Day 5: Contemplating the Reality
And so it started to become real. Having had all my arguments rebutted, understanding that the stance that this was some form of sexual oppression was a narrow subjective view at best, I was left with only the concept (and thats exactly what it was when I reflected) that submission would not be something that appealed to me, that even if it appealed to other women that it remained anathema to my sensibilities. Trouble is with the intensity of our conversations I was no longer convinced that it didn’t appeal to me. I went through all the usual over analisation I had come used to in my life and I decided that I would spend a week with no communication to get my mind straight on the subject. However I would be lucky if it went much more than an hour without thoughts of one aspect of our conversations or what they implied were at the forefront of my mind even when busy at work or in the midst of some other activity or other. It seems the seed had been sown. I lasted 3 day and by then his suggestion that I give it a try for real actually came to be stronger with the lack of debate which I guess acted as a balm in some way.
So the next day I sent a message that I was willing to try, but only on my terms I made clear even now I was convinced that if I were to experiment I was to remain in control. Of course that was ridiculous as this was all about giving up actual control, its about the confidence in yourself and the person(s) you give it to that’s important. Truth is that I had during the previous weeks already found that confidence in this professional, sophisticated Man, it was confidence in myself I still sought. Of course issues of safety were paramount but as things stood that was not an issue and to establish concrete confidence was all part of surrendering power remotely in my own safe environment.
He replied so politely that it seemed totally out of keeping with what we were about to embark on, however I was grateful. However it was clear that it was no surprise to him that I had agreed to it which was a little disconcerting at the time. The confidence in him was palpable and in an authorative but gentle fashion my first instruction. Strangely it wasn’t quite what I expected, my initial feeling was from memory of being underwhelmed, dissappointed even, which immediately brought a blush to my face at such realisation.
“Sometimes surrender means giving up trying to understand and becoming comfortable with not knowing.” destiny
The instruction was plain and simple, I was to go to my bedroom choose my tightist vest top, I now realised why over the weeks he had shown an interest in my wardrobe even as we discussed more profound matters, he was that confident of this development. I was to put it on and wait and stand in front of the mirror. I did this is hardly erotic or submissive I thought. My mobile rang, I had received a message. ‘ I assume you aren’t wearing a bra’. ‘No’ I replied quickly removing it in embarrassment that I hadn’t understood the command. I returned to the mirror and notice how prominant my nipples were through this thin top, unusually so I noted with another blush. I actually closed my eyes for a moment but another message arrived. ‘… and I assume that you are wearing nothing below the waist … except heels’. Well it was pointless trying to claim I had anticipated that so meekly I relied ‘sorry will do’. I stripped off my skirt and underwear and rushed to find a pair of high heeled shoes and returned to the mirror. The effect was startling the woman staring back at me was highly sexualised I had been so concerned with the act of changing I hadn’t till this moment considered what in moments I had changed into. I had without a second thought even chosen my highest heeled shoes, ones I had hardly ever worn and had actually passed over others to find. Why had I done that, and the answer was immediate because I instinctively had known what was required of me. Inside of me I had all the knowledge of a submissive, erotic woman… and clearly one who desired to please. Where had that laid all along without my knowledge and clearly so close to the surface that it was so easy and simple to free it. Not only was I seeing the result of that by seeing myself so simply achieved in the mirror, but the time in so doing was making me question so much about myself as I did so. I realised that to stand there wearing only a brief top with nothing below the waist with heels left me in a highly sexualised state of mind and this was only emphasised by my heavy breathing, which only added to the sensual effect of the figure before me. So simple yet so encompassing and so effective. I stood there for maybe ten minutes, who knows it seemed an age. My stupor was broken by my phone again, my only link to the real world at that moment. It wasn’t HIM as I suspected, of all people it was my mother. I dare not move, the spell would have been broken and I didn’t want that. So imagine it there I was in front of that mirror, worse than naked, that could have been normal but not this state, this was anything but and trying to hold a normal conversation with my mother staring at myself not wanting even for moment to lose what I was feeling, my god I had even spread my legs a little without any knowledge this was pure unadulterated instinct and in that moment I realised that I could not deny that HE was right concept had become reality. No it had been reality all along I had just refused to recogonise it. This was after all for me the only question how much of it was for me and I wont deny I still had some fear of that. Who knows what my conversation with mum was all about I barely remember any of it as I focused on not only the image before me but what it concealed too. Another message arrived and I quicky, perhaps too quickly finished the call with my mother pushing away my old world for my new one? Maybe I am just looking for symbolism who knows. I read it. ‘Was I wet yet’. And a moment’s realisation made me realise yes I was, but then the glow to my cheeks as I thought, how can I tell him that. Worse how could I not. I simply texted ‘yes’. Another long wait, a new message. ‘I didnt really need to ask. Ok you will now blindfold yourself and lay on your bed, your legs spread’. Then ‘ After an hour you can remove the blindfold but you will spend the rest of the day as you are’. I thought of saying I cant I’m going out tonight but I thought better of it and decided to cancel it instead, don’t ask me why I just wanted to please this Man.
