Reflections part 2f: The Painful Ending

Part 2e pretty much spelled the end of the "golden age" of our relationship which leads me to the beginning of the end.

That December I graduated from college finally with nearly double the amount of credits needed to get a degree.  K and I had plans for me to drive out after Christmas and spend a couple of weeks at her home.  We were both very excited.

Things continued on from where we left off in 2e but with a few slight twists.  K decided she wanted all of my orgasms to happen in sissy slave mode, while dressed and facing the mirror.  This was a bit of a surprise to me but I went along with it without resistance.  I realized she was firmly set on wanting me to be able to wear and appreciate fur normally.  She continued giving me writing and reading assignments and I added a few sissy slave fantasy stories for her.  It still made me feel fucked up inside, but it seems the original block was broken.

K began to tease more and more about dressing, public outings, and the like.  I'm not sure if she was doing it for her (since she seemed to genuinely enjoy it) or if it was part of her plan for me.  It could have been a little bit of both.  I realize now that what happened actually created a great divide within me as a sub.  I had my normal submissive self that took pride as being a good lover and companion, and I had the sissy slave self that was ashamed to even exist but could persevere out of his love for K.
She told me she was going to get me an outfit with ruffle-butt panties and a maid's outfit with all the fur trimmings, complete with locking buckles.  It would be pink "of course."  A few days before Christmas K let me know that we would have to cancel my trip due to some "things that were going on." I pressed a little bit and it seems there were complications going on with the divorce and her family.  We continued as we had but this was going to be a fairly long break without any in-person contact.

K continued to keep me busy.  She had some ruffle-butt panties and girlie socks shipped to me and gave me another shopping assignment.  K wanted me to get another "full set," but this time in real fur, they had to match the panties, and instead of just anything they had to be the most embarrassing items possible.  Part of my daily assignments was to find pictures of items online for the slave outfit that would "please her," but she wanted me to get some of the items locally.  To make sure they matched, K ordered me to bring the panties with me in my pocket. Before I could state any disapproval she said if I didn't, I'd be wearing the socks while shopping instead.

This assignment was a bit bigger of a struggle since there's 294802849320 shades of pink and the number of local retailers that carried real fur were few and far between.  It was also significantly more embarrassing.  I ended up getting pretty lucky as I was able to find some pieces at a discount store, though I had to go a bit "modular."  Christmas shopping was over by now and everything was a lot less hectic.  I ended up with pink gloves with fur cuffs purchased separately, giant fur earmuffs, a headband that would double as a collar, and a scarf.  I didn't manage to find a hat that matched perfectly but K let me use my punishment hat instead with 10 additional marks.

The first time we did our phone masturbation game K had at least 5 orgasms before she let me have mine.  Doing this with real fur and it being pink made me feel even more fucked up but the orgasms were increasingly intense as she went farther and farther with her verbal teasing.  Our next meeting was planned for late January.  Sometime in mid-January she went dark for a couple of days.  Over the past year we hadn't gone for more than 12 hours without contact and this was three and a half days before I heard from her.  No assignments, no contact at all.

When she resurfaced she let me know we would have to cancel our next meet up.  I asked her about it and she said that the custody battle was going to court and that would have her occupied for a few weeks.  We didn't plan a date for our next meet up but things at least returned mostly to normal with contact, assignments, and the like.  February arrived and she still couldn't commit to plans.

I was starting to get a bit scared.  I had finally graduated.  I had a good job offer on the other side of the country.  My lease was running out on my apartment.  My family was giving me shit about not already having a job or internship lined up.  The stress began to mount.  I know that K wasn't giving me full explanations.  In mid-February she went dark again for two days.  She returned with some news.  At a visit to the doctor they found a new tumor.  I immediately broke down and cried.

We still talked daily but there were no more assignments.  K had fallen into depression and started to let herself go.  I told her I would drop everything and move there now.  She told me not to.  I begged her.  She told me she wouldn't see me if I did.  She refused to talk about future plans.  I started throwing up about 6 times a day.  I could barely eat, I could barely sleep.  I asked her what she wanted me to do.  She told me to take the job and renew my apartment lease.  I told her I wanted to be with her.  She told me no.  It hurt so much.  I was supposed to be there for her, with her, loving her until the end no matter what.

Her long awaited surgery was set for August. We had always planned for me to be there with her... the last one she saw before going in, the first one she saw coming out.   The new tumor changed everything.  K began to get her personal things in order.  It was clear to me that she had given up and was planning on dying.  I felt horribly helpless, unable to be there for her, unable to comfort her.  I was being selfish, thrashing around in the remains of my broken dreams.

K lost at least 35 lbs in the next 5 weeks due to not eating.  She was like a skeleton.  I begged her every day to let me be with her.  The closest I got to a response was when she told me if she survived the surgery she would come back to me.  I cried when she told me this since I knew that with how she was going, she wasn't going to survive the surgery.  The doctors told her they wanted her to be at least 130 lbs. to be strong enough to survive and recover.  When I met her she was 105.  When she was with me she got up to 125+.  By this time I was guessing she was 90 lbs. or less.

I spent a good portion of each day in tears or throwing up.  My stomach was ruining itself and I had a lot of internal bleeding going on.  I passed on the job offer.  I negotiated a month to month arrangement on my apartment.  I had a bag packed ready to leave at a moment's notice.  K started going dark for days at a time fairly regularly now.  During a stretch in late March I steeled my resolve to make another last ditch effort.  When we finally got in contact again, she was almost like a stranger.  The warmth and love was nowhere in her voice.

"K, marry me.  I will be with you through anything.  I will be there for you through anything.  I will be by your side and love you with everything I have.  I will keep loving you no matter what.  I will be there for you, no matter what, even if that means that I have to watch you die."

I don't remember her voice, just the words, "I'm sorry, but I've made up my mind.  If I'm alive in October I'll come to you."

I immediately threw up a large pool of blood on the floor and collapsed, sobbing.  She stayed on the line, in silence as I cried and wailed for 10 minutes.  When I finally stopped, drained of energy and hope, I said a phrase I have come to regret and hate myself for ever since.

"I don't know if I can promise my love to you." She hung up.

That was the last we ever spoke.  She never again replied to any emails or answered any of my calls.  I tried her parents, people she knew, they all just told me to stop calling and ended up blocking my calls.  I wanted to apologize for what I said.  That I was too weak in the moment, spoke without thinking, and I betrayed the both of us.  I kept it up for several months but got no response at all.  To this day I do not know for sure if she survived the surgery.

This was the most painful experience of my life.  Writing this reminded me of that.  In some ways, I don't think I ever fully recovered from it.

To be continued in part 3.

Reflections part 2e: slavespace and Feminization

I realized that K must have been doing research ever since she got home.  That was how she seemed to approach new things in D/s.  She would read everything she could both informational writings as well as fetish and fantasy writings.  I was still unable to wrap my head around what was going on.

Later on I found a pic similar to this one in my mailbox:

It included a message saying "they're called ruffle-butt panties, aren't they cute?"

K refused to chat with me until I finished the assignment she had given me to find pictures of embarrassing fur items.

The list included the following (although the reasons are extremely abbreviated vs. what I wrote her originally.  These aren't the original pictures either):

1. Big fur earmuffs.  They just look super silly.

 


2. A fur muff.  You can't use your hands.  I included a link to the story I had found on the old ntcweb forums of On Parade in Fur

3. Fur pom pom hats.  They look silly.

 



4. Fur leg warmers.  Super girlie and funny looking.



5. Fur-trimmed mittens.  Warm but they limit hand use and coordination.  Very out of place on a man if they are frilly looking.

I sent off the list and included the pictures.  K didn't reply back to me until the following evening.  I was worried she was angry but she just wanted some time to digest things and investigate.  She informed me that earlier that day she had gone to the local fur and leather shop and really delved into what they had.

"How come none of the furs you like me to wear look like those?" she asked.
"They aren't sexy.  I think it's sexy when you look powerful."
"I tried some of those on today at the shop.  They aren't sexy.  I took some pictures if you want to see them."

I replied yes.  She sent the selfies that she had captioned.  She was making silly faces in most of them.  K had found a pair of huge fox fur earmuffs.  The first was labeled "Uber-Geek Chic."  Another said "I think these are bigger than my head..."  She informed me she wasn't able to take a picture of the mittens since she she couldn't hit the camera button with them on.  Also, they didn't have any hats that were "that bad" at the shop but she understood what I meant.  The leg warmers actually looked really good on her as they suited her figure well.  The picture was captioned "I guess these are sort of sexy..."

One of the funnier moments was to follow.  Mistress went on a 15 minute rant about fur muffs and her experience in the store.  She was quite animated as she recounted the story.
"I don't get it!!!"
The employee replied, "you put your hands in each end to keep you warm?"
"No, that part I get, I don't get who would use one of these instead of gloves."
"I don't really know," they replied.
"Like, what are you supposed to do with it when you don't have your hands inside of it?"
"This has a wrist strap and you hang it from your wrist?"

She hung it from her wrist and started to move her arm around.

