2019 is my year to thrive…


OK…so it has been a week since I made the decision to create this blog…website…place to reflect. I did not intend for anyone to actually read anything…although I am happy that you are here. I have found that writing about my lessons, experiences and stressors help me deal with them, putting them here for others to read makes them real. Knowing that individuals read this and relate to what I am going through helps me and I truly enjoy knowing that my experiences may actually help someone along the way. What I do not need is any critiques. This is filled with my opinions and experiences…there is no wrong or right here…it is my perception of my reality. I do not seek to argue or defend myself. I just want everyone to get along.

I’m an optimistic person. I like to describe my world as my personal bubble…it smells like cotton candy and there is a rainbow in it too! There are days that are really rough but I don’t want them to control me. What could be so difficult? Nothing dramatic for sure…there are many who live easier lives than myself…but I also know that many have it a lot worse than I do so I try real hard to be thankful and not take my life for granted. I am divorced, I am a mom of four teenagers, I am the daughter of amazing parents, the sister of some great individuals, I am well educated, have a great career, am a homeowner, and am proud of my accomplishments. I am secretly a submissive…oh if my family knew…they would think I needed help because this cannot be a normal way to live my life. It is the normal that I choose though and it makes me feel happy and safe. I will walk out my door every morning with a smile on my face. I will go out of my way to do a great job at work and to help anyone that needs it.

My current struggle is that my submissive self is in desperate need of a Dominant to calm that storm that swirls out of control in my head. The problem that came to me today as I reflected was that even the best Dominant cannot fix this storm. I need to gain control of myself in order for anyone else to calm me. I have always been crazy organized and have a plan for the future yet the world around me feels like it is in a state of turmoil. Cluttered surroundings become a cluttered mind and creates an out of control submissive. This cannot be fixed with a hug or a spanking either. Those are temporary fixes but I need the real correction. I am the only one that can do this…the realization of me needing to take control of my surroundings and life is what makes me a strong submissive woman. Only the strong can take control, fix the issues and care for others while submitting personal control to another. I have no doubt that I will be successful and come out stronger for this experience. Sometimes you need to have a few failures in life in order to learn some lessons and to become stronger. I started to spiral out of control at the end of 2018…this is going to be my year. 2019 is where is I take control and become the submissive that I was meant to be.

Today, I have created a plan to get myself back on track. My plan includes reflecting here regularly as well as writing some journals/stories to release some of the tension and to share some of the lessons that I learn along the way. I have created a written journal of lists, to do’s, goals, challenges and accomplishments so that I can look back in the bound pages and see the journey unfold. It becomes a sense of pride. Once I have my life organized again…I will be able to be the true submissive that I am. There is always something blocking me from letting go completely lately…I believe it is because of all my personal stressors. Letting go momentarily helps but those stressors are still there when I wake. Organization, de-cluttering, having a plan…these will all create the calm atmoshere that I need to be able to focus on what is important.

For now, I close this and continue on my vanilla day of housecleaning, laundry, bill pay and de-cluttering my surroundings. Once I get this routine in place…I will be able to focus on serving. I know as well as anyone that I cannot serve if I do not take care of myself first. I forgot about self-care. What was I thinking?! Today is the beginning of my positive changes. Today is where I take control of my happiness. I am finally ready. I am going to thrive in 2019.

The Joys of Online Dating for a Submissive


I have found that many online cannot commit. Some are married, others want a kinky friend with benefits (FWB) and many more call themselves Dominants but have no idea what a real submissive even is. 

“Wait…so you’re submissive? So, if I tell you to show me your tits, you have to do it, right?” … Wow, yeah that is exactly how it works. I just blindly follow the orders of every asshat on the street because, as a submissive, I do not have any functioning brain cells. What a fucking moron.

These little boys have no idea the strength, resilience and trust it takes to submit to someone. I know that I have more strength in me on a bad day than these pathetic boys will ever hope to have. I digress…this sounds judgmental now doesn’t it? Believe it or not, I do not judge all of these individuals because they are all making choices that are right for them. What I perceive as unfair though, is that they sometimes judge me harshly for not wanting to be involved in what they are rationalizing as an appropriate decision that is working for them in their situation. I think that some have forgotten that just because I am online and am an unattached submissive, it doesn’t mean that I am obligated to submit to their needs and be happy to serve a lonely, sex deprived, elderly married man. “Hot damn…where do I sign up for that?! I NEED TO SNATCH THAT ONE UP BEFORE HE GETS AWAY!!”I think that someone is forgetting that I also have the right to make the choices that are right for me and those choices include seeking a relationship with someone who I am attracted to…yep, that’s right boys, just because you like getting off to my pictures, doesn’t mean that I can stand the sight of you. 

