PUBLIC HUMILIATION. As a Dom, there is a difference between public humiliations when you are with your sub and just public humiliation. In this instance it was simply for him to ‘knock me down’. As I’ve stated before, I have a public persona that is much different than my private life. However, when I am with (as in the presence of) my Master/Sir, I am much more willing to have public humiliation done. He would know the situation, the players and the outcome – then deem it worthy or not of play.

I may just be a different bread of submissive, but I have a hard time swallowing things that are done just for the purity to knock a person down. In my own experiences I have found that those women or men that are strong willed in life understand what they are giving up when they submit. It has always made for a more attractive submission when used correctly.

When public humiliation is used as a way to break a person into submission I personally feel it is wrong. Though, I let it continue for a while because, at the time, I thought that was what submission was. In me was the need to submit, but at this time, there was a gut feeling that told me it was wrong. So I ran. Looking back I realized that this was the right thing to do. If I were to still be in that relationship, all my public contacts and responsibilities would be nonexistent. And like some poor subs that I know of, I would be completely monetarily reliant on my Master/Sir something any sub or slave should never be.

-niccy

My Current Sir

I do apologize for jumping ahead a bit, but I needed to talk about my current owner. While he has yet to formally collar me, I feel that He owns me. Surely most subs feel the same way when they are undergoing a new relationship. See about four months ago I started talking to my current Sir. After talking for a few weeks I approached Him with a problem, an old Dom that I was working with had abandoned me. It was not expected, in fact it crushed me because we had really been getting along. He was training me and molding me to become his. And I had already found myself looking at him as if he was going to be a long term Dom. When he cut me off, abandoning me to the other men who took it on themselves to use me because of the void I was feeling, well I fell hard. After sorting out the after mass I started talking to two Doms, one from the UK and one from San Francisco. Both were very similar in styles and suited my kinks very well. However, San Francisco was much closer than the UK. After much thought I decided to go ahead and try to make it work with the San Francisco Dom. After all he helped me to stop the Dom from above from trying to rekindle a relationship that was clearly toxic. At that point he told me that He was training me. I smiled so broadly because, I realized that I really wanted to be trained by him!

Sir surprised me in many ways. At first it was the simple gestures as a woman that I appreciated. He listened to my wishes. What I can, can’t, and will not do in certain places. How the need to be discreet -- since my current profession was somewhat in the public eye -- was important. Yes, many may think well this is of course how a Dom should act. However, during my period of self-loss, there were a few that had used me more publicly than I wished. I know I should have been more careful but I just wanted to obey my Sir’s wishes at that time. Growing a bit I’ve realized that no matter how much I want to obey, I cannot be detrimental to myself mentally or at the cost of my job security. I told this to my Sir and he agreed with me. Since then we have grown closer. It’s an odd thing to know so surely that you want to serve someone.

So beyond the glowing recommendation that I’ve obviously just given I must continue. You see, the last couple of days (almost a week) we’ve been missing each other. Both of us have had very busy days because of jobs and such. Full schedules are either the death or a strengthening test of any relationship. However, the last time we spoke -- once we were done and ready to go to bed -- He told me to sleep that night, on the floor next to my bed as if He were there. Of course He told me to have a comforter and pillows but still, the fact was that He was asking me to sleep on the floor, next to my expensive very comfortable bed. I didn’t think twice about it. It made me realize that I really do like, dare I say love His training.

For the last three days I’ve slept on the floor wishing I could have spoken to him at some point through the day. And somehow I think once I talk to him; on the days we are not able to talk He will have me sleeping next to him, on the floor.

Regards,
niccy