"This thing is huge.  If I hung it from my wrist it would swing all over like a wrecking ball and knock everything over in sight if I wanted to move my arm."
"Well, you are supposed to use it in place of a purse," they replied.
"How?"
The employee showed her a pocket hidden in the fur.  She pressed her hand into the pocket.
"In place of a purse?  I couldn't even fit a tampon in there!"

At this point the employee started to laugh.
"I don't get it!!!"
K picked up another one and slid them up each forearm, extending her arms out making fake punching sounds.

We had a good laugh about it together.
"You know, I did think about getting one for you, that way I could take you out in public with your hands chained together and no one would know."
My face flushed a hot red and my penis went erect.  I didn't say anything.

She used this chance to tease me.
"Are you a sissy slave right now?"
"I don't feel right, Mistress."

Later that night K gave me an assignment to complete that week that I would have to do in order to get off of punishment.

"I feel weird, Mistress."
"You'll be fine."
"I don't feel okay, Mistress."
"Are you saying no to me?"

The assignment was a solo shopping trip.  K wanted me to go to a store and buy a "full set" of fur items for me to wear around the house.  It had to include at a minimum:  A hat, scarf, gloves, and earmuffs.  If there was any more items available she expected me to get those too.  She specifically mentioned mittens, a collar, headband, muff, and fur trimmed socks or leg warmers as optional but "highly encouraged" items.  She didn't care what color they were but she said they all had to match.  They could be real or faux fur.  I asked why she wanted me to get both gloves and mittens and she explained she wanted me to be able to type with gloves on but there were other times where she preferred mittens.  I was allowed to be on the phone with her at the store.

Christmas shopping season had started and all of the stores were pretty well packed but at the same time it made it look like I was shopping for a gifts for someone else.  As I drove to the store I felt my stomach gradually knotting up.  I pulled into the parking lot, found a spot, and called K.

"How do you feel?"
"I feel like I'm going to throw up."
"You'll be fine."
"I think my face is on fire, Mistress."
"You haven't even gone into the store yet and you're already embarrassed?"
"Yes, Mistress.  My cheeks, forehead, ears, they are all burning."
"You'll be fine."

Inside the store I headed for the women's accessories section.  K kept talking to me in full sentences but I kept my responses brief and without detail.

"Are there other people around you?"
"Yes."
"Are they all women?"
"Yes."
"How many are there?"
"Three."
"Are they looking at you?"
"No."
"Are you sweating?"
"Yes."
"I bet once you start touching things they will look at you."
I grunted in disapproval.
"You think they won't know but it's obvious these are for a sissy slave."
I didn't respond.
"Are you hard?"
"Yes."
"Are they looking at you?"
"One is."  I began to get even more agitated.

As I searched for items I learned a valuable lesson.  Where I live, winter accessories go up for sale mid to late September with the full line in early October.  It gets quite cold here as well.  Attempting to buy a "full set" that late in the year was not a good idea.  Everything was picked over rather hard and a complete set wasn't going to be possible there.  All items were present, but scattered across different colors.  By now I was dripping with sweat.

"They don't have it."
"Any of it? Or the full set?"
"Set."
"Are you going to get any of it?"
"No."
"Trying a different store?"
"Yes.  I have to go, is that okay?"
"Yes, call me when you get to the next store."

I got into my car and put my forehead on the steering wheel.  I felt like I was going to pass out.  I couldn't breathe and I wanted to vomit.  After about 10 minutes I started the car and drove to another store.  I called K.  Her teasing didn't bother me as much this time.  This store didn't have a matched set either and I learned another valuable lesson.

When it comes to fur items, women tend to go after the most simple/basic items or ones that they would deem "super cute" in a fashion sense.  Items that are "6 year old girl" cute or are halfway between simple and fashionably cute must not sell well because the stores were full of those.  Also, most women must favor neutral colors.  Black, Brown, Gray (anything that could qualify as unisex) were picked over.    Odd shades of purple, bright yellow, and neon pink were in abundance.  I was starting to feel overwhelmed.  I had barely made peace with trying to find the most simple black, brown, or gray items and getting the hell out ASAP.  At this point I resigned myself that this was going to embarrass me more than I had initially hoped.

The third day of shopping luck finally smiled upon me.  I found a store that had sold out of everything early in the season and had just gotten restocked on winter accessories.  By now I had grown almost accustomed to the 102 degree fever my face was burning up with and I grabbed a shopping basket.  The section was packed with people.  I began to sweat.  A quick visual scan and it looked like white would work.
"It's so noisy, there must be a ton of people around you," said K on the phone.
"Tons."
"Are they looking at you?"
"No."
"I wonder what they'd say if they knew a sissy slave was shopping for the same things as them?"
I didn't reply.
"Women are more intuitive than men, I'm sure at least a couple of them know."
I stayed silent.
"Are you hard?"
"Yes."
"You know, if you actually talked to me you would probably look less conspicuous."
"They have them."
"What do they have?"
"All of them."
"A full set?"
"Yes."
"What color?"
"White."

I had to speak loud over the hustle and bustle of Christmas shoppers.
I took a pair of fur-trimmed gloves off the rack and put them in the basket.  That's when I realized that speaking on the phone had the opposite effect.  A quick glance showed me that there were 5 women who were now watching me.  I felt like I was going to puke.

"They're looking at you now aren't they?"
"Yes."
"Are you still hard?"
"Yes."

Quickly stepping in and out of bodies I just grabbed one of everything white off the rack and put it in the basket.  Some of them were buried deep on the rack so I had to reach deep in to get them.  For some reason this one woman kept deciding to block the exact rack I was going for.  She would turn and look to where I was going then stop and pause in front of it for what felt like an hour before moving on and letting me in.  I finally finished and quickly walked out and towards the checkout.  I was dripping with sweat by now and my face was still burning up.

Another fun attribute of  shopping during the Christmas season is the checkout lines.  I found the "shortest" one, which was about 6 customers deep.  I had sort of wished I had gotten some other things as standing in a long, slow line holding a shopping basket of white fur felt awkward.

"Are you in line now?"
"Yes."
"How do you feel?"
"Not good."
"Awww."
"I wish you were here."
"I wish I was there too.  But if I was there, I'd still make you shop by yourself while I watched from a distance, but this time you'd be in tight sweatpants and a remote control vibrating cock ring.  Would you like that more?"
"No."
"You know when you say no what usually happens right?"
"Yes."
"Are you hard?"
"Yes."
"Good."

I turned my head and realized that the woman who had been blocking me in the section was directly behind me in line.  35 minutes later I could finally put my basket at the register.  I stayed on my phone like a douche bag.  The clerk removed each item, scanned them, then spent several seconds folding each item and placing them carefully into a bag.

"Can I get a gift receipt?"
"How many do you need?"
"Umm, one for each?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes and shook her head.  The woman behind me in line let out a pshaw.

"She knows those aren't even gifts," said K.  "Look at her face, she knows you're a sissy slave."
"No."
"You know, if you had only bought one or two items a gift would have been believable."
"I'm almost done."  I attempted to just small talk until it was over.
"If you had asked for one gift receipt she may have bought it."

I left the store and got into my car, hung up with K and drove home.  When I got home she was waiting online and told me to get ready to model them on cam.  I didn't even realize how much I had bought, I just grabbed one of everything.  They were all faux.  The items ended up being: one pair of gloves with fur cuffs, two pairs of earmuffs (one over the head and one with a knit around the head headband), a bucket hat, a hood with fur trim and an attached scarf, a fur scarf, a fur headband, and a fur collar that had a ribbon tie.

"Nothing with pom poms?" she asked while doing a fake, exaggerated frown.

After seeing them all, K gave me instructions to put on the collar, gloves, scarf, the pink punishment hat, and the headband earmuffs over it.  I did as instructed, my face burning hotter than when I was in the store and my penis went erect.  She gave another set of instructions to position the webcam so it was facing the mirror on my door and to call her and put her on speaker phone.

"Pinch your nipples."
I did as she said while looking at the ground.
"Look at yourself in the mirror."
"I don't want to, Mistress."
"Look at yourself, now!"
I did as instructed.  I looked ridiculous and my face was completely red.
"Your dick is hard isn't it?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Stroke it."
"Yes, Mistress."
"Keep looking at yourself."
"Yes, Mistress."
"Faster."
"Yes, Mistress."

Her breathing went erratic, I could tell she was masturbating as she continued to speak.

"Stroke it... faster..."
"Yes, Mistress."
"They... all... knew... this is... what you... would... be... doing."
I didn't respond.
"Si... ssy... slave... in pret... ty... white... fur."
I didn't respond.
"Say it!  Say you're a sissy slave!"  I could tell she was getting close to an orgasm.
"I don't feel good, Mistress."
"Say it!  Now!"
"I'm a sissy slave," I mumbled.
"I can't hear you!!"
"I'm a sissy slave."  She let out a loud moan as she came. Her breathing returned to normal.
"Yes, you're a sissy slave in pretty white fur.  Stroke it faster.  Keep looking at yourself."
"Yes, Mistress."  I continued.
"Who does this sissy slave belong to?"
"To you, Mistress."
"Yes, you... are... mine." Her breathing told me she had started again.
"Thank you, Mistress."
"Does... the... si... ssy... slave... like... his new... fur?"
"It makes me feel screwed up, Mistress."
"Why should... Mis... tress... care... how... a... slave... feels?"
I didn't respond.
"I... can... do... what... ever... I want... with you.  Oh... I'm so wet..."