Age can be a real issue. I receive a lot of messages from boys…yes I’m calling you boys…who want to fulfill their fantasy of finding Mrs Robinson. Hate to burst your bubble kids…I have ZERO interest in a single one of you. I don’t care if you are 22 and keep it hard for hours…my glass dildo lasts even longer, and I have more skill in my right hand than you do in that cock that I see in your profile picture with the remote control or water bottle. Oh…I’m sorry, you thought you were being original. On the opposite end of the spectrum is the entitled elderly “gentleman” who swears that it still works…just give him a chance. Guess what, I’ll bet that old toothbrush lying on the curb on garbage day still works too…doesn’t mean I’m going to put it in my mouth. Gross. I get a lot of rude comments from men that are 70-ish. Apparently, I am not so young either and as a 47-year-old woman, I should just give up and fuck him because he is as good as it gets for me. “Whew! So glad he found me in time!” I am not looking for young and I am not looking for old. I am not looking for a rich guy to take care of me either. Quit telling me about your money. I DON’T CARE. I love my job, I have worked hard for what I have and I won’t be leaving my career to serve you or anyone else. What I seek is someone within 10 years of my own age. As I have told my submissive friends, if I can’t picture myself willingly on my knees, begging him to allow me to worship his cock on a regular basis…I can tell you right now that he will never be my Dominant, no matter how much I respect him and value his friendship. My Dominant will be attractive to me, kind but strict, he will allow me to be myself while molding me to be the submissive that I long to be, he will be funny and allow me to embrace my creativity and humor, sometimes without consequence (as long as I am being respectful, of course!) and he will be a true long term and loving partner. 

I guess that I am just a bad girl for not wanting to submit to that married guy. Hurry…someone spank me for that!! I should probably feel bad for their tough life of deprived sexual contact. If they are that miserable, they should either fix it or leave. I am not here to fill their void. I will be the cherished partner…NEVER the secret one. Many love to tell me that they love their wife or their girlfriend so they don’t want to leave…what was I thinking? I should understand this and just let them fuck me on the side. We can be “discreet” so no one gets hurt. He can just give me orders, demand naughty pictures and control me from a distance. “Wow…that sounds awesome! What a lucky girl I am to be chosen for this great honor. Fuck off buddy…not interested.” This is a win-win situation only for him…the great and powerful almighty Dom. Guess what asshole…I WOULD GET HURT BECAUSE SUBMISSION IS NOT AN EMPTY ACT FOR ME. I guess I don’t count, huh?

Here’s the thing…I was married once too. I loved my husband and continue to love him. We were not on the same page anymore though. It happens. My marriage was no longer healthy. My needs were not being met. Instead of seeking it elsewhere and taking the easy road by staying married, I divorced him and found my way. I did not expect others to compromise their self-respect by asking them to be part of a cheating wife’s escapades. Perhaps they wouldn’t have cared. With that being said, I am actually not judging. I know it sounds like I am, but I just don’t want to be part of the triangle in someone else’s marriage. I don’t share well. If I’m playing, fucking and connecting with someone…he is not going home to someone else’s bed. I am not spending all of my holidays alone while he enjoys it with the family he pretends does not exist when he is with me. That’s where it hurts me. I will NEVER be someone’s dirty little secret. 

Here is the thing I learned from all of this. I think that when we first enter this lifestyle, we dip our toes in the water, we start experimenting and search for what we perceive is the ideal partner…whether it is of the Dominant or submissive persuasion. A young, fit, attractive person with an infectious personality and a great career…then we wake the fuck up and realize that the only thing that should really matter is the connection, energy and dynamic. Newbies tend to need the handsome prince or princess…I have found that handsome is all in the eye of the beholder. I have met socially beautiful people just to find them turning ugly as they open their mouth to speak. I have also met socially average to below-average looking individuals and found myself incredibly attracted because of the way they treat me and the wonderful and loving personality that they have. Sometimes you do need to kiss a few toads to find that prince but when you do, you’ll be glad you tossed those toads back into the pond…or the highway…whatever works.

I am a natural submissive. Do not mistake my kindness (and a simple hello) for weakness. I am nice to everyone unless you give me a reason not to be. I will be sassy to everyone…seriously…what does a girl need to do to get a spanking around here? Yeah, yeah, yeah…I know…I’ll add it to the list! 

Newbie subs…don’t give up and don’t settle. Let the toads all sort it out in the murky pond on their own. Your prince will find you when you least expect it. He/she is worth the wait.

I am A submissive…not YOUR submissive


I am A submissive. I am not YOUR submissive. I really don’t care how long you have been in the community. I truly don’t care how much experience you have. Your expectation of what a submissive needs to be may not match the kind of submissive that I am. I am a natural submissive. I am also an Alpha Submissive who knows exactly what I want, what I need and how I want to serve. I refuse to top from the bottom because I am a follower who needs to be given the safe place to shut off my brain. I need a Dominant who understands my needs and knows not only how to fill them, but that finds his needs met in the process. I NEED to give my submission, but I will not disrespect myself by settling for anything or anyone who does not meet my needs or does not treat me with respect. I will NOT be judged by any Dominant who cannot or chooses not to understand this. I am not yours to judge. I am not yours to criticize. I am not yours to punish. I cannot trust or respect anyone who thinks otherwise.

