Bitten and Written

The lights tremble just for a moment as if they were in some gothic Victorian room lit by gaslight. She blinks. He's propped up on his elbow; she's lying beneath him. Even almost prostate he still towers abover her.

"Turn your head," he orders.

She turns her neck to the side. She can feel her veins throbbing, the skin stretched tight over them, almost quivering as he draws near. His lips are full, but as he bares his teeth she imagines his canines filed into points, heading towards one of the most vulneralble spots on her body.

He leans in.

"What do you desire, my submissive?" he whispers.

Part of her wants to grab the words before they fall out. How can she think such a thing, it's ridiculous? But a deeper part of her feels the words.

"I want to be your submissive forever," she whispers.

She can feel his breath on her face, on her lips, and then it moves down her neck. A slight arousing touch of his tongue and then his teeth are in her. He has penetrated her yet again, this time perhaps more powerfully than ever before.

As he drains her of lifeblood she can feel her eyelids fluttering, she can feel herself slipping into a deep drowsiness that has a drugged Keats' like quality about it. He asks her how much of a trance she is in. She feels him touch her wrist, feel her pulse, check her eyes.

Yes, this is roleplay, she thinks, but it goes so far beyond putting on a costume; she almost believes it is true.

And then he sits up running his fingernails down his wrist. Usually they look bitten and raw, but tonight his nails seem talon-like, sharp, deadly. She watches as the blood starts to drip down his wrist; slowly at first, but as it gathers momentum he draws her head in and greedily she sucks and sucks.

It tastes rusty, coppery; earthy. As it slips down her throat she suddenly feels on fire.

She's greedy. She wants to suck him dry, to drain him as he has drained her. To take everything as she has given everything to him. But he doesn't let that happen. He'll never let that happen. He pulls away, telling her his blood will make her feel different. She'll be different.

They pull themselves together and eat. As usual, time has moved into another dimension and it's later than they thought.

Over dinner, she's cheeky. He tells her it's his blood. She chooses a medium steak. Nothing unusual with that. She orgasms in front of fellow diners, not caring if they see. But tonight there's something a little different about her.

He watches as she eats a piece of steak. Is that blood ooozing out of the side of her mouth? As she licks her lips he catchs a glance of sharp tipped teeth. Surely, they weren't there before?

And, then, horrified, he watches as she digs a fat chip through rich garlic sauce. Doesn't she realise the horror garlic holds for him and his kind. His stomach knots as she greedily devours mouthful after mouthful of the stuff. Blood mixed with garlic....what kind of half-breed monster has he created?

And, then as she licks the last remenant of garlic sauce off her finger, he wonders how on earth he is going to be able to take her back to the hotel and kiss her?

Sleeping In Submission

She sleeps tied up in her lead. She asks him if she can, and for a moment she thinks he is going to say no. She watches the hesitation as it clouds and passes through his eyes. But eventually he nods.

And she loves it. Totally. Completely. With all her thoughts silently tidied away, she can snuggle against him and feel his flesh against her cheek, the beat of his heart as it seems to produce an equal throb within her. She wishes that he could hold onto the lead all night, so intense is the feeling, but of course it slips from his fingers as he sleeps. For one ridiculous moment she giggles as she imagines tying him up with the lead, but decides the reaction might not be one she'd care to see.

She moans, slowly awakening to the feel of his fingers as he pushes them through her juice sodden thighs and into her waiting wet pussy. With a growl that sends an electric thrill coursing through her, he ties her hands together with the lead and clambers on top of her.

Over the new few weeks there are moments when she feels like throwing off her submission: sometimes it's almost harder than she can bear, but the cold pressure of her lead keeps pulling her back to him.

Teacher's Pet

They are in a class, stuck behind wooden desks, stained by years of ink and engraved with the initials of pupils long gone.

The rows are tiered, with hardly any legroom: he has to sit with his knees wide apart so that he doesn't knock into the woman in front, she keeps sliding around in her seat, unable to get comfortable.

Another sub slides into the seat next to him and smiles. Her Dom makes some joke about being between two subs. Immediately she feels her hackles come up. She has so little of him that what she has she is not prepared to share. And even if she had more, she ponders, she still would not want someone else to dilute the intensity she enjoys so much.

She looks at the sub. Her immediate reaction is to grab her by the throat, bare her teeth and rip the lifeblood out of her. A more sensible and satisfying choice would be to lean over, smile sweetly and tell her to "fuck off".

But she does neither of these things. Instead, she finds herself rising out of her seat and walking over to the teacher at the front of the class. She offers herself as a guinea pig for the lesson, looking over at her Sir as she does so.