K must have moved the phone near her crotch.  I could hear the sound of her fingers rubbing back and forth and it sounded like a child splashing in the bathtub.

"I'm... so... wet... sissy..."  The next sounds were mostly moans as she came for the second time in under 5 minutes.

"Keep stroking it.  Look at yourself."
"Yes, Mistress."
"Are you close?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"How close?"
"Very close, can I cum please, Mistress?"
"Not yet."
"Think about how good this feels, sissy slave.  Think about how happy this makes me.  You're going to do this whenever I want you to."
"I'm close, Mistress."
"Not yet.  Do you love me?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Do you trust me?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Does this feel good?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Does it feel good to be a sissy slave?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Moan louder."
I let out a low moan.
"Louder!"
I got louder.
"Keep going."  I frantically tried to hold back which gave me a desperate feeling inside.  The pitch of the noises coming out of my mouth started to sound more like suffering.
"Louder!"
"Can I cum please, Mistress?"
"Now cum!"

I exploded onto the mirror.  It was a vicious orgasm both volume and force.
"Thank you, Mistress. I love you."
"Clean up quickly and call me back."

I did as instructed.
"How do you feel?"
"A little weird."
"Was the orgasm good?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Are you a sissy slave?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"No, you're not.  Now come back to me.  You may remove the fur."  I undressed.
"You're my sub now, not my sissy slave.  Come back to me."
"I love you, Mistress."
"I love you to.  Now come back to me.  Do you feel better?"
"Yes, Mistress.  I feel a lot better."
"Are you my sub now?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Devoted only to me?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Good.  That was your second layer."
"It scares me, Mistress."
"It should scare you.  There's a reason that I want you to be a sub and not a slave, but I think you'll need that part of you to become comfortable with your fetishes."
"I love you so much.  How was your orgasm?"
"I think you could tell."
"You came faster than usual.  Does that mean you like that part of me better?"
"I don't know.  This is new to me.  I know I love the sub you, but I think your sissy slave is good as well."

I've realized a few things now that I didn't see back then.  Firstly, I think I was heavily blinded by her confidence that I didn't give credence to the pressure she must have felt trying to be a good Domme.  In most cases it takes years to get comfortable with and K was doing very well after a matter of months, learning while she went.  I think some of the difficulties that we had were due to the inexperience but she never shared that side with me and I sort of wish she would have.

Second, I can barely fathom just how much reading she must have done in 3 days to be able to gain some understanding of my fledgling slavespace vs. subspace and how to bring me back from it.  I know she really cared about me.

Through this I also really got a sense that K really got off on humiliation.  When I was out shopping she would just say things that would increase my self-consciousness and agitation.  As if dealing with the inner battle wasn't enough, adding doubt by getting me to focus on others was quite the cherry on top, keeping in mind that this was really my first time out doing something like this.

Random note:  If anyone finds the back and forth quotes too much of a burden to read without having a "she said" "I said" on every line, let me know and I can add them.

To be continued.

Reflections part 2d: Fur and Discoveries

Now, about that fur...

When we returned from the store (at the end of 2b), K sat me down and we had a talk.  For some reason I had built up walls and she was determined to tear them down.  K had me kneeling in front of her, naked, while she sat on a chair in front of me.  I was told to look at the floor.  I could tell she was disappointed in me.

"Why were you being so disagreeable at the store?" asked K.
I shrugged my shoulders.
"Tell me," she commanded.
I bit my lip.  She lifted my chin until our eyes met.
"Tell me."
"It made me feel weird, Mistress."
"Weird how?"
"I don't know, just weird."
"I think you're lying to me, you know that's unacceptable."
I looked down again but she forced my chin up.
"Try," she ordered.
I was floundering, stuck someplace mentally I didn't understand.  I relied on impulse.  I turned my eyes to the floor and blurted out, "Fur is for girls, Mistress!"
"It's not just for girls," K replied.
"Yes it is," I whimpered unable to look at her.
"Even if it is just for girls, you'd wear it if I ordered you to, wouldn't you?"
I couldn't respond.  My body was frozen.  I couldn't speak or move an inch.
"Stay here," she ordered.  I didn't watch as she walked away and returned.

I felt the touch of fur on my neck.
"Raise your head."

I did as instructed.  It was a fur scarf that I had purchased for her as a gift.  It was long and made of black fur with a fur pom pom on each end.  She wrapped it around my neck and tied it off, adjusting it so that the pom poms were the same height as my nipples.  My breathing became heavy and I began to fidget.

"How do you feel?"  I couldn't speak and my head was spinning so badly that I didn't know what to think or feel.
"Does it feel good?"
I nodded.
"It feels nice, doesn't it?"
I nodded.
"I think you like it," she said as she moved her foot against my fully erect penis.  I closed my eyes. The scarf smelled like her.  K moved the ends of the scarf so that the pom poms touched my nipples.

"Go to time out," she commanded.  "Think about how you let me down today."

I went and knelt in the corner with my hands behind my head.  I was naked and wearing nothing but the scarf.  My penis stayed erect.  I heard K go and get on the computer and my thoughts spiraled all over the place.  I wracked my brain to the best of my abilities.  After about an hour she returned to me.

"Turn around, stay kneeling, don't look at me."
I complied.
"What is bothering you?" she asked.
"I don't want to be a sissy, Mistress," I replied in a meek voice.
"And you think wearing fur makes you a sissy?"
I nodded.
"If I wanted you to be a sissy, there's nothing you could do about it is there?"
I didn't move or respond.  I could tell she took that as a no.
"You want me to be happy, right?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"You want to please me, right?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"If I wanted you to be a sissy, you would be a sissy, right?  Don't you dare say no to me."
"Yes, Mistress," I said in a voice barely louder than a whisper.
"Stay here."

She moved across the room to her bags and returned with a pink beanie in her hand that had a fur pom pom on top.
"You are on punishment until further notice," she said as she pulled the beanie onto my head.  "This hat is a symbol of your punishment.  It's your shame.  You will wear this while you are on punishment and if you are off punishment you will wear it during time out if I am not here, do you understand?"
"Yes, Mistress," I replied, feeling like I was about to cry.
"Good.  I have added 20 marks."

K had instituted the state of being "on punishment" a while ago.  This meant full high protocol with no "normal" D/s time.  Any infractions were given double marks.  If she felt the need to spank me she would do it, but marks could not be cleared from the book while on punishment. 

K returned home the next day, leaving the black scarf and pink hat behind.  As ordered I would remain wearing the scarf any time I was home and the hat any time I was home until she chose to remove punishment.

The following day K brought something up when we were chatting.  We were on webcam to make sure I was dressed appropriately.
"I think you have a second layer," she said.
"Second layer?"
"There are two different submissives in you.  You have your regular submissive in you.  You also have a slave within you.  The submissive is a boy.  The slave is a sissy slave."
"I don't know what that means, Mistress."
"Do you trust me?"
"Of course, Mistress."
"Do you trust me to do what is best for you and the both of us?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"I have an assignment for you.  Write about 5 fur items you would find embarrassing to wear and why.  Find 3 example pictures for each item and rank them in order from least to most embarrassing.  Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mistress."

To be continued.

Reflections part 2c: Difficulties and Complications

I will warn that from here on out, everything gets very messy as many sets of events happened concurrently and it is easier to elaborate upon them individually or risk having it appear like a Game of Thrones episode.

A few months in to the relationship things got a bit more confusing and complicated.  It's safe to say that I was a mess.  The positives up to this point:  K's health was steadily improving, I was deeply in love with someone who loved me, we were both exploring a lifestyle together that was surpassing my deepest fantasies.

There were some difficulties.  K had withheld certain details of her life that she revealed later on which made things a but more complicated.  She was currently the guardian of the child of her deceased brother and in a custody battle with the abusive piece of shit of a mother.  When she asked if it bothered me, it had taken me a bit by surprise but my response was that as long as it didn't make her love me less, it didn't bother me.

A little while later K dropped another bomb on me: she was currently married.  This one messed with me a little bit more but I let her explain it rather than reacting immediately.  They lived in the same home but were separated.  They were friends who had met in their local BDSM community.  He had been in a cautionary tale level of abuse D/s relationship that had messed him up something fierce.  K explained they had eloped after a brief romance and while the marriage was pretty much over after 6 months, with her health situation and some other factors they just hadn't gotten around to getting divorced 2+ years later.  She told me she was going to help him get into a stable living situation before finalizing it.  I chose to believe in her but somewhere the seeds of doubt and fear began to creep in.

