Sunday, July 30, 2017

My Submission

It's high time I embrace that side of me and let it flourish in all its glory.

You see, this man came crashing into my world one evening... I was at Teqi's and I was horny and I wanted to get fucked before I needed to go to bed.

An IM arrived, then an invitation to dance... No, he didn't fuck me that night.

Oh, he gave me an orgasm... and a few very dark promises that left me intrigued. Not many men intrigue me.
I didn't see him again for a while... my father died and I wasn't in world much for the next couple of weeks.

And he noticed. Not just my absence... I received an offline from him asking if everything was okay. Sure, he might have read this blog. I really don't know. All I do know is that he cared enough to ask.

And that's when I knew he was going to be someone special to me.
When I came back to SL after that brief hiatus, he was there. And we talked, and we had sex, and we talked even more. He didn't demand my submission... I gave it willingly. He gives me freedom... freedom to be myself, freedom to soar... and I know he'll be right there to catch me.

Is he a dominant? Yes, he is. A rough one. Demanding? Not even a little bit. He has his rules, certainly... standards more than rules, really. He has high expectations, and why shouldn't he? I do, too. Will he punish me if I get out of line? Most certainly, but why would I get out of line?

These photos... the bruises and marks I wear... those aren't punishments. They're rewards... they're what I crave. I love to be taken the way he takes me, and he knows it. Punishment, for me, would be to have that taken from me.
There is no collar.

Well, there is, but not a locked one... one I already had that we use during moments like in these photos.

He doesn't need to place a collar around my neck, or a set of rules I must follow. I've given myself to him. Freely, without limitations, without any constraints or rules.

And I've never felt stronger. Never felt more like a woman. I speak to whomever I choose, I go wherever I choose... I fuck whomever I choose.

He lets me be the woman I want to be. He asks for no changes... there are no nods or hints, or pushes or shoves for that matter. He adores me and I feel that so deep in my bones.
Dominant man, yes. He's also a rather outspoken feminist. He dominates me because I crave the domination. It is his gift to me. We feed each other... the darkness, and yes, the light. He is unfailingly kind. Even when I'm bound, on my knees for him... he respects me, unflinchingly. I don't walk behind him... I walk beside him.

I haven't changed... not one iota. I am 100% me. That's the woman he wants. Opinionated, foul-mouthed, exasperating, hilarious, intelligent me. Submissive me, strong me.

He has a gentle, beautiful soul... and no, that isn't at odds with his dominance. He's a kaleidoscope of brilliant colors and he shares them all with me. As vulnerable as I am when I'm in chains, he is just as vulnerable with me. He trusts me, I trust him... and that grows every day as it only can with time.

We've clasped hands and taken a leap of faith together when it was something neither of us thought we were prepared for, but it's just felt so natural... so unforced.
We will have other lovers, together and separately. We won't hide our needs, our desires... we will share them. We are both of the strong belief that our real lives take precedence above all else. I am not chained to his side. Our time spend together isn't out of obligation... it's out of want. Desire.

And that desire is so much more than sexual. We talk about everything... from politics to religion to family to work to every unimportant, silly, serious topic in between. We laugh... a lot. I can be my goofy self with him and he's right there with me.

As a dear friend of his... ours... told me tonight, Michael Stewart is one of the 1% of men in Second Life. He's the full package. Flawed, certainly... and isn't that part of the package? He's a billion adjectives and a few more that haven't even been named yet.

Is this fast? It feels like it is, but it's been nearly two months now since our first dance. In Second Life time, we're practically crawling along. But every day, every single day, every single moment, I feel something new and spectacular for him.
For a long time after Hugh left, I thought that was it... that was my one and I had used up all my good juju and there was nothing left. Oh, I tried... god knows I tried... but in the end, none of those other men fit. Bits and pieces of them, sure... but the entirety of the man? No.

Not until now. It just feels... solid. Strong. Heavy... and oh-so light.

I fumbled the ball once when we were first getting to know each other. I learned a valuable lesson about the man he is... he's not one to play games, nor does he tolerate fools. He's a man of his word, and that's in short supply not just in SL, but the entire world.

He confided his only real rule to me... and no, I won't share what that is. It's not my rule to share. But I tested that rule... I pushed it... not quite to the limit because if I had, none of this would exist.

But he listened to me... he stuck it out with me. He thought I was worth it, that we were worth it, and he was right. We are worth it.
And so there you have it. My submission... my gift to him. His dominance... his gift to me.

I'm having the time of my life with this man. My boundaries... my self-imposed restraints have been freed. By me, with him.

The hand prints on my ass, my bruised breasts... the marks around my neck, and yes, the reddened cheeks on my face... I wear them with pride. They are a sign of my strength. They are badges of honor. Abusive? Hardly. Not when I'm the one begging for them. I get off on pain and I won't be ashamed of that.

The orgasms he gives me are so deep, so all-consuming. They come with the twist of a nipple, or a hand on my throat, squeezing. They come with a hard slap on my clit... and mostly with his cock buried so deep inside me that it hurts and I see stars... and fireworks... explosions and bright white lights. A fire so intense it burns through my entire body until I erupt, over and over, an earthquake, tsunami... an F5 tornado ripping me apart in a torrent of bliss... and just when I think it's subsided, he touches me and it all begins again. The lash of his hands across my breasts or the soft brush of his lips on mine... I feel nothing but bliss. I feel nothing but cherished. I feel so safe with him... I can be myself, fully, holding nothing back from him.

I am his. I am owned. I've given myself to this man... this incredible man. My master, my lover, my best friend. Mine... as I am his.

I am finally complete.

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