I searched around and found something that would do as a blindfold. I put it on and lay on the bed. Another message I raised the blindfold for a moment worrying I shouldnt but thankfully it was from him. ‘Oh I nearly forgot before you take off the blindfold (again) you ill close your curtains… or if you closed them already open them’. That had got me for I had indeed already closed them. A cold shiver went through me, and as I lay there as instructed that last demand really scared me. We weren’t exactly overlooked but it could happen that I would be seen in that moment by the window fumbling for the curtains. Not knowing was the real scary bit and of course not knowing if I had been seen like that with the blindfold. Further still how low was my ledge after all my time in this place I had nver considered whether my pussy was higher or lower than the window seal strange now yes, but hardly so before this afternoon. Thats how my mind was changing and as i lay thereit gave me time for ll sorts of new thoughts of that nture too enter my mind even the most normal thought and pastime was now having to pass the sexulisation test, some passed many didn’t. I must have laid there for well over an hour I could not have faced removing that blind fold even a minute before hand. And then I had to face up to that last command, the curtains, could I do it. The answer was as I knew it would be yes. Having done it and quickly removed the fold I quickly took a look out and thought it highly unlikely that anyone had but even the thought that they could scared me, but more importantly it aroused me more. I had no more contact with him that day, I assume he knew that I would complete all he asked but a part of me thought him an arrogant bastard for being that confident. But I accepted it was certainly not over confidence on his part any more was it, probably i was just annoyed more than anything that I hadn’t heard from him again. All sorts of emotions hit me during that evening oh yes the whole gambit, especially embarrassment that I had become until now something I had lets be honest despised. However I never seriously thought about dressing or even taking off those heels despite them killing me. In fact I even went to bed in them and only removed them when I awoke sometime after midnight. It seems I was hooked.
WORDS FROM HIM that struck to the very heart of my being…
‘A woman kept naked below the waist, especially when framed by a sexy top and heels, is a very erotic sight, with the shirt and shoes serving to emphasise and draw attention to her bare pussy – and it has some very deep and interesting effects on her mental state, too. Especially if imposed for hours… or longer. Being kept naked is very potent overall, but offers a getout clause – fully naked, you can escape into feeling normal and relaxed; being naked can be innocent, after all – every woman is naked every time she gets in the shower, thinking of humdrum things. But when you are being deliberately kept naked below the waist like this, with high standards of clothing above and below, dictated by a man who knows exactly why he’s doing it and what it’s doing to you, it feels very different – being kept like this can only ever be sexual, and sexualised; never innocent, and the knowledge that you’re being held like this at someone’s whim and under someone’s control is a deeply erotic feeling, don’t you think?