A few other things began to confuse me as well.  At the start, K had us compartmentalize certain aspects of the lifestyle.  Basically, we had times that was just hanging out as friends (off time), times where D/s was in effect (on time), and times where a stricter set of D/s rules were going (high protocol).  In addition to these, each day we would have a discussion about the events so far and my previous day's journal entry where we were in our roles were Domme and sub but during these times we had full and open communication on anything.  As time went on, these lines began to blur and her expectations would often flash between roles in an instant and without warning.  This would throw me off a bit.

In hindsight, I realize now that many of these struggles were due to her learning curve in becoming a Domme.  In the moment, I was at a loss because K had always been my authority on the subjects at hand.  For example, if my journal entry had cited something I didn't like and my reluctance to do it again, sometimes we would talk this out and come to an understanding.  Other times K would react as if I just told her no while in high protocol mode and there would be hell to pay.  Soon it was difficult for me to understand what I was supposed to be at any given time and I started to hesitate sharing my entire feelings for fear of repercussions.  This process happened slowly over time so there wasn't any one defining moment where I went from trusting to afraid. 

I also began to understand how K's experiences within the accepted BDSM protocols were trapping her as a Domme.  Intellectually, K was strongly opposed to any ideas that allowed a Domme's power to go beyond mutually agreed upon activities and negotiated limits.  She wanted everything to be mutually pleasurable for both parties and idealized that obedience should always be voluntary without the need for reinforcement.  I'm not sure that K fully understood the differences between male and female submission post-orgasm.  Her experiences were that femsubs post-orgasm feel an even stronger bond and submission to their Dom.  To be blunt, even the best male subs are pretty damn useless and disconnected following an orgasm unless the Domme has a mechanism for an immediate return to subspace. I think my disagreeable nature following an orgasm hurt K's confidence but she was never one to share this information with me.  She also never strayed outside of protocols to correct this as well.

I was aware that things were going a bit awry.  I knew that I was a large part of the problem and I felt terrible because of it.  I began completing additional assignments for her or adding to the lists K had me write early on.  Slowly I peeled back some hard limits (moving them to the list of soft limits), removed many soft limits completely, and began adding to the list of fantasies I would be open to trying.  I was supposed to write a piece of fantasy fiction once a week and I started to write more.  K used these stories to try and understand what made me tick as a submissive and she would find parts that aroused her and she would masturbate to them as well, making them part of her fantasies.  In the stories I began to dial up the intensity of things with the goal of alleviating some of her hesitations and letting her know I was okay with the intensity levels that made her shine the brightest.  It was my way of saying, "Hey, this turns me on too, it's okay to do it this way if you want to."

I gave it a lot of thought, even to the point where it started to scare me.  K was most at home in high protocol mode.  All expectations and behaviors were clear and it was simply a means of my ability to perform and her ability to enforce.  From that part onward in the stories morphed:
-All D/s dynamics were in high protocol mode only.
-I never had another orgasm in the stories.  At first, all orgasms were denied.  Later on, I just focused solely upon her pleasure without any sexual pleasure of my own (except for what caused arousal).
-Displays and symbols of her control became more pronounced and extreme.

After a while we spent a lot less time in normal on mode and the majority of the time in high protocol.  This alleviated a bit of the confusion but I wasn't sure if she was still hesitating.  Gradually her intensity increased.  K had begun to embrace locks over the "honor system" and she would wear the key around her neck sitting just above her cleavage.  When she was there and we would sleep she kept my collar chained to the bed post. She had me get a webcam so that she could monitor my time out sessions when we apart.  We started talking about getting a cage.  The more intense things got, the more excited I became and the deeper my love got for her.  A lot of my thought processes were driven with the goal of making her proud of me.  I started to feel horrible if I let her down in even the slightest way.  This was when I realized just how cathartic punishment was for a sub as a means to atone and wipe the slate clean.

To be continued...

Reflections part 2b: Learning and Training

Continued from part 2.  This is sort of the elaborated version of what I wrote in my "How I became a sissy" post.  I realize that the previous telling of this has some of the events in a different order and told in a slightly different way.  I think I was a bit ashamed and embarrassed when I wrote that and moved them around to make me appear like less of a freak and to improve the flow for its shortened state.

Since we lived a good distance apart, for the next few months we would spend a few days together and a few weeks apart as I finished up my last semester of college and started planning for our future with the idea of me relocating to be with her.  Days we weren't together involved lots of phone and chat time.

To say that K took D/s and her role of Domme seriously would be an understatement.  Every day my mailbox was full of assignments or things to read.  She wanted to know anything and everything about my kinks and fetishes, fantasies, and the like.  She would start her training in advance and it would be put into practice when we were together, each time building up the intensity of our relationship. With her as a fledgling Domme and myself as a novice sub, we were growing together in our roles.

"Make a list of 10 hard limits."
"Make a list of 10 soft limits."
"Make a list of 5 fantasies you might like to try sometime."
"Send me 5 pictures that turn you on."
"Find me 5 fiction stories that turn you on."
"Write 250 words daily in a journal about our experiences together."
"Make a list of 5 things you would like to change about yourself."
"Find 5 items at an online store you think would be fun for play."


From her background in the lifestyle, everything was by the book.  Acceptable activities known in advance.  Limits known in advance.  Safe words.  Green/Yellow/Red.  As I got more comfortable in my role I began to open up more and more about the things that were stirring within me and things got more and more serious.  We planned a collaring ceremony.  We were wanting to get married.

At first, K kept me naked except for a collar and leather wrist and ankle cuffs.  When she was away she had me wear a small bell around my neck 24-7, which I was allowed to keep under my shirt in public.  As things went on, I bared all.  I told her all the things that would turn me on. In a few short months it turned out I was a pretty kinky boy.  Some things were D/s related:  collars, cuffs, leashes, hoods, gags, spreader bars, body worship, cunnilingus, speech/eye contact restrictions, etc.  Others were a little different, especially in regards to how she dressed: fur, leather, boots, gloves, hats, stockings, bustiers/corsets, etc.

It turns out we were a very good match in these areas.  She didn't mind that I wasn't a masochist because she liked that punishments were more pain than pleasure.   I asked her if we could get a locking collar and cuffs.  K asked me why did they need locks, since she didn't foresee me removing them without permission.  I had trouble answering.  She asked me if I she ordered some food if I would answer the door wearing them.  I told her I thought I would be too embarrassed to do that.  She said, "I guess we'll have to get ones that lock."  I whispered to her, "Thank you, they would also make me feel like I'm kept only by you and you'll never let me go."  K smiled at me. 

I still remember how bashful I was, blushing as I admitted to her about being super turned on by a woman in fur. Most of the same clothing turned her on as well and made her feel sexy, but she didn't have a lot of experience with fur. We went right to the store and she bought a fur scarf.  It took K about 3 minutes to realize that rubbing it on her breasts, cheeks, and clit was something she really loved, and also teasing me by rubbing my face, nipples, and penis which turned me on quite a bit.  During our next apart time K accumulated an entire wardrobe: a leather coat with a huge fur collar and cuffs, some long leather gloves, a couple of fur scarves, several pairs of fur-trimmed boots, a fur hat, fur headband, and some fur-trimmed beanies (she wore beanies a lot).  She would send me pics modeling it, letting me know how wet it made her to wear it and loved that it got me super aroused as well.  What followed would change things for me forever. 

K was very big on people being comfortable with their fetishes.  She felt no one should feel embarrassed or ashamed and she wanted me to embrace it all.  Our next time together we went out shopping and was absolutely convinced that she would make me comfortable wearing fur.  She picked out a biker vest with fur-trimmed arm holes, a collar, and trim at the hem and a leather and fur Attila the Hun type hat and asked me if I would wear them.  I said probably not and I would rather spend the money on more things for her.  She reminded me she was convinced she would find a way.  I mentioned possibly a fur-lined leather jacket and I'm not sure why she rejected that idea, my only guess is that K felt it had to appear noticeably fluffy to count and wanted me comfortable with that.

She began to up the teasing factor, purposefully choosing more feminine items and saying they would look great on me and asking if I would wear them.  The worse things got the more embarrassed it made me and eventually I couldn't speak, I would just look at the ground.  I got the feeling that K was trying to get me to choose the vest and hat she had picked out earlier.  She could tell this was affecting me a bit too intensely and we left it at that for the time being.

A few things to be known about K's style of dominance:
-She valued symbolism.  Anything to mark me as hers was something she thought was very special and important and she would search for things that fit this bill.  

-She was a fierce micro-manager.  Everything required permission.  Permission to kneel, permission to stand.  Permission to touch her, permission to cum.  Permission to go to the bathroom.

-She had a little book and every time I made a mistake she added a mark. Each mark equaled 2 swats.  She would choose the time for punishment and would work off the marks with a paddle.

-She was a firm believer in "time out."  I didn't have any form of cage at my place so time out was spent with me kneeling in the corner with my hands behind my head.  This would last from anywhere from 15 minutes to 4 hours depending upon how disappointed she was.

-"No" was a trigger word to her.  "A submissive is never permitted to say 'no,'" she would remind me.

