The trip made me very nervous. I was excited to explore what it meant to be submissive. But I wasn’t sure exactly how that would be, whether I would like it. Had Master just put ideas in my head, or am I actually submissive?  In our txt conversations he was teaching me that I had no responsibilities other than to do whatever he told me. I didn’t have to think for myself. I shouldn’t think for myself. My only thought should be to please him. Which sounded wonderful, and surely easy enough. My brain however, is always busy, always anxious, always overthinking.

My anxieties started popping up. Would he like me? Would he want me? Would I look foolish? Would I actually like being submissive to him? Would I disappoint him?

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My first command from him had been to look beautiful for my Master. So I took lingerie with me. But when we got to the motel after class, he wanted me to undress in front of him. I was embarrassed, because I was just wearing a mismatched bra and knickers. He wanted to see what was his, all of me. I hadn’t been naked in front of a man other than my husband in over ten years. I was well and truly out of my comfort zone. We hadn’t talked about what he wanted from me as his submissive, or my limits. I didn’t know what I was doing.

 

"On your knees."

I had never knelt for anyone before. Yet I knew it was my place. That’s where I belonged. He commanded me to “Suck.” His cock is thick, my mouth is little. I wanted to use my hands, but he would not allow it. I couldn’t get enough of him in my mouth. When he came he didn’t want me to swallow, he came all over my face. He was marking me as his. I liked that. I enjoyed knowing I was his possession.

He called me Bitch, when he fucked me. That was difficult. Being called a bitch felt like he didn’t like me. It felt humiliating. Dominants call their submissive all sorts of names, I know that now. But for my first experience with him, it was very confronting.

At one point, he put his hand around my neck, then slowly squeezed. “Do you feel it? Yes?” It felt like his hand was on my pussy, because I felt it there too with a tightness and throbbing. Not just around my neck. Feeling my body’s reaction to his hand wrapped around my neck made me very curious. I’d never had that done to me before. I stop myself from breathing, or take only a few shallow breaths when I want to orgasm, so I wonder if those feelings are connected. Maybe I can explore that with my Master.
I bruise very easily. I was worried about having marks on my body that I wouldn’t be able to cover up. Marks shaped like his hands. I dreamt later that week about walking around with a hand shaped bruise on my neck.

When we had been messaging each other prior to that weekend, I had been so wet and turned on. I hadn’t felt that horny in years, now it seemed like almost a constant state for me to be wet with a tingling pussy. I was embarrassed and surprised when my body didn’t respond the same way when I was with him in that motel. What was wrong with me? Perhaps I felt too overwhelmed. I just remember thinking surely he wouldn’t want to have me ever again. I’m not interesting. I feel so inexperienced. I’m not good enough to be Master’s submissive.

While we waited for our taxi’s on the last night, he bit me on each of my cheeks. Hard enough to feel pain. Soft enough to feel pleasure. I woke up with little red marks on my cheeks. I smiled to myself, no one would ever guess what they were. He had marked me, I belonged to him.

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It was only a few days later when I saw him again in my city. Somehow so much had changed in me. I felt different. I felt more sure of myself somehow. I really don’t understand why it was different, why I was different. Maybe I had come to terms with who I am, what I was doing. I wanted him to fuck me, I didn’t feel guilty about it. I knelt for him and asked him to be my Master. I needed to obey him, submit to him. He wanted me to beg. My mind went completely blank and I think I only managed to splutter, “Please, Master”. Wow. Not my finest. It made me feel grateful and happy, when despite my terribly inadequate begging, he accepted to keep me as his submissive. I knew I would have to work incredibly hard to please my strict new Master.

He buckled my wrists into black leather cuffs. Mmm, those cuffs. I loved the feel of them. I knew what they symbolised. I liked what he could do to me when they were linked together behind my back. I was to kneel on the couch with my back curved, my ass in the air, so my Master could see what was his. If I curved my back the other way, he would punish me. He spanked me then. Not to punish me. But because he wanted to, because I was his to do with as he pleased. God it felt good. They were kind of slow precise spanks. I knew that to spank me like that, my Master must have had a lot of experience spanking girls butts. I was incredibly grateful for my experienced Master. My eyes were to remain shut. He would walk away from me, I could feel his energy, could feel him watching me, it was so intense. His thick cock slid into my wet pussy, all of him, all at once. I can still distinctly remember how that felt to be suddenly full. 

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On the Saturday while Master was here, I knew I had six hours all to myself. I wished to serve my Master. But I knew I couldn’t ask that of him. As my Master, he decides when it suits him to have me. When he asked for me to come to him on Sunday I had to refuse, there was no way I could with my cup of tea at home. My Master was angry. I felt crushed to have displeased him.

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I received a message from my Master, I was to come to him, but I was not to speak, did I understand his command, did I have any questions? I didn’t need to question him. I understood completely. No speaking. It felt like he had given me a gift. It felt so freeing. My mind could relax. I could relax. All I had to do was obey my Master with my body and feel every sensation. Amazing. It felt amazing.

Master carried me to the bedroom and bent me over the edge of the bed with my wrists bound behind my back. His cock was pressing into my ass, I was so tense trying to hold myself up against the edge of the bed, my ass was in pain. I needed to please him, I wanted his cock in my ass, but the pain was getting too much. I pleaded with him. He was pressing his body on to me, he took my hand then, spoke to me until I relaxed and my body could take him. He didn’t have to do that. He could have just fucked my ass and made me accept the pain of pleasing my Master. I am very grateful that he chose to adapt for me that afternoon.

That day, I realised the importance of aftercare. It had been an intense afternoon with him, I had felt very vulnerable being in so much pain. I needed to curl up next to him and recover, but time was short, I had to get back home. Walking out of that apartment into the bright afternoon sun was a shock.

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I thought I had my life all figured out. I thought I knew who I was. Now that I have a Master to serve, I realise that is not the case. Master seems to see something in me that I couldn’t. How did he know what I need better than me?

I feel like I have this strange and naughty secret. Sometimes I am desperate to scream it out loud. Sometimes I want desperately to keep the real me hidden.

I feel like I am living two lives at once.