The teacher motions for her to kneel, which she does. Surprisingly, this doesn't feel submissive. It's a role she feels comfortable in, in her old capacity as Teacher's Pet. It's a position she adopted much of the way through Grammar school: from the English teacher who introduced her to to Hardy and treated her as a substitute daughter, to the older history teacher with a penchant for Fascism who took her to expensive restaurants and the opera, to the RE teacher who would embarassingly serenade her in the corridor in front of her sniggering friends. Kneeling like this feels like coming home.

But then she feels a collar being placed around her neck. This one is not like her own collar. This is velcro and feels like it's strangling her. It makes her feel itchy; not just around her neck, but all over.

She's looking at her Dom who is staring back at her, impassive. The sub next to him, however, is goggling wide eyed with her mouth open.

And then she can hear the lead. It's not her lead but it sounds similar. Almost at once she feels her body respond. She has been conditioned to this, but the roaring in her ears, the wetness in her shorts, they just don't feel right when she is here and her Dom over there.

Her palms start to sweat and she is annoyed at herself for putting herself in this position. How stupid of her to think that this was a good idea. She wonders what her Dom is thinking of her now. Is he bemused, angry, shocked? His face gives nothing away and she feels herslef being pulled into a vacuum, further and further away from him.

And then she hears it, that familiar sound of a zip being undone. It's the teacher behind her. She has barely registered him up until now, but she realises with a start what he is expecting. She cen feel the sweat on her upper lip now. She doesn't want to do this but these feelings of submission are almost overpowering, she's not sure she can say no.

She feels the teacher getting closer and closer. She's looking straight at her Dom now, pleading with him to say something, to do something but he is silent, motionless. She wonders if he wants to see what she'll do. If he's playing some peverse game of chicken with her. Even if he was, she wouldn't blame him, she has got herself into this mess.

She can sense the teacher's body heat so close now. She can feel his hand as it reaches out for her hair, ready to twist her towards him. She's straining against the leash but that's all she can do. And then she sees it, an almost imperceptible shake of the head: so tiny you would only see it if you were looking for it. He has said no. Overwhelmed with relief, she scampers back to Him, kneeling by his side and laying her head on his knee. He strokes her hair softly and she clings to his calf, shaking, close to tears, until he leans down, pulls her head back to reveal her upturned face, and kisses them away.

Kneeling For Her Dom

He pulls her up on her toes to kiss her. It's hard, passionate, just what she wants, what she craves, and yet something is not right.

As he holds her close to him it seems to become more of a clasp than an embrace. He can feel her knees start to give way and is holding her firm, preventing her from crumbling to the floor as she is so desperate to do.

He pushes her forward to the bed, lifts her dress and takes her roughly from behind. She can feel him pushing her forward to take even more of his length, feel his hands in her hair, pulling it tight, but something is plucking at her concentration. She is trying to enjoy this. No, she is enjoying it. How could she not? And yet she isn't quite 100% there. Part of her is somewhere else.

He turns her around, pushing his cock into her mouth. She takes him as deep as she can, wanting to show her obedience, but also hoping that he will notice the depth of her feelings for him mirrored in the depth she takes him into her throat.

But all the time she is still aware that he hasn't let her kneel.

She doesn't realise it, but the tension is upsetting her slightly. Eventually she sobs into his chest. Once again the only man that can make her feel like this is the only man who can soothe it away.

Later, he tells her that as her Dom he can do whatever he wants with her, and that includes not letting her kneel, if he so wishes.

Interestingly, kneeling is something he started by telling her to do; now she feels that she needs to. Whilst his words thrill her by underlining his explicit and implicit control of her, they also leave her feeling slightly confused. She'd like to be able to second guess what he wants, and yet if he is going to do this, that's not going to be possible.

Finally, when he does let her go where she feels she needs to be, she clambers over and past his erect cock, before tumbling to the floor by the side of the bed. It's only then she starts to realise how deeply her submission has taken root.

Things That Bother Me About My Submission

Okay, time to balance things up. After all, nothing is that perfect is it. After my last posting of what I love about my submission, I cannot but mention the things that leave me less than soaring.

It Makes Me Feel Boring

Okay, so part of my brain is switched off and it is a delicious reprieve. But at the same time, yet another part of my brain switches off, the flirty, cheeky, intellectual hopping part, and the result is that I lose part of me. Sometimes I feel boring, one dimensional, unable to contribute to a conversation as it's just beyond my capabilities at that moment.

There are even occasions when I can't talk, literally.

Most of these extreme times I am so wrapped up in what is happening, and enjoying it, that it's not an issue. But there are moments when I do feel an acutely boring companion.