When K was in her domspace, if I let a "no" slip, it unleashed her wrath.
"What did you say to me?" Mark in the book.  I remained silent.  "What did you say to me?"
"No," Mark in the book.
"No what?"  Mark in the book.
"No, Mistress"
"Are you allowed to say that?"  Mark in the book.  I remained silent.  Mark in the book.  "What did you say to me?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"I don't think you said that the first time, you're lying to me aren't you?" Ten marks in the book.
"Yes, Mistress, I'm sorry, Mistress."
"Good."  

I learned quickly that if I was going to say no to anything, it had better be something really important.

To be continued.

Reflections part 2: the beginning

I attended several colleges in different states, too depressed to focus on career goals, but I knew That college provided the best opportunity to meet someone.  I did, indirectly.  When you are at a small college with a car, you make lots of friends... and friends of friends.  I met K briefly through a friend of a friend.  We had some overlapping circles but she wasn't a student at the college so things were fleeting at best.  I ran into some financial troubles and had to withdraw from that college and returned to finish up at a state school.

My plan to find love while in college was fading quickly.  I had gotten a bit older.  My plan to save virginity for marriage began to make me look more like a loser than an honorable guy and only added to my insecurities.  Around 8 months after moving, I bumped into K online through some mutual interests.  We began chatting without knowing who we were, but after some references, we put 2+2 together and realized we had briefly met.  We were just friends.  She was having a bit of a rough go of things.  I was having a rough go as usual, with a handful of very short lived relationships and failed dating attempts.

Things with K were complicated.   We spent several months as friends, chatting online for a few hours a day.  Spend enough time with someone and you end up talking about pretty much everything.

I had been set up on a blind date with a classmate's roommate.  The woman and I hit it off really well and things went great for about two weeks.  She hadn't dated much and I could tell she was hesitating and second guessing a lot of the time.  I had given up on holding back so I did my best to make her feel comfortable and cared for.  It turns out this had the opposite effect and she felt I was too serious and my feelings were too strong so she abruptly broke it off with no real explanation or chance to talk it out.  It fucked me up.

K was my shoulder in its aftermath and it was around this time we began to supplement our chats with many extended phone conversations as well.  I explained the whole story and it made her angry at the other woman.  We ended up talking a lot about relationships and I told her about how I went about things and how I wanted to make a woman feel.  K responded with, "you know, you'd be a perfect submissive."  I had spent a few years jerking off to bondage fantasies so this set my mind racing.  She went on to explain to me the principles of BDSM and gave me some resources to read with a plan to talk later.

I read them all as well as some other things that probably pushed the envelope a little far (e.g. Elise Sutton's site) but most of it sounded good to me and turned me on quite a bit.  "What did you think?" she asked the next time we spoke.  "About what?" I replied.  "About being a submissive," she countered.  I can't remember what I said next but it was something along the lines of "sounds good, it's hot, it turned me on."  She was ecstatic and informed me that it was a huge part of her life and she had been holding back from me but now that I had accepted it she could be fully open with me.

K was a very, very, very sexual person.  Her ideal was for people to be aroused 24-7.  She wasn't a slut or an overt bimbo or anything like that, but she was more the type that could spend the whole day with a remote control butterfly or egg in her panties under her jeans for an entire day and you would never know.     

Around this time I got the feeling that K might like me a little bit.  I wasn't sure how well a relationship would work long distance and there was another matter I had to consider.  K had some major health problems... like really major health problems.  It was kind of the elephant in the room.  Over the next couple of years she was going to need some major operations done with a chance she would survive and make a good recovery or a larger chance that it was going to kill her.  K had basically resigned herself to dying and had given up hope for happiness and this had accelerated her decline in health.  K did have her demons.  She had been abused physically and sexually and had very poor self-esteem.  The men in her life had made her only feel worthwhile if she was pretty.  I think we connected pretty deeply because of this as we had experienced similar feelings just for different reasons.

I can say that at the time, my intentions were just to be a good friend and support her as best I could.  K continued to drop hints as we continued to talk about BDSM and the like. To be blunt, my mind was a giant fucking mess through it all.  I know that I made her feel good and we were spending around 8 hours a day chatting via messenger or on the phone.  I made sure she was eating right and taking care of her body.  Her medical conditions started improving and her chances of surviving were increasing. By now, a good chunk of our time was spent talking about BDSM. 

K had spent 7 years in the lifestyle (starting at age 18) in both switch and sub roles.  She had been very active in the local community and was a strong "defender of principles" in that regards.  It was very odd to me.  She had a stubborn will of iron and was extremely fiery.  She would also masturbate at least five times a day.  Some things didn't make sense to me.  I just couldn't picture her as a submissive with the type of personality she had but I understood it with where her self-esteem had been for most of her life.

K's hints grew progressively less subtle.  I was VERY confused and had major reservations on multiple fronts.  She was beautiful, way out of my league, was she okay with that?  How would a BDSM relationship work with two subs?  Could I handle getting into a relationship where there was a good chance she wouldn't last more than two years?  Over the next week or two I began to slowly whittle away at those questions.  To answer the first question, K had seen me, if she was okay with me as I was, that was good enough for me.

The second one took a bit more trolling.  I got the feeling that she may have been hinting that she wanted me to be a switch or a dom.  I could never physically hurt a woman... it's just not possible for me (nor does it do anything for me sexually).  I asked K if she had ever considered being a Domme.  This seemed more likely.  From what I knew of her she got very turned on by kink more than just about anything: bondage, spanking, body worship, behavior control, etc.  She said she would think about it for a day or two (translation: fantasize and masturbate) and see how she felt and we left that part at that. 

This whole time and weeks leading up to it I had been trying to wrap my head around the third question.  I knew I was just being a chicken shit by leaving it lingering.  She cared about me for how I made her feel and that I was willing to see things through (while others would distance myself).  I cared about her too much to let fear of the unknown get in my way and I hardened my resolve.  My rationale was basically:  If she has a year left, she deserves to be as happy as humanly possible for that year.  If she pulls through, great, we can be happy for longer.

The next time we spoke I had already made up my mind.  As it turns out, her fantasies about tying someone else up and spanking them got her off just as hard as her sub fantasies and I asked her how she felt about me.  K admitted she had loved me for a while but held back since she didn't want to put me in the position where I had to face things.  I responded that I would love her through anything and would be by her side no matter what. 

We immediately started making plans to make the most of the time we knew we had.

To be continued.

Reflections part 1b: early experiences

Often those of us in D/s look for a giant landmark events that "flipped the switch" and set us down our chosen path.  I never really had one of those, but I did have experiences that I would credit with planting the seeds.

I had a sister that was two years older than me.  Most of her friends had parents who were also friends and so they had a decent carpool network set up.  As a result, when she would have friends over she would usually have 2-3 at a time.  One of her friends, who I shall call M, was fairly special to me.  Things probably started when I was around age 8 or so, but I can't remember for sure. 

M was very pretty.  She was athletic and a little bit of a tomboy. When she was over I would often end up with them either by me being bored and an annoying little brother or due to them invading my space.  I would often spend time in our basement where it was the coolest.  While M was a part of the crowd, she was a bit more independent.  Often she would bring up something to do and she was less susceptible to just blindly following what was happening if it wasn't of any interest to her.

The first seed happened one winter when I was in our basement and M, my sister, and another friend came down and M told me to play cops and robbers with them.  I was a bit of a brat and told her I didn't want to.  I had outgrown playing that around age 5-6 and thought it was a bit strange that 10 year-olds wanted to play it. She insisted and I finally agreed.  We basically played a glorified game of hide and seek where two people hid, 2 people searched, and if you were "caught," you got taken to the base, which was under a table in our basement.  I didn't put a whole lot of effort into hiding and she found me in about two minutes. 

M grabbed my hands and told me I was caught and had to come to the base.  I struggled against her but being as I was a bit small and she was rather developed for her age, she was able to overpower me and drag me there.  They had brought their coats and things down to the basement.  M retrieved their scarves and proceeded to tie my wrists and ankles together.  I protested and struggled but she pinned me down and said, "this is your jail and you're the prisoner."  Each time I spoke she would shush me and tell me that prisoners weren't allowed to talk and each time I struggled she would tighten her grip on me and hold me down harder.

We just lied there under the table without speaking, her grip never loosening on my arms. It's tough to gauge the passing of time as a child, but it seemed like forever (it was probably for about 45 minutes).  The others never returned (I would assume they thought playing cops and robbers was dumb as well) and eventually she got bored.  M untied me and left to go find the others.

Similar situations happened several times that winter as well as the winters to follow.  When it was nice outside they were mostly outside so it was only during the winter that M would seek me out. The situations would sometimes change a little bit (e.g. the number of friends that were over, if the others pretended to play or not, if the others stayed in the room or left us by ourselves, etc.).

