There have been many times when I have wondered if I am dominant, submissive or maybe a switch. I guess everyone when they enter the scene think the same thoughts. Am I normal? Should I be doing this? Waht would my friends and family think? But in all of us there is a driving, unswerving force that makes us feel the need to seek the answers that we ask ourselves. For me, I first entered the scene and labelled myslef a switch. After all I was new to the scene and didn’t want to rule anything out. I didn’t kow what it meant to submit to someone, or to control someone and wanted to explore everything in order to find out exaclty what it was that drove me to this point – wanting to explore all the so called “deviant” and “wrong” experiences that modern society tells me I shouldn’t.
So it was one evening when I turned up at the house of a Mistress I had spoken to online for several months and met a couple of times at fetish clubs. Of course I was nervous, apprehensive, scared and shocked that I found myself ringing the doorbell. What lay inside? Would I be beaten to within an inch of my life, would I be the victim of a sadistic Mistres who knew no mercy? Or would I enjoy it. The thought of the last feeling forced me to press the doorbell. I knew that I had to, and I pressed it functionally, without thinking about it. The doorbell was just pressed.
My Mistress answered the door, and after the usual initial pleasntries, I was led upstairs to the bathroom where I was to take a shower. Taking of my clothes was like stripping of the shackles of the outside world.
Inside this house there were no rules that the outside world new or accepted. Just the rules that my Mistres laid down and which were the reasons why I was here. Once I stripped myself naked, and my Mistress had feasted her eyes on my naked body in its raw honesty, I took a shower. Once I had remove my clothes, I felt calmer, more relaxed. It had begun, and this was what I wanted. She stood there whilst I took a shower exactly how I would if she wasn’t there. She gave me some wine to calm me down. She could see that I was nervous and reacted accordingly. Once I had showered myself, Mistress showed me the leather mask that I was to wear.
The mask of submission, the mask that allowed me a certain place that I could be myself and lose myself in the situations that were to follow. Standing there naked whilst Mistress strapped the mask to my face was an incredibly relaxing experience.
I was hers now. I was hers to do with as she pleased. She had seen me naked, and she knew why I was here. I was stripped down to my most naked level. A level that I had never been stripped down to before, and it felt incredibly liberating.
In most of my experiences with women before I felt embarrassed about them seeing me naked, but with Mistress, I wanted her to see me in my most natural state. I belonged to her now and I wanted her to see me exactly how I am. Mistress covered my eyes with a leather blindfold and led me naked by a chain from my collar down the stairs into the room that I had not seen. I did not care.
This was what I wanted. To give up control to someone who did not judge me and used me for her pleasue, and her pleasure alone. Mistress bent me over a waist high A-frame and tied my wrists and ankles with rubber bindings so that I could not move. Mistress then started to flog me, slowly at first to warm me up. I knew this and that this was just the pre-cursor to what was to follow. I do not like pain but in my relaxed state I endured and enjoyed it. The flogging melted into the paddle, and then the cane, during which for the first and only time I invoked the safe word, which Mistress respected totally. Mistress then moved onto tickling which she knew was my weak point. I beared it as much as I could and we both derived much pleasure from it in totally opposite ways.
I was slowly but surely becoming hers, and we knew it. Mistress knew I was fighting it, bt we both knew that it was only a matter of time before I totally submitted to her. Mistress gave me some more wine. Not much, just enough to settle me down, and then made me stand naked, masked and blidfolded in the centre of the room whilst she tied me with rope in a small harness, before I was made to kneel in front of her.
Mistressed teased me by rubbing her nipples against my lips. Oh, how much I wanted to suck them and feel safe, but she teased me and would not let me. Mistress then laid me front down onto a bench where I was duly flogged again, tickled and bitten. I did not react now as much as I had done earlier. My will to resist was being slowly worn down and I was bit by bit learning why I had felt the yearning to submit. I was then put flat onto the floor.
Mistress bit my nipples, and kissed me, teased me. Mistress knew what she was doing and how I was going to react.
Mistress then laid me back on the bench and tied my naked body in her ropes. My arms and hands were secured into the praying position. Mistress tied her ropes around my body, arms and legs until I was totally secured and could not move. The ropes felt comforting and I was totally relaxed in the knowledge that I could not move. Freedom within bondage is a phrase that I now understand, and a lesson that Mistress taught me.
By now, I was Mistress’s to do with as she pleased. I trusted her. She had done things to me that no one else had dared do, and that I had not dared anyone else do to me. I enjoyed it and lapped it up like a young puppy slowly discvering that the world actually existed.
Mistress then used me for her pleasure. The exact things she used me for are inconsequential to me, as by now I trusted her completely. I remember certain things like her thrusting raw ginger down the opening of my penis, and her driving a screwdriver into my glans.
To me, this felt like pleasure. If you had asked me earlier about these things I would have run a hundred miles, but in this situation I endured and enjoyed it.
This was why I had pressed the doorbell, this was why I was here.
This was what I had fantasised about all those years, and now it was reality it felt incredibly fulfilling. Relaxing. Comforting.
Mistress then asked me about needle play. I was worried about hygiene, but Mistress expalined to me the course that she had been on and how she knew how to play safely. As a trained first aid responder, I agreed that she knew what she was doing.
I had neve played with needles before, and neither myself nor Mistress had intended to play with them that night. We were both glad we did. Mistress pierced me sixteen times in a semi-circle from nipple to nipple. Each piercing was a mixture of pain, then pleasure. I hate needles and cnnot stand any injection, yet this I enjoyed. The joy that Mistress got out of adorning me with her needles joined with the satisfaction that I got from enduring the slight pain and knowing that I was making her happy. For the last needle I asked Mistress to pierce my nipple.
Mistress did this and amongst several pictures took one of her needle through my nipple. By now I was for the first time totally submissive.
We both knew that until now, I had resisted. But now I belonged to her, my only “her”. There was no coming back fromwhat we had shared together and what we had given to each other. This was how it should be.
We shared something very special together, and had given each other far more in one evening than most people give each other in a lifetime.
Although I am far away now, in a foreign country, I still remember back to that one special night, where I lived my fantises, and they were fulfilled totally. Too many people dream about them without allowing them to come true.
For me, they came true, and I always carry around a smile on my face in remembrance of that one special night I was allowed to spend with Mistress. Thankyou.........