The following days were a mix of perfectly normal, at least outside of my mind and similar events to those I related above, all a little different and some mystifying at first but equally intriguing for that, with different levels of intensity and I gradually began to crave them as they added a focus to my day, a highly erotic focus. I was told to wear stockings or thigh highs on certain days, something I rarely did but now these items made my skin electric with sensual thoughts. I so loved them that I ended up asking to wear them constantly, which made me blush when he clearly enjoyed that request and I blushed some more when he said that I was to shave my neatly trimmed pubic hair. The effect of that is as much psychological as physical, indeed so much that seemed unexceptional became mind numbingly erotic when performed in those underlying circumstances, so many emotions were released by it that you have to experience to fully appreciate. He requested that I get hold of a copy of ‘The Story of O’ a book I knew of but had not read. For anyone who hasn’t read it this book is a maelstrom of intense, sensual and emotional sexual submission when compared to the insubstantial morning mist of 50 Shades. Not for everyone perhaps but certainly I became addicted.
So when he informed me one day that I should carefully package all my underwear, seal and date the packages I did so. They say that the proof of anything worthwhile is in the detail and it was precisely this sort of detail that I found was the essense of my arousal very personal, secret, very safe yet very exposed all at the same time, this man knew exactly what he was doing to ignite, feed and expand things inside me that he understood better than I, at least I understand what known unknowns are now even if new ones seem to appear out of the ether at any given moment, moments given by him but experienced by me, hope I am not getting too esoteric here. And I found not wearing underwear liberating it kept me focused on him and when I did it was pleasure I felt. Very circular. Other requests were to leave off my bra on a day of his choice, how many buttons I could do up on my blouse and to dress or undress with a curtain partly or fully opened. I didntn’t have to do any of these tasks but I found that I wanted to, indeed that I looked forward to be given these tasks.
I had discovered that there were times that I did not want to be the leader I had to be during the day or perhaps it was that I needed that picking through the minefield of dealing with authority figures in my normal life where the interactions were something of a game of chess that never truly came to a natural conclusion just a series of little battles. I could not win this game outright and the only way I could achieve resolution was to surrender and accept the total authority of the opposing King, rather than endlessly pursue this tiring ongoing debate, one step forward and so often two back, my life seemed to pan out before me in this way. Resolving it in my academic world was clearly not an option what with people in front and behind fighting their corner over the most obscure of matters, but here in my own private world I had discovered not only that I could find the resolve I sought clear, distinct and decisive but it was actually helping me in my ‘real’ life, as things seemed less opressive they became easier to navigate and resolve.
Yes I had decided that an important and previously latent part of me wants to live darkly and richly in my femaleness. I want a man lying over me, always over me. His will His pleasure, His desire, His life, His work, His sexuality the touchstone, the command, the pivot. I don’t mind working, holding my ground intellectually, artistically, but as a woman, oh god, as a woman I want to be dominated, I dont want that unending fight to gain or lose ground. I don’t mind being told to stand on my own feet, not to cling, be all that I’m capable of doing, but I above all want to be pursued, fucked, possessed by the will of a Male at His time, His bidding. I have never understood when people, mostly women, say that serving, surrendering in whatever situation, is a form of liberation… I do now. I realise a lot of women want this but understandably are scared to pursue it. But when a safe rewarding way presents it self to explore it however the desire is more intense than I could ever have conceived of. And that above all is why this man is so important to me he has allowed me to explore myself, what seem like dangerous wild lands to any well brought up girl in a safe and sane environment. That is true release and the balance I have been seeking without realising it.
This had been going on for some time when the final act of submission seemed to become a natural progression. Everything up to now was I began to realise a preparation for what was to come but it wasn’t at his insistence that I face up to that it was mine. So one day at probably the third or fourth attempt I asked him If I could meet him. He told me what would be expected of me if we did and if I were ready. After a few moments of contemplation I said I was, I was sure of it indeed I was more sure of it than anything in my life. He said how much that meant to him but that I would have to contact him in 3 days and re confirm what I had said. That concern meant so very much to me.