In my opinion, finding the Dominant that is right for any submissive is not any different than vanilla dating. OMG…the Dom wants to dominate me…I must submit immediately because of this great honor! FUCK THAT SHIT. Seriously, what makes him worthy of my submission, my trust, my adoration? Sometimes you know on that very first date that there is no way that this is going to go anywhere. Other times, it may take a few dates and a play session or two to know the same. Sometimes you are fooled and fall for the egotistical narcissist. There may even be the time when you just need to play without the intention of a relationship. Oh my god…it’s a hook-up. What…a…slut. Fuck off if that’s what you think. Yeah, I had one of those too. It was an amazingly fun night and I don’t regret it for a second. Sometimes, you receive an unexpected message and just click. Sometimes you meet for coffee and find that the connection is exactly what you were looking for. Sometimes you allow your walls to crumble down all around you because you know that this incredible man is offering everything you need and what you offer is what he seeks in return. Sometimes you find yourself giving your gift of submission and accepting his ownership sooner than what friends think you should. Sometimes they forget that they do not know what has transpired in private to make you feel safe, allowing you to make this decision. Sometimes they forget that you are a grown ass woman who is smart and her brain processes situations at a constant rate, always thinking about her safety and vulnerability but knowing that you have to take a leap of faith on occasion. Sometimes you don’t give a flying fuck what anyone else thinks when this miraculous event happens. I am happy. Don’t you dare try to steal that from me. 

The important part is that one recognizes when a relationship is not right for them and moves on instead of stringing someone along or feeling trapped in a relationship that isn’t healthy. I have done some dating this year. Yes, these men were all wonderful people (I reserve the right to say that one most certainly was not) who were not a good match for me but are making another submissive very happy. I continue to have respect for them and want nothing more than to know that they have found happiness. I enjoyed the company of a wonderful Dominant whose needs I could not meet. Another who could never meet mine. I gave another a fair chance, attempted to submit even but I could not trust his leadership or ability to keep me safe. Perhaps people need to understand that you can’t believe everything you see and that things happen behind closed doors that you don’t know about. Sometimes people act one way in public and so very differently at home. Sometimes they like to act like they want to learn and even play the role when you are watching just to go back to being arrogant and looking down their nose at those who tried to help. Sometimes the dominant act ends the minute the car door closes, and he becomes his vanilla and judgmental self when no one in the community is watching, making the sub miserable and defensive of her friends.  Sometimes people just don’t like to admit that they fell for the same bullshit that I did. Yet, I am now a bad submissive because I took my life back and will not allow someone to make me feel bad about myself in order to make themselves feel like a real Dominant. Sometimes people like to discuss this and judge you because you didn’t sit at home crying about your loss and instead moved on and continued your search for happiness. I also would have been called a fool to stay in a relationship like this. Sometimes, you just can’t win. I will never allow myself to be a victim. No one has the right to judge me for leaving a relationship that I can describe as nothing less than mentally abusive. Period. There are some absolutely amazing men whom I have had the pleasure of meeting and befriending that are not and never will be good matches for me. There is nothing wrong with that. We all have different kinks and different needs from a D/s dynamic. I’m not judging your needs. You don’t get to judge mine.

Contrary to popular belief, I am not a brat. Don’t mistake my strength for brattiness. I am not your submissive, therefore I do not follow your rules. You are just another male in the room. You will receive the same respect that I give to everyone human. Here is the thing about me. I cannot give my full submission and tear down my carefully built walls of protection to someone who cannot provide the boundaries and leadership that I require. I need boundaries, rules, and structure. When I respect and trust a Dominant, I will happily stay within those boundaries and follow every damn rule down to the letter. Will I test the boundaries just a little every now and then? Hell yes, I will. I need to know that they are real and that you are going to keep me in them as promised. If my Dominant can provide this in our dynamic, he is rewarded with my respect, trust, adoration, and total compliance. 

Yes, I have moved on. Will this be the lasting D/s relationship that I have been seeking? Maybe…maybe not. Sometimes you have to take a chance and see what happens. For now…I have rules. I have boundaries. I have given my submission and trust to an amazing Dominant. My Master, in turn, has provided a safe place and the structure that I need. I do not test his boundaries. This is not out of fear of punishment rather it is my need to please him and to ensure that he is proud to own me.  I love having these boundaries and want to comply. I accept his ownership and I trust him to lead me to the place he knows that I need to be. I know my place. I am happy. Don’t rain on my fucking parade.

Our First Meeting


It has been a whirlwind. I woke up this morning after barely sleeping all night. I was nervous and SO excited. I was about to see my Master face to face for the first time. We had a wonderful connection online and have progressed even more since we started texting, but I was so afraid that our connection would fail once we were sitting across from each other. Maybe he wouldn’t think that I was the right submissive for him. Maybe I would be curvier than he expected. Perhaps I wouldn’t feel the connection that I thought I would feel. Anything could happen. I took a deep breath and walked out the door to meet him at Starbucks.