The next time we "played" it was 3 cops with me as the lone robber, although M was the only one who was actually playing and I would reluctantly play her victim.  The main thing that evolved was M's bondage.  After a single failed attempt to tie my wrists to the legs of the table, it didn't take long before she was wanting to tie my hands behind my back instead of in front, and she flipped me onto my stomach and sat on my back.  When I protested, M reminded me that prisoners weren't allowed to talk and then tied a scarf over my face, knotting it behind my head, saying "when this is over your mouth, you can't talk."

M seemed to get more creative the more friends that were over at once since she made full use of their available winter clothes to bind me.  She began to tie my legs together with one scarf around the ankles and another around my knees.  The first time M did this she pulled me up and wanted me to hop around for her before tackling me and holding me down.  I always offered some form of resistance and she usually found some solution to counter it.  When I tried untying the scarf around my wrists, she would put mittens on my hands and then tie them tighter.  A time when M ran out of scarves after tying up my legs and hands I began to speak.  She seemed stumped for a second but then grabbed her stocking cap and pulled it down over my head until it covered my face.  M said "now you can't see and can't speak."  I replied with a smart-ass comment that I could still see through the hat and it wasn't a scarf so I could still speak.  She commanded me to wait there and she returned a couple of minutes later with a scarf that she had found in our closet and wrapped it over my face and mouth before tying it off so that I really couldn't see.


At the time, I had no clue why she did this and while I claimed it bugged me, I came to count on her spending time with me to counter some of my loneliness (my friends all lived 10+ miles away so if it wasn't planned well in advance, I was by myself).  Our play continued over several years.  She hit puberty early and really began to develop.  They were also becoming teens and began dressing differently, wearing perfume and make-up, and the like.  I was still in a "girls are gross" phase but I really liked M as a friend and went along with things and she now stood over a foot taller than me and outweighed me by quite a bit.

The pinnacle happened one winter when my sister had four friends over at once.  They did their usual and dropped off all of their stuff in the basement and M got right to things.  I think she must have planned things out in her head but she didn't even have me hide.  M left me standing up and tied my ankles and knees together with scarves and then started to bind my hands in front of me.  M stopped, retrieved a pair of mittens and pulled them onto my hands, but she put them on the wrong hands so that the thumbs faced outwards and all 5 of my fingers were lumped together.  She gave them a slight tug and then rebound my hands in front of me.  One of my sister's friends had a heavy parka.  M picked it up and put it on me backwards, draping the shoulders over me so that my arms weren't in the sleeves.  She spun me around and zipped it up my back to the top, pulled the hood up over my face, and pulled the drawstrings as tight as she could before tying them off.  My arms were pinned to my sides, I couldn't see anything, and I had to hop to move.  As usual, M stayed silent and she nudged me onto the couch before moving me onto the floor and dragged me under the table.

"I can't breathe," I yelled.  "You'll be fine," she replied.  "I can't breathe," I repeated.  She let out a sigh and undid the hood, pulling me onto my knees.  M then pulled a hat over my face and layered a scarf over the eyes and mouth, indicating I wasn't supposed to speak.  "You'll be fine," she whispered and pulled the hood back up over my face and pulled it even tighter.  I started to struggle by gyrating, trying to get my hands free or slip down into the coat, my breath was heaving.  I felt something wrap around my body several times and then tighten, pinning my arms even closer to my sides and removing any wiggle room.  I then felt more layers being wrapped around my head and face, over and over before being pulled snug.  M guided me to the floor and we lied down.  I couldn't see.  I couldn't move.  I could barely hear.  My face was burning hot and my breath was hot and heavy.

I felt M tug at the back layers of whatever was over the hood.  She pulled it and fidgeted with it for about a minute before retying it.  I felt her lift my head and layers being added around my neck and then she slid me a few inches and she tied the other end to the leg of the table.  When she finished, I felt M lie down next to me and we stayed that way for a few minutes.  Without speaking, she slowly undid everything, told me she was going to see what the others were up to, and left the room (I was later chewed out by my sister for wearing her friend's coat). 

We never again went that far but things still happened as time went on.  Around the time she was 13 and I was 11, M began to stop using scarves to bind me but instead preferred to pin me down and just hold each wrist with her hands.  I was just starting to know how pretty she was and how much I liked her smell.  I grew to realize that the scarf and hat she had been using over my face had been hers.  I recognized the smell. I was still immature and had no idea what to make of any of this, but she had become a lot more overt with verbal teasing and playful flirting.

My first contact-induced erection happened somewhere in the realm of 11 or 12 when she had pinned me down and mounted me cowgirl style.  I'm guessing she must have felt it because she never did it again after that (I was too dense to realize that I had gotten turned on by it).  When I first saw this picture it reminded me heavily of her:

Within a year, my parents got divorced, my life fell apart, and I morphed into an angry ball of rage, self-hatred, and confusion which lasted for several years.  We never again spent time together in a private setting, but looking back, M was quite a little Domme in the making.

A few years later I began spending a lot of time at clubs downtown in the warehouse district (starting at age 16) and/or hanging out at late night coffee houses in the artsy areas of the city.  I ran into M and her older sister (who was 5 years older than me) a few times out there and saw her sister out at clubs fairly regularly for the next couple of years.  I didn't know it at the time, but I'd bet my left nut that M's older sister was a Domme based upon how she dressed.  If that's true, it must have run in the family.

I will note, that I didn't even remember my experiences with M until a few years ago.  I have a pretty big mental block over my youth and I didn't recover those memories for a very long time, nor was I aware of them when I got into the lifestyle.  I do believe this was the start of my bondage fetish and interest in femdom.  


On a side note, my love for the touch of fur is explained pretty easily.  When I was an infant I would rub my face against bottom of the crib, playpen, carpet, etc. until the skin was raw.  In order to combat this my mother would put certain things at the bottom that were soft and would reduce this.  Included in these were a silk blanket, some rabbit fur pelts and the like.  I have continued to enjoy the touch of these for the rest of my life but this is a lot less interesting a story than M.

To be continued.

Reflecting upon the past part 1: background

Lady Grey's suggestion to write from a more personal standpoint has gotten me thinking about the past.  The natural place to start would be at the beginning.  In most of my previous writings I have often just covered an abbreviated versions of events, some that happened gradually over the course of an extended period of time.  I will try to flush them out in some greater deal.

The benefit of hindsight has given a greater sense of clarity on a lot of things, especially now that I am able to better understand what went on internally during those times.

Think of this first as sort of a prologue.  Nothing really interesting unless you want to know what makes me tick.  

First off, I think I have to note that my greatest dream was to be loved.  While my peers were focused upon being lawyers, architects, etc., I simply wanted to be with someone that I loved who loved me too.  I knew many who took things for granted, that life, love, and family would just happen and hey never pictured a future without it.  I was broken at a very young age through abuses and betrayals that shattered my sense of self worth.  I felt useless unless I was meeting other's expectations but I was capable enough to meet or exceed them.

My mother was very focused upon appearances.  I was allowed a bit of freedom but for the most part, there was a script to be followed and I was constantly self-conscious when I didn't fit the mold that was set out for me.  My father was extremely passive-aggressive and would keep things bottled up until it would violently explode with me on the receiving end.  I learned that I had to choose between his expectations or a beating. 

I never felt safe in my own skin.  I never had the security of someone just accepting my love and giving love in return.  Love from family was something that had to be earned.

Due to some After School Special caliber events that happened in my school district while I was in Jr High and the multi-million dollar lawsuit that followed, our schools cracked down on the majority of juvenile forms of flirting and the like.  There ended up being a 3 year group of people who experienced that and pretty much never learned to date by traditional means.  You basically got to know someone, then decided if dating was possible vs. the dating to get to know someone with romantic intentions already known. It was a bit ass-backwards and ended up affecting me for a very long time.

With girls, I was rejected and heart broken many times over, almost always due to my physical appearance.  I am short, stocky, and not handsome, and to top it off, a minority that was living in a 99% white area.  I was often used as a means of self-esteem rebuilding, forever trapped in the friend zone, I was the one called upon by girls to make them feel good about themselves.  I was a very supportive good friend who could give sound advice and knew how to lift their spirits. Once their self-esteem was replenished, I became unnecessary and was cast aside.

Rather than giving up, I used these failings as a motivation to change myself.  I wished to become someone that was so perfect and proficient as a lover/partner that someone could see what I had to offer and cherish that.  By my early 20's I was able to actualize that state of being:  sensitive, caring, unselfish, attentive, empathic, sympathetic, complimentary, and devoted.  No one seemed to care.

I was always a bit artsy and by this time I was a musician, poet, appreciative of art and cinema, fairly well-read/literary, had a good sense of humor, and had a firm grasp of politics and current events.  Basically, I was very good company but it always ended the same:  they weren't physically attracted to me. Later on I found that I would have had many more chances but my "getting to know them first" route ended up turning me into a non-romantic entity.

Basically, there isn't a lot here to have drawn me to the D/s lifestyle, but the groundwork was set for me to embrace it.  I had naturally molded myself into a functional submissive.

To Be Continued in part 1b.

Why I'm struggling to draw

I know there are people out there that could care less what I write but would like to see more drawings...