It Makes Me Vulnerable

It's only recently that I have cottoned on to how vulnerable I actually am, and I don't mean just physically. I willingly open myself up to situations and suggestions without really thinking it through and depend, totally, on the honorable nature of the other person. I have found out that I am very suggestible, which I suppose can be quite fun, especially for Him, and it certainly reinforces the feeling of being "controlled", taking it far, far away from mere role play. But it can be scary and I do worry about possible consequences. It also makes me worry about how other people could exploit it...or me.

It Has Shaken Up My Life

I mentioned that it has provoked a lot of change in my life, but that's not always been good. It has shaken things up past the point of no return in one case. Sometimes that can be very, very sad.

Things I love About My Submission

It's been just over a year now since someone first suggested to me that I might be submissive. Some of her suggestions have sent me on a journey that is both fascinating and life changing, and I thought I would share some of the things I love about finding out that I am submissive.


1. The world stops.

When I am focused on him, on the look in his eyes, the tenor of his voice, the graceful movement of his hands, everything else stops still. There is nothing else. As one of those people who has trouble stilling their mind and freeing it from anxieties, visions of the future and examining everything in every shade and nuance, this is very akin to being in a meditative state.

And believe me, this is a massively welcome relief.

2.I Have Found Me

I am becoming clearer about who I am, almost on a day to day basis. Okay, so I hitting the age where people often have mid-life crises and do mad things anyway, but after 20 years in the same profession I can suddenly see a way out of it. I feel clearer about my relationships with people...friends, family and significant others and have made it clear where I stand with them. This simply wouldn't have been possible for me before and I am convinced there is a link.

3. I am having so much fun!

And believe me, it is fun. From choosing lingerie and clothes that I think he'll like and enjoy, to smarting from the sting of his palm on my backside, to pony-ing for him, it has, for the most part, been pure fun. And fun is not something I have had for quite a while.

4. I have made many friends

I am not very good at keeping secrets. Most of my significant friends know what's going on in my life. Their reaction has ranged from believing this to be a phase, just another one of my whims, although on the more adventurous side, to being convinced that when I meet and fall for the right someone, I won't need "all this kinky stuff".

So, it has been so good to meet people with whom I can talk open and frankly, people who undersgand not only about Ds, but also my own particular situation, which is not unusual in this world so it seems. But whilst we may have been drawn together by an interest in DS, I now have friendships that span writing, films and the workplace.

I am also part of an online and Submissive women's group and have found this hugely rewarding. I rarely post myself, but I have learned so much ...from how to make my own vampire gloves (If I wished!), to how to spot if a DS relationshop is turning abusive.

5. I have discovered Sex

Well, not strictly true, I admit, but in the past I had always felt vaguely unsatisfied by vanilla sex. The orgasms were always too fleeting, disappearing like wafts of smoke as I clutched at them. I always felt as though there was something missing, but I didn't know what. I remember trying to voice this once or twice, but as I wasn't aware of what was absent, I was not able to explain what I needed. I had been aroused by the melodrama of stern and commanding characters from black and white b movies, but no one seemed to understand how deep a nerve they touched. It wasn't until I met someone so naturally dominant (rather then being a Dom), that I even begun to understand what I had been craving.

And finding it has been both the end of one journey, and the start of another.

Greedy

She rarely gets her toys out without him. Somehow it doesn't feel quite right. Or didn't. But he's unleashed something in her that he isn't there to fulfil often enough and she's found out that now she needs it more than ever before.

She's never been into vibrators or stuff like that. Somehow that all seems a bit too mechanical for her. She prefers the imagination. But there are toys she's starting to think of as her toys, not just their toys.

She loves her gag. Just putting it on can make her climax now. Feeling it's tightness wrapped around her head (when she's finally got it on, it's not easy) can send her woozy. She takes a picture of herself wearing it, partly for him, but mainly for herself. It arouses her to see herself like that.

She's thinking she'd like to try another type of gag. Doesn't want to get reliant on the same old one. The very idea makes her hot.

She likes her pony tail. Of course, she would never actually use it in its proper way without him, but she can trail the soft leather of the tail over her naked body and watch a trail of goosebumps form behind, and then in front of its path, anticipating the sensation before its even arrived.

She's even tried the butt plug once or twice. She's not so sure about that one. She can't decide if she actually likes the sensation or not. With him, of course, she knows. She knows she loves the sensation of him thrusting her legs wide apart to push himself in further. She loves the sensation of being pinned underneath, of having no choice but to stay still under his weight. To stay still and submit.

But that's hard to replicate with a sex toy.

She's starting to feel a little greedy. She wants more. She runs the crop along the inside of her thighs and climaxes picturing herself wearing a brand new pair of pony boots.

Even in her submission she's still a materialist.