I Am Submissive

I’ve had dreams.  I’ve had fantasies. Now I have reality.  I need to set the real me free; I need to be who I am.  I am submissive, and by sheer luck, I have found my Sir.  Seven days from this moment in time, I will be naked, screaming, cumming, crying, and thoroughly fucked.  I will