A good part of this stems from the same reasons I struggle to write.  I just don't have a lot of inspiration to draw from.  I have at least a dozen unfinished drawings that never got completed and I'm not really motivated enough to finish them.

Another large part is that I'm just not competent enough to really draw what I would like to... the fantasies that I could bring to life. 

I am not an artist.  I was raised in an environment where protecting my GPA meant more than being able to explore any field that I didn't already display a natural talent/ability for.  I've always wanted to be able to draw, I'm just terrible at it. 

What I am able to accomplish is by taking advantage of digital tools and existing pictures to create something that can work as something new.  It's usually pretty obvious which part of my drawings were done through free hand interpretation instead of from a model... they generally look significantly worse in their quality, detail, shading, etc.

Another block on drawing for me is that I have experimented with more traditional methods over the past couple of years and... I'm terrible at them.  There's a lot of tricks and understanding that people develop over years of experience that I just don't have and I get frustrated when it doesn't come together how I want it to.

One of the biggest hurdles is time.  Based upon tutorials I've seen from people who produce very high quality drawings, it involves multiple stages of building skeletons, rough sketches, a clean up phase, finishing the defined line art, shading/coloring, etc. that I'm guessing take many hours.  99% of my drawings I finish in one sitting (1-5 hours).  This is heavily due to the fact that, well, I get aroused drawing a fantasy.  If something happens that causes me to lose my arousal (run out of time, have to leave, etc.) it becomes nearly impossible for me to finish it with the same type of drive/motivation that I had when I started it. It's sort of pathetic, but it's true.

As for the process I use, when I explain it to people it's the equivalent of tracing parts of a picture, cutting out shapes of colored construction paper, and placing the cut paper in layers to form a completed picture.  At the end I will spend some time (or sometimes I won't...) adding in shading and lighting details.  On the upside, I am able to Frankenstein together pieces of different pictures if I want a certain facial expression, posture, etc.  On the downside, it does nothing to improve my abilities and sometimes I even hesitate to call them drawings since they are probably closer to traced collage work.

Here is an example of the process:

Why I'm struggling to write

Over the past year I haven't written much.  I have tried on several occasions to write just to keep things going but I've usually deleted the drafts before posting them live. 

I've really started to hate what I write lately.  I seem to be rehashing the same things over and over (albeit the posts may be years apart) and when I do write something, I feel like I'm coming off as some sort of obnoxious know it all. 

A few years ago I found it easy to write.  D/s was a more regular part of my life and I was in contact with a good number of people both through the internet (email, blogs, messenger) as well as in real life that shared similar interests.  There was plenty of inspiration to go around and numerous conversations to give me ideas.  Without that contact I find it incredibly difficult to come up with anything new.

If anyone has any questions, ideas, or thoughts they would like me to explore, please let me know.  

Femininity and Feminization

*NOTE: I wrote this a while ago and wasn't going to post it but I decided to post it anyways.*

Over the years it has become apparent to me just how different the fetishes are among those that would classify themselves as "sissies."  The roots that drive this lifestyle are so diverse that it can easily lead to a sense of isolation, e.g. I am the only one out there that is wired this way.

While writing this I do not mean to reject differing views on this subject, these are simply my own personal views, and where my type of "sissy" comes from.

I applaud femininity and I adore womanhood.  I believe that women are the greatest treasure in this world.  I love that women are beatiful. I love that women are sensual.  I love their emotional connection to their sexuality.  I love their strength and the depth of their instincts.

I am not a woman.  I do not deserve to be cherished as one, nor will altering my appearance make me so.  I exist to be the one that serves her.  I am here to elevate her to the pedestal she deserves and make her dreams and fantasies a reality.  If I aspired to be a woman I would have forgotten my place in the natural order of my world.  To be blunt, if I attempted to become passable as a woman, it would feel like an insult to women.

If this is how I see things, why do I find feminization humiliating?

Femininity is a rather vague concept in itself.  There are characteristics that are naturally feminine, that is, they exist in all women, and there are chatacteristics that are culturally feminine, which are society's projections for their idealized woman.  While women currently weild more power and independence now than at most times in recorded history, there are still notions of cultural feminity that extend back over the past thousand years that didn't really begin to recede until a handful of landmark events occurred in the 20th century that have slowly eroded archaeic stereotypes.

The modern woman chooses to lead or follow.  The culturally feminine woman would only follow and submit.  I believe this is the great dividing line.  Thus, humiling feminization is the process of imparting cultural femininity onto a male.  Fetish fantasies of feminization usually highlight this cultural femininity:
Pink is just a color.  Pink being feminine is a cultural projection.
Panties are just an undergarment and not that different from briefs.
Dresses became a standard to promote clothing for easy access procreation and became considered feminine.

With this in mind, the humiliation of forced feminization hits on several levels:
-It strips away cultural masculinity causing a loss of self-identity.
-It reinforces the culturally feminine characteristics of docile, gentile, and submissive behavior.
-It creates a sense of shame by pushing you outside the norm of "socially accepted behavior."
-It opens up ridicule by making you "obviously different" on a superficial physical level.
-It inspires awkwardness through being "like a woman" while remaining undeserving of being a woman.
-It reinforces the power structure of the relationship: I would not have chosen to be this way.
-I have been sexually conditioned to respond to this.

I guess an easy way to summarize things is that my forced feminization fetish thrives on contrast:  the mixing of what I am and what I'm not.  Injecting doses of cultural femininity and withholding natural femininity, all while maintaining some natural masculinity (flat chest, penis, etc.).

Reaching the Deep End

The ebb and flow of D/s growth is really quite fascinating.

male subs tend to foray into this lifestyle with years of developed fantasy and fetishes under their belt while Dommes often progress more slowly, dabbling in roleplay and gradually dialing up the intensity as her confidence grows.

The Dommes I have known over the years have often had a lot of fear inhibiting them during their developmental stages.  This was often due to experiences with selfish subs that attempt to top from the bottom and/or refuse to participate in activities that aren't part of their fantasies.  I think from a psychological standpoint it's easier for novice subs to embrace their role since many submissive characteristics are often positive for fostering relationships: being attentive to your partner's needs, making personal sacrifices for her happiness, giving up control to a stronger will, etc.  On the other hand, novice Dommes are often haunted by dominant characteristics that appear negative out of context: being demanding, self-centered desires, cruel, etc.

Basically, it's harder for a Domme to be comfortable with her place in a D/s relationship than a sub.  Early in, a sub is more likely to think, "this gets me off so I'm okay with it," while the Domme may be trapped by thoughts closer to "It gets me off to be horrible to another person, I must be fucked up."    This is why it is crucial for fledgling Dommes to have early positive experiences in D/s or her confidence may be badly hurt and her desires buried.  It's tough for her to feel dominant when she's afraid of making mistakes and unsure of how to go about things.

A sub will hit their confidence plateau early.  If they can meet their Domme's sexual and D/s needs, the sub will feel comfortable and confident and there's a good chance that their interactions will at least somewhat resemble the sub's fantasies.  A Domme will hit their confidence plateau much later on.  It will probably take years of successful interaction with consistent sub(s) while developing new physical and psychological skill sets that allow her to feel natural in her role.

This is where the paths diverge most significantly.  For Dommes, this plateau is very temporary and serves as a launching pad for her growth.  She knows she deserves to get what she wants, she is confident in how to go about it, she may stumble here and there but understands this is part of the process.  It is now where she can recognize her dominant hunger and is comfortable feeding it, confident in her sub's devotion and her ability to make things happen.  From here she starts to press onward, following ideas and inspiration that may have piqued her curiosity or turned her on thinking about it.

A sub will usually roll with many of the new ideas she wishes to introduce as new and unexplored territory can be exciting for both parties.  However, it is almost inevitable that eventually something will be introduced that will cause a drastic change and tear the sub from their comfort zone.  They change the rules of the game.  If it is part of the sub's fantasy, the sub will jump right in.  If it is something the sub deems unpleasant, the sub will channel their inner used car salesman and spew a mountain of bullshit, explaining how it's better for the relationship to avoid doing it.  Even introducing the idea will rattle his confidence and fear and doubt will cloud his psyche.

If the basics of BDSM are bondage and spankings, these new events are usually more psychologically intense requiring greater levels of submission and dominance to sustain them.  Some examples might include chastity, cuckolding, branding, piercing, TPE, forced feminization, etc.

At this point, if the Domme caves to the sub's wishes without even giving it a try, that likely signifies the end of her dominant growth and the dynamic will remain stagnant for the duration of the relationship.

If she forces her will upon him or is able to convince him to give it a try, her growth will likely never stop. An event of this nature signifies the first time that the sub's will is truly broken.  This firmly establishes a Domme's confidence and makes it more likely she will escalate the intensity over time. Also, once his will has been broken, it will be more easily broken again and again until he no longer offers any resistance to "game changing" activities or dynamics.

Once the sub's will has been completely broken, his confidence returns since his confidence will be solely based around his ability to please her and he will find him adaptable enough to please her in nearly any situation. At this point, the sub has basically given the green light for whatever she might wish for.

