#femalesubmission
Choosing to follow does not make you lesser but ignoring your heart to fit in certainly does.
These days little girls grow up learning that they can do anything, achieve anything, that they can be just as good as the boys at whatever they want to do. They are taught that they should take charge as future leaders and that any reluctance they may feel is because of society’s problems. That’s right… the patriarchy.
This is all well and good for many of them but there are always a few girls who silently think to themselves that it doesn’t sound right, that it feels more natural to let the boys make the decisions and to just follow their lead. The problem is that they are then taught to believe that sort of thinking is bad, it’s confusing to be told that something you see as natural is bad even though in your heart you know it’s right.
Masters are very kind to us women: they take time to teach us lessons though they are very busy and have important stuff to do! hope she realizes her fortunate situation!
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What do these two things have in common? They’re not my fantasy. I don’t get excited thinking about doing these things.
I don’t hate it. It doesn’t hurt me, I’m not opposed to it. They just aren’t a turn FOR me. But they’re not hard limits. They’re a big part of my life.
Why?
He likes it. A lot. While I would never instigate it, I find myself in a pickle afterward. When he’s asking what I liked, how I felt when he did certain things, i have to be honest.
And honestly…
I sort of dread that initial jaw opening to receive him in my mouth. And then he’s inside me, gripping my ponytail, telling me I’m a good girl, holding my chin, giving my ass cheeks a smack when he wants more. And when that happens, I suddenly can’t think of anything else but taking him down my throats and making him sigh, gasp, and moan. When he’s done, I’m dazed and confused. Why is it over? I was doing what he told me to do. The descent into subspace is real.
He doesn’t bark orders or throw in expletives to his commands. They’re direct and calm. When chaos surrounds us and I hear his Dom Voice and says “Head over to your spot.” I flinch a little. I don’t want to be corrected. But I see his set jaw, serious look in his face, and concern for me. So I hand over my phone and head to my “spot.” I head to our bathroom and put my hands on my head, face the corner, and start taking deep breaths. Our bathroom isn’t big, we aren’t billionaires in Seattle. the door can’t open once i am behind it.
I bounce between being pissed off to trying to settle down. Eventually he comes in. “Is my good girl feeling better?” He holds me, we’ll discuss.
If our kids are still running around, then he’ll send me back out after a nasty dozen with the tilt wand. Neither of us like it, but it’s silent and hurts.
I never want to go to the corner. I have too much to do. But I always leave in a better headspace.
Corner time incorporated to punishment or play is another stomach drop. My man has crazy self control. He’s sent me to the corner in the middle of intense sex bc I orgasmed without permission. Shock. And. Awe. He can hold off, wait for my punishment to end, then dive back into me. He slays me when he doms so hard.
I struggle to stay still when he introduces a new implement or it’s he’s using wooden implements after a long stretch without.
So he stops and sends me to the Naughty Spot. Kneeling corner time is always a good deterrent.
When I start wiggling about, he’ll pause the spanking. “Can you participate in this punishment or should we pause, then start over?”
I try so hard to gather my breath and stay still. Starting over sucks. Starting over with tired arms from hands on head, sore knees from the hard floor, and an achy back from being so stiff just sucks.
And thanks to the internet, he’ll never run out of ways to make corner time more humbling…
Not a favorite activity, but it’s incredibly effective. I’ve been surprised by how non-sexy consequences grow him as a Dom, and in turn, deepen my submission.
He is a good, good Dom bc he knows my needs before I do.
Like that I really, really needed held down while he fucked my ass. I didn’t know being pinned would give me the release I needed to let go of so much pent up emotion.
He knew I needed pulled over his knee for a long hand spanking. I wanted a quickie and sleep. He left my pajama pants up and spanked, and spanked, spanked until I totally relaxed and started talking.
He knows when something seemingly minor is a reflection of something bigger, and being a tough disciplinarian is required. I fuss inside and shoot him pouty looks as I’m ordered to the corner, to kneel, retrieve implement and request my spanking. But gosh I start calming down with each step in the routine. And when I just can’t take it anymore but don’t want to safe word yet, he intensifies the spanking just enough that I’m putty. Either splitting my legs open so the paddle hits inside my thighs and my pussy, or landing the belt right on my asshole, or shoving his fingers in without lube while he spanks my thighs, or flipping me on my back, holding my legs up and open, he’ll whip my thighs while I’m exposed and he can watch how wet I’m getting, Those things that are just too much, turn me into a Sobbing, sopping wet, emotionally and physically exhausted mess. I’m in the submissive zone then, I am *his*.