I received my first message from Master a mere week ago. I wasn’t sure what to think with that first “Good Morning”. He said that he loved my profile, introduced himself as an experienced Master…he wanted to speak with me. I was already intimidated a little. I knew immediately that he was the real deal. He was not one of the vanilla boys trying to convince a submissive that he is a Dominant. His energy was different, and I felt it.

Master was handsome. He called me his sweet sub. He asked me many questions about my experience, my needs, the limits that I want challenged. He reassured many of my fears before I had the chance to verbalize them. He provided his cell phone number, told me the town he lived in, the type of work he does, and all about his family. I felt his pain when he shared the recent loss of his parents, and I felt the pride he has in his children. He was so optimistic and had so much energy in his writing. I had to talk to him more.

Just four days after that first text, I responded to his message as soon as I read it. Then I thought about it for a few moments and decided that it was silly to write it there when a phone number had been provided. I then picked up my phone and shakily sent him a text message. I wasn’t sure if he would even respond but it was exciting to send the message anyway. Within just a few short minutes, my phone vibrated on my desk. I had received my first text response with additional pictures so I would know him along with a big enthusiastic thank you for being comfortable enough to communicate through text. 

Over the next several days, we texted frequently. He asked many questions and I answered promptly, with detail, often offering more than what he requested. He was kind, encouraging, and very easy to talk to. I never felt judged about my feelings or experiences. I was telling him everything and I was being praised for my promptness and openness to share.

The next day, we continued our communication and I found us already talking about sessions. He answered all of my questions and put me at ease. I received my first assignment that evening. He wanted a picture of me wearing something that I thought Master would enjoy seeing me wear. Yikes! No pressure, right? What was he looking for? I decided to take a picture the way I was. A strong, independent woman who had just returned from a long day at work. Then I changed into some tasteful lingerie with my heels and sent that as a contrast to display my inner submissive that desperately wanted to come out. I was already feeling his control. Did I just refer to myself as his slut? This was exhilarating and horrifying at the same time. Am I being manipulated or is he the wonderful Master that I think he is and I am finally feeling like the submissive that I know that I am? How do I know the difference? I share my fears with him and he reassures me that my feelings are normal. He reminds me of his experience as a Master and that I need to trust and let him help me. He is right. I needed to stop overthinking everything.

I received my second assignment. He wanted me to write a short story for him. I needed to describe our first session. Why? This was scary. I did not want it to be pathetic and basic but I also did not want to go overboard and set an expectation of what he may interpret as what I want or need from a first session. I asked some clarifying questions and set to get writing. I wrote my heart out, imagining what it may be like. I described what I thought my fears, excitement and emotions of that day would be and I shared it with him as directed. I was nervous as he read the story. What if he didn’t approve? What if he thought it was dumb? I would be so embarrassed. When I write, it comes from deep within me. No filters. My true self on the paper. Vulnerable and raw.

It was only 5 days since we started our journey, and Master told me that I may be the sub that he was looking for. We hadn’t met yet but he said that he felt as if he already owned me…and I felt owned. I felt as though I knew my place and all I really wanted was to please my Master. I trusted him. I wanted to please him. Then he asked me:” Who’s your Master baby?” and without hesitation, I replied “You are my Master”. He later texted me that he decided to claim ownership; I was now his sexual slave, his whore, his slut and his sweet sub. I was owned and I was happy. 

The next morning began the daily pictures of what I would be wearing to work. Master told me that he enjoyed the story that I wrote for him and that he was proud of what I had done for him. My words excited Master and I was so happy! We made plans to meet the next morning for coffee so Master and slave could finally meet face to face. Has it really only been a week?!  The excitement Masters’ whore felt was palpable. I could barely concentrate on anything. I was so excited! I went to bed that night smiling and restless in anticipation.

I woke up that morning with a big smile. In a few short hours, I would be sitting across the table from my Master! I put my fears and anxiety aside and got out of bed and began to get ready. I texted Master a picture of what I would be wearing to meet him as requested, and then headed out the door.

I arrived early, ordered a drink and sat down with my computer. I wanted to be early because I did not want to leave Master waiting for me and also so that I could get settled and feel relaxed when he arrived. Every time the door opened, I looked up wondering if he was the one arriving. I learned that this is a very busy coffee shop! So many people order online and come through that door! Finally, I heard the door open again, and there he was. I recognized him immediately. Master was handsome and had a smile on his face. He walked over to me, introduced himself as I stood up, and gave me the most wonderful hug. If I had any doubts before that moment, they all vanished that very instant. Feeling Masters’ arms around me felt like a safe place. I was so very happy. I was the luckiest girl on the planet.