As a Domme realizes this, it may rattle her a little bit.  I believe (although I could be mistaken) that many Dommes place a bit of a limiter on themselves when it comes to D/s, that is, there's a separation in what they WOULD do vs. what they SHOULD do based upon the sub's feelings.  When that limiter is removed, she is the only one who can police her own actions and for the first time in a while she may doubt herself again, e.g. if something happens that can seriously damage the relationship, it's all her fault.

I believe this fear should exist, albeit being a little bit unfair as it's a rather heavy burden to carry, but it is something that should be respected in any case.  I fully believe that for a relationship that has reached this point, the Domme will be very aware of the handful of actions that would probably damage the sub beyond repair and be able to steer clear of those actions.

On the flip side, I think the depth of a sub's love towards the Domme that has broken him is very great.  99% of the time, he will easily forgive her if something goes well beyond his limits.  The remaining 1% are probably limited to those handful of actions the Domme is aware of and have likely been talked about since early on in the relationship.

Depression comes early this year

I've really tried to write and draw lately.  I just can't seem to finish anything.

Things feel lonely right now.  It feels like google's attempt to limit/delete/block "adult" blogs scared many off.  It also seems like people are flocking to select online communities and a lot of the alternative methods of interacting with others have gone obsolete.  It feels like the whole internet is a bit off right now.  I don't know if it's just me but this seems to be the current trend.

I am still in a relationship but D/s has been absent for years now.  She has been busy for the past year or so with things going on in life.  When I can feel my mood turning in this way it makes me miss a lot of things.

There are certain aspects of D/s that are so soothing to someone wired as insecurely as I am.  I'm not sure if this should seem pathetic or not, but I tend to just accept it.  Bondage, symbolism, displays of devotion, chastity, etc. all provide a sense of security as it means that someone cares enough about you to collar you, chain you, lock you, deny you, and so on.  It makes you feel important enough to be constantly monitored in some way.  To be owned.  To be guarded.  All I really know is that there are parts of me that need this in order to feel okay and this is the best I can make sense of things.

There are times that I masturbate while attempting to fantasize about those needs being met.  In the end it feels empty since it doesn't matter if I do that.  There have been certain times in certain relationships where that was something I wouldn't dare do.  But during those times someone cared enough to keep me from wasting my energy on such things.

I think what we need from D/s says a lot about who we are.  I think submissive devotion plays a large part in taming the insecurities of both Dommes and subs.  A sub needs to feel wanted, chosen, and kept.  A Domme (probably) needs to feel loved, trusted, cherished, and empowered.  It's a beautiful symbiosis.

All of this is very meaningful to me and I miss it.  My head has gotten really hazy, cloudy, and unfocused lately.  I can feel myself slipping and the negativity feels inevitable. 

If anyone has any ideas for discussion topics or custom drawings please let me know.  If I can't come up with something to focus on, maybe someone else can.

The Dividing Line: Sadist vs. Sadistic Characteristics

QUICK UPDATE NOTE: I wrote this in an environment where I felt comfortable researching various definitions of Sadism/sadism and working off of memory of something I scanned a few days ago.  I realize now most of the thorough definitions of Sadism/sadism are a little bit broader than I had based one section of this off of.  Please bear with me on it as it doesn't really affect the overall result even if it does make me look like a bit of a jackass :)

I have served several Dommes over the years, a couple of which I would describe as "to their core" Sadists.  The others exhibited sadistic tendencies or characteristics but the drive of their cruelty was not quite the same and during discussions about the topic, things didn't seem to resonate with them in the same way.  After a lot of analyzing I have tried to find that dividing line between the two.

A common dictionary-like definition of a Sadist is someone that derives sexual pleasure from inflicting suffering on others.  I'm not quite sure I like this definition as I tend to think of it a bit differently.   I view sexual pleasure as: a physical act that contributes towards an orgasm and/or achieving said orgasm.  Non-sexual sadistic acts do not supply this, but they still may give a sexual reaction in a Sadist.  A person needs some basic factors to experience sexual pleasure:
-Being sexually aroused/horny (keeping in mind this happens at different rates for men and women).
-A mental and physical environment capable of sustaining the aroused state, ideally until orgasm.

So, re-written, a Sadist is someone that derives sustained sexual arousal from inflicting suffering on others.  This definition makes a bit more sense to me based upon my experiences.

I have come to believe that one factor separating full Sadists from part Sadists is the need for active participation.  Dommes that exhibit sadistic characteristics tend to require active participation to sustain sexual arousal.  That is, they are turned on during play and will continue to be aroused on for the duration of the activities/environment.  A full Sadist can achieve sustained arousal without being directly involved or present.  The idea of the situation provides enough of a mental environment to continue the aroused Dom-space state.

This can be especially difficult to differentiate when dealing with a Domme's fetishes.  e.g. if she is a bondage enthusiast, chastity enthusiast, etc. she may be able to fantasize about a situation without it being present and achieve arousal.  How this differs from a Sadist is what factors drive her.  The bondage enthusiast may enjoy the control, a sub's helplessness, etc.  The Sadist may enjoy control, helplessness, but is driven by how the sub suffers because of it.

That focus on suffering tends to increase the natural creativity level of a Sadist.  She doesn't just want to tie him up and immobilize him, she wants to bind him in discomfort.  e.g. binding a sub in a sustainable/comfortable long-term position vs. an unsustainable/uncomfortable long-term position.

Another example would be locking a sub in a cage vs. locking him in a cage while gagged and blindfolded, wrists chained behind his back with the chain on the outside of the bars so his arms are pulled in an uncomfortable manner, spreader bar between his ankles and an anal plug while kneeling on dry rice.  The latter situation requires a significant amount of extra work (probably at least 20 minutes as well as some awkward positions securing everything).   A part Sadist may be fine with the just the cage but when she leaves the room, the arousing environment fades (or at least decreases).  A full Sadist is more likely to go the extra mile but when she leaves the room, the juices will continue to flow.

Is that all necessary?  No.  It's a locked cage, he's not going anywhere.  His freedom is gone and she holds the key.  She does it because she wants to do it and enjoys doing it.  The sub's suffering continues her aroused mental environment while she is now a passive participant.  It is knowledge that keeps her going and not just fantasy.  This fuels her creation of factors that will sustain arousal even after direct interaction ceases.

Another major factor that defines a full Sadist is the constantly evolving "one step worse than last time" tendency.  Dusting the shelves?  Let's add wrist cuffs and a chain.  Next time it's a shorter chain.  Next time it's no chain and just a lock binding them together.  Next time it's locked behind the back.  Next time it's locked behind the back with nipple clamps.  Next time it's behind the back, nipple clamps, and a spreader bar, ball parachute, butt plug, bells (while being told to remain quiet) and so on.  Eventually, dusting is impossible... so add a creatively harsh punishment for doing a poor job in order to maintain a sub's desperation level.

A part Sadist seems to find a point where it's "cruel enough," and reaches a plateau.  A full Sadist seems to keep going and going and going with evolutionary time and creativity being the only limits (a sub's physical/mental limits seem to be forced to expand at the same rate).

I hope these differences between a full Sadist and part Sadist make sense.

These factors seem to be one of the hardest things to explain to a part Sadist since they don't naturally relate to them.   It seems Dommes are either wired this way or they aren't.

It's sort of funny that I have met vanilla women that seem to exude many characteristics of fledgling Sadists.  From what I can tell they get some form of endorphin "rush," but I don't think they have reached the point of a sexual connection.  If you know the types they tend to seem somewhat playful and enjoy pointing out observations that draw attention to and embarrass men with teasing or jokes that border on being cruel.  It makes me think they may have the wiring for this, but the likelihood of them entering the D/s lifestyle is still very slim.

One of my ex's was a Sadist whose evolution had been severely limited by the willingness of subs to suffer for her.  I was the first that was willing to endure and I encouraged her to grow in whatever ways "did it" for her.  A while ago I spoke with her for the first time in a few years and was a bit startled by how far she had grown (although it did not surprise me).  When we were together we dabbled in chastity.  Now she believed a sub should be in chastity 24-7 and released up to twice a year for an orgasm if their behavior earned it.  She believed subs should be kept in wrist and ankle chains all the time, the heavier the better, and that they should move without letting them drag or make noise.  She required subs to be on their knees whenever they were in the same room that she was in.  She did not permit subs to look at her above the ankles or make eye contact.  In the past she had loved to wear fur and went to great lengths pushing my sissification.  She still loved to wear fur but now believed all subs should be kept naked and shivering (e.g. keeping AC cranked in summer and windows cracked in winter while she stayed bundled up).  As of speaking to her she was beginning to explore pegging.  It was not something she had done yet and the idea of it didn't really do it for her (as it does for most women who are enthusiasts), but she was searching for something to further degrade a sub and give them a twisted version of sexual intercourse now that she no longer permitted it by traditional means.  I'm curious as to where she is now on this.  Our relationship ended due to her having to relocate due to family issues and the offer for me to relocate with her was never extended.  I'm also curious as to where I would be now if things had continued.