We spent the next 3 hours sitting across from each other, talking about everything from family to the D/s dynamic. It was wonderful, my mind was completely at ease. He was the man I thought he was, the Master that I was hoping he would be. I knew he was being honest and I loved him for being so wonderful. He held my hands as we talked, he was very distracted by my breasts and I was distracted about the pulsing I felt in my wet pussy. I excused myself to the bathroom once and he hugged me with his face right in my cleavage as I walked by.  I didn’t want to walk away! Apparently, that behavior is frowned upon in the coffee shop, so I had to keep walking! When I returned, we agreed that we would like to proceed with the dynamic that we had already begun. I had a handsome and wonderful Master. I knew that it was the start of something fantastic. It was exciting and scary, but I was ready for the adventure!

He walked me to my car. It was cold outside, but I did not feel the cold. I put my purse in my car and I could feel my heart beating as he put his arms around me again. My God I cannot get enough of his hugs! He looked deep into my eyes and I thought I was going to melt right then and there. When he kissed me, I could feel all the butterflies fluttering around inside me. He is a wonderful kisser, I could just keep kissing him for hours if he let me. He took my hand and allowed me to feel how firm he was; I was so happy and so very wet. I wanted badly for him to just take me away and really make me his. To truly claim what he already owns. It was going to have to wait a few weeks. I knew that and it was going to be torture but it would be worth it when the day finally comes. Another passionate kiss and we needed to go our separate ways for the day. Already? Why did that 3 hours have to go by so quickly?

We then said our good byes, I got into my car and took a deep breath. Did that just happen? Oh, it did, and it was amazing. I have the most wonderful Master. I am all in. I will do what it takes to please him and make him proud. I will be the best whore I can be, and I know that with his guidance I will be successful.

I am strong. 

I am resilient.

I am submissive.

I am owned.

I am whole.

Kinky Kollege


Kinky Kollege…I have been hearing about it for months. I bought my ticket and reserved my room, but I was petrified. No matter how much everyone tries to prepare you for what to expect, you just can’t comprehend what it really feels like to attend until you experience it for yourself.

I am an unowned submissive and I was going to Kinky Kollege alone. Well, not truly alone because I had my bestie, my protector and many other friends that I have met in this incredible community. I did not have a Dominant…it wasn’t about not having someone to play with though. It was about me feeling like I needed someone to lead me through this experience. Someone to make me step outside that comfort zone and truly be my unguarded self. I wanted to be me, and I was worried that if I did not have someone to push me, I probably wouldn’t allow myself to be vulnerable.

My bestie and my protector are amazing. Through their encouragement, I put on the corset and skirt that I bought for the weekend, took a deep breath, and went into the dungeon. It was the second scariest thing that I have ever done. Of course, at the time, I thought it was the absolutely scariest and overwhelming thing ever…but it wasn’t. I felt liberated. I enjoyed being me. I felt safe, confident, happy and me.

I had the opportunity to play that first night with an amazing Dominant friend. He made me feel safe and gave me the opportunity to experience playtime in the Kinky Kollege dungeon. I had so much fun and I finished the night feeling stronger and more confident than when I arrived. I shakily walked away from that session with some beautiful bruises that continue to develop even today. Saturday was filled with spending time with friends at the many classes that were offered and going to Tapas, where I had the opportunity to be tied up and confined in Shibari ropes. I loved it…so…much. I NEED more of that in my life. I took a bondage class and learned a little bit about self-ties, so I bought some pretty rope to play with and look forward to enjoying more in the future.

Saturday night came with more anticipation and excitement than Friday night. Friday I was panicked about walking into the dungeon in my corset, a sheer skirt and breasts exposed. Saturday…not at all. I was where I belonged. I was confident. I was happy. I had the opportunity and pleasure to play with another wonderful Dominant friend. As excited as I was to play…I was shaking and nervous. This was easily the most difficult thing I have ever done…so much harder than entering the dungeon on Friday…removing my corset…and then my skirt and standing in front of that St Andrews Cross. Exposed to the crowded dungeon in nothing but a thong…restrained, flogged and free. I let go of all of my stress, all of my insecurities, and all of my care about anything that doesn’t truly matter. I was me…and I was happy.

I was worried about going to Kinky Kollege without the security of a Dominant to lead me. In the end, I am so happy that I went alone. I found out just how strong…how resilient I really am. I have social anxiety…I am very nervous going to strange places alone, not knowing what to expect when I arrive. It is a battle that I fight frequently. This weekend, I drove to a hotel and checked into my room alone. I stepped out of that hotel room wearing clothing that made me feel good but that I did not think I would have the courage to leave my room wearing. A day later I found myself removing it in a crowded dungeon, not because I was ordered to, but because I wanted to. I wanted to be me. I wanted to prove to myself that I was strong enough to be who I am and with the encouragement and love from the most amazing kinky friends. I had the best weekend ever. 

Thank you to all my favorite people, for the hugs, the encouragement, the support and, of course, the floggings, spankings, dragontail whipping and orgasms! 

I can’t wait until next time!!

The Break-Up


I woke up alone this morning for the first time in months. Interestingly, it is also the first time in months that I also woke with a smile, well rested and content. 

Break-ups suck. I’m not going to say that I am happy that this relationship ended. I cried. I felt horrible and I worried about my decision-making and if it was the right one. I truly thought that we had something real and that it would last like he promised. How can you care so much about someone, miss them when they aren’t there, but be miserable when you are face to face and interacting? I remember days coming home from work, looking forward to seeing him, just to be faced with comments and conversation that made me feel bad and sad. It would ruin the evening and all I wanted to do was curl up with my blanket and go to sleep. Was it intentional or just a personality clash? I will never know for sure. 

The mind is a fascinating thing to me. It is easily manipulated and fooled. We see red flags, our gut tells us that something isn’t right, but we ignore that sixth sense and convince ourselves that we are paranoid, that we are sabotaging our own relationships. We believe that we will regret leaving when we see what we walked away from. It is in that moment that the strong and resilient take note and examine those red flags, realizing that life will go on if we take control of ourselves again. 

There is a name for this…it’s called gaslighting and it is a form of psychological abuse when it is done deliberately. This type of manipulation is used to make you trust this person while doubting your own perceptions of sanity. You feel guilty for doubting this person that you trust. They justify and explain their actions differently than you remember the situation occurring and then fill your head with expressions of love and flattery to confuse and reason away any discrepancies in the story being told. You are reassured, then you doubt yourself, ignore your gut and become more confused. 

I have gone through this cycle more times that I can count in the past 6 weeks. As a nurse, I would have recognized it quickly if I watched a friend in this cycle. It’s interesting that you can’t see it when you are in it though. How can I be so happy after we are out with our friends, then get in the car and start talking about something fun that happened just to have my words twisted into something that was never intended? How can I go from being so happy to being made to feel so broken inside? Why does he keep doing this to me? My Dom is supposed to help me feel strong, to build me up, not to tear me down and feel small. Why do I have to try to be so careful about how I tell a story? I started building a wall to protect myself and then he would be angry that I am now pushing him away by being quiet. I can’t win.

Maybe he was just ego-centric and doesn’t realize the spiral he is placing me in…or maybe he is a narcissist who enjoys breaking me down so he can convince himself that he is the good guy there to rescue me over and over again. Funny that I didn’t need rescuing before I met him. In the end, it really doesn’t matter. He could just be a dumb guy that has no idea how his words hurt me. 

Regardless of the motives, no matter how much communication of my feelings and why I feel bad occurred, nothing was changing. It was getting worse instead of better. For my mental health, I needed to end the cycle.  What I know is that I am a genuinely happy person with a pretty stressful life. The last 6 weeks have been anything but happy for me. I blamed it on the end of summer, changes in work, family stresses; everything but what was looming over me. It took having a good friend ask me if was happy. What kind of question is that? Of course, I’m happy! It made me think though…I realized that he saw something that I didn’t see. I was not truly happy. I was actually quite miserable. I needed to fix it for me and for my kids. 

Yesterday was that day. With the help of my bestie and my protector, I survived the day of him moving all of his things out of my house. I saw then and again today that I made the right decision. Tonight, it is all over…life moves on like it always does. I walk about my house and see that there is nothing left of him here. My bedroom is neat and orderly again. My kitchen is back to the way I like it with my dishes back in the cabinets where they belong. I took control of my home back and we are all happy again. There is silence. It is peaceful. I feel content. 

As I close my thoughts, I have tears in my eyes as I think of all the fun we had. Great memories were made in the first few months we were together. I don’t know why things changed. I truly wish they didn’t. I want to be that happy girl again. I miss him. I miss the companionship.  I have grown. I won’t settle. I have learned from the experience. I will wake tomorrow stronger. 

I am a playful and happy girl that just wants everyone to get along.

I was timid. 

I am now resilient. 

Don’t fuck with me. 

The Collar


I was scared. Fearing the unknown. I knew we were going to play later that night, but this felt different. His energy was different. I couldn’t grasp what it was that created my anxiety. I trust him. I follow him. I love him. I have no reason to fear him. What I needed was for him to reassure me, but he left the house and vanished for most of the afternoon, leaving me alone with my thoughts. What he didn’t know was that my stress built exponentially without his reassurance. What I didn’t know was that he spent the day planning his evening with me. Alone with my thoughts, which became stress and anger by the time he returned home. Stress and anxiety for the unknown. Anger because he wasn’t there to save me from myself. He arrived just in time for a quick shower and then out the door we went for whatever awaited me. We are a couple that is still learning our way in this relationship. We have a wonderful Leader/follower relationship but incorporating some of the D/s has been a learning experience. I had no idea just how much learning I was about to do.

            The ride to our friends’ home was mostly in silence. I was scared and upset. I couldn’t verbalize what was bothering me. I knew he had wanted me to wear a dress, but I chose not to, putting it in my bag to bring with instead. He didn’t say a word or question my clothing choice before we left or on the ride over. He waited until we were with friends to question my choices. Now I had an audience. I was embarrassed and angry…more than I was when I walked through the door. Questioning me about my decisions. I was pissed so I grabbed my bag and slammed the bathroom door when I went to go change into the damned dress. Why is that so damn important? WTF. When I came back and sat down on the couch, I just glared at him. I couldn’t speak. Tears just rolled down my face. I was questioned about why I was fighting him, but I couldn’t fully explain my thoughts. They were all floating around above my head, and I struggled to make sense of them. 

            I cried. A lot. I was out of control and needed to be put back together again. I didn’t know how and that scared me because I am usually in good control of myself. Not tonight. Not even close. I was then given a task. I was told to set the table and prepare for our meal with a friend while he and the homeowner went outside to the grill. I was distracted with my task, setting the table the way he likes, talking with a fellow submissive. I found myself feeling more like myself. Laughing even. We enjoyed a nice meal together, had wonderful conversation and my anxiety eased. The tension in the room lifted and I could breathe. I kept myself busy, cleaning up the dishes while the conversation continued. Then it was decided that we would go back to the living room. 

I felt tense and nervous again…the unknown had arrived. Part of me was relieved. I just wanted to get it over with. Survive whatever they had in store for me. In the room was a Sadist and my loving, sensual Dominant with a definite sadistic side and a fellow submissive who gave me encouragement. A spanking bench was carried into the living room. It was at that moment that I had a realization that I was going to be playing with an audience. I am shy. Modest. Some would argue the shy part but that is mainly because I survive the crippling shyness by using my humor and wit to mask it as best I can. It is always there though. It’s like a dark shadow that is always reminding me that someone is watching, listening and judging everything I say and do. It is a constant battle to ignore the shadow, to tell it to fuck off…that I don’t care what others think. The truth is that I do care. I wish I didn’t. The mere idea of being watched and critiqued (at least in my mind) was horrifying. That’s when the panic happened.

My Leader stood up in front of me, took my hand and instructed me to stand. My hands were shaking, I looked up at him with a quivering voice and tears in my eyes. Looking around the room, there were eyes on me, a bench I knew I would eventually be kneeling on, but not a single toy. What was he doing? He wasn’t giving me any clues at all. I was petrified. I was looking him in the eye and I know he saw my fear. He was kind, loving and reassuring. Then he was talking and I was barely comprehending his words until I finally put together the words and black piece of leather in his hand. It was a collar. It was pretty, elegant even with a pink heart hanging from it. My name was on one side and he tried to get me to read the other side but my eyes couldn’t focus on the tiny letters. Even now, I couldn’t say the exact words, but I know it said that I belonged to him. It was unexpected and my head was spinning. My breathing increased. I could feel my heart racing. He slowly put the collar on me, while calmly speaking to me in words that I don’t remember. My only memory is that he was reassuring me that he loved me and that he was going to take care of me…that I was safe. He attached a leash to the collar…I remember it being thin black leather with sparkles…clear stones maybe. It is a blur because he then told me that when I wear the collar I had to sit on the floor. I cried. Again. He hugged me and then lowered me to the ground. That’s when I fell apart. I sat on the floor, curled up inside myself, and buried my face into my arms on the couch now above me. I was being asked what I was feeling from across the room. I was being asked to put words to my feelings and emotion, but I couldn’t. I was overwhelmed. I was someone different. I was someone that I didn’t know. I have met her before, a long time ago but I have fought to be strong since that time. The submissive that was in control of herself. Unbreakable. There I sat, crying and broken. It wasn’t until I was riding home hours later that I was able to comprehend my feelings in that moment. It was me recognizing that I was, in fact, under his control at that moment. No more arguing. No more holding onto the anger that had me fired up earlier. I had fully submitted myself to him. I was his. Everything changed in an instant, with a small piece of leather and a shiny buckle. It was humbling and overwhelming.

My breathing slowly calmed, and I was able to slowly grasp time and place again. I felt his hand on my back, reassuring me that everything was going to be ok. He helped me stand on my shaking legs and he hugged me, further reassurance that I was safe. Then…a blindfold. OMG. WTF. Just seeing it in his hand…I vaguely remember hearing him say that I needed to wear it. I was petrified. Panic again…I couldn’t breathe. I was shaking…crying…I didn’t understand why that was needed. He held me…consoled me…then as I calmed, I knew it wasn’t negotiable. I was going to be wearing that blindfold. I agreed to let him place it over my eyes. He gently put it in place and then my world went dark. He whispered in my ear that I needed to take off my dress. Panic again…was this the third time? I always thought of myself as a strong person. Resilient. Fierce. Now, I felt weak and pathetic. We weren’t alone. The idea of him taking my dress from me now…making me walk across the room without it. It was a vulnerability and exposure I couldn’t mentally handle. He held me again…full panic…shaking head to toe and crying…again. He didn’t push. He knew it was too much. He said it could wait…and instead slowly walked me to the bench. He helped me to slowly kneel on the bench and instead of removing the dress, he lifted it, leaving me exposed as he walked about the room, preparing whatever it was that he had in store for me. It felt like an eternity. Kneeling in the dark…feeling exposed…feeling the eyes that may or may not have been on me. Listening to him bustling around the room arranging his tools for the evening. 

He slowly started touching me, gently. I felt my dress being raised higher, exposing my back. He was gentle and kind. I relaxed. He slowly put it up over my head and it was gone. The last bit of control that I had left was taken. I was there, in a friends’ living room, exposed and fully under his control. I don’t know how much time elapsed. I know that he was sensual, made me drift off to the light flogging and touching with various textures. I was relaxed. He roused me to make sure I was ready to escalate and I said yes. His tempo increased, and so did the power behind the strikes. I could feel the intensity increase, I could feel the pain but it wasn’t pain. It hurt so good. I couldn’t tell what implements he was using…I noticed a paddle of some sort, a flogger, and something that reminded me of the texture of a witches broom. It was stingy and I loved it. Then the flogger again…it hurt and it massaged and I loved every minute. I laughed and apparently was smiling…and then the intensity and pain increased bringing me close to that edge. Then he slowly calmed me, noting that I was bruised enough, an accidental small break to the skin that I didn’t even feel. It was time to bring me down. My breathing calmed. He helped me recover and then brought me slowly, on shaking legs, back to my place on the floor. I curled into him as he laid out a picnic or sorts on the floor in front of me. He truly thought of everything. I sat there, breasts exposed to the room, with my dress sitting in my lap. I no longer cared. I survived. It was safe. I made him proud. The collar that created stress and panic, now felt like it belonged. The feel of the leash hanging from it and resting on the skin between my breasts felt like a security blanket. When it was time to get dressed and go home, he removed that leather collar and instead of being relieved, I felt like something was missing. I was me again. The strong, resilient girl that I was earlier that day, but I know that I am so much more now. There was a lot to process. The ride home was wonderful, we talked about the evening and my thoughts about everything. The night once home was amazing as well…but I’ll keep that part to myself 

Who am I?


Journaling is one of those things that are born as a resolution for me but I never have time to fulfill the plan. It’s a great therapeutic idea, in theory, but how will it help? I think it’s because I know I will never find the time to go back to read what I have written. I wrote it. I already know what it says! What is the point of writing it then?

Today, I have so many thoughts fluttering through my head. The past 5 weeks have been incredible. They have been filled with reflection and I now have so much clarity about myself and what I want and need in the future. I was faced with a challenge, told that I needed to define who I am while essentially questioning my strength. I had some who I thought were my friends turn on a dime and suggest that I am not the follower and submissive that I claim to be. I was broken and devastated. What they did not know was that I have so much more strength than they were aware of. I have been broken and devastated before, but after I process the situation and think over the events and discussions, I ALWAYS come out stronger and smarter than I was before. I refuse to be manipulated or made to feel as though I am less than I am. I stand with my head up high. I am fierce. I am kind. I am smart. I am a leader. I am a follower. I am loved. I am PERFECT. Anyone who finds their own strength in tearing me or anyone else down is weak and foolish for thinking that it will be tolerated. 

The profound moment I had was the self-realization that I can be every bit as driven and strong while being a true partner and follower in a D/s relationship. I have a timid personality that I use humor and overall silliness to mask when I feel nervous. I am a bottom when I play because I have been forced to live a dominant vanilla life and need to submit that control to my trusted Dominant, which is why I prefer to be a submissive as a role and quite possibly a slave as the relationship progresses. I am a very strong follower who has strong opinions and isn’t afraid to share them but who also trusts her Dominant to listen and consider her concerns while he makes his decision. I have also thought good and long about what I need as a submissive/follower. I need a Dominant/Leader who does not try to control me by making me feel small in order to make himself feel bigger and stronger. I do not have an interest in building inflated egos. I need a confident leader who is not intimidated by my strength, one who sees the possibilities and encourages my strong, independent thinking and personal growth. A good Dominant is not one who rules by intimidation and threats of punishment. A good Dominant is one who can inspire his/her submissive by empowering them to be the best they can be without making them feel broken in the process. Anyone can learn to be a top, to use implements to cause pain. I cannot respect bullies. The true Dominant to me is the one who can lead their follower because they have connected and have a mutual trust in each other.

In the end, I am a true believer that everything happens for a reason. The good things are gifts. The bad things become life lessons that make me who I am and create additional strength and clarity. I wouldn’t change a thing. I am in love with an incredibly giving and strong Dominant, who has my health, happiness and strength as priorities for my role; he has earned my Respect and I will follow him anywhere he leads me. I am happy. I am strong. I am loved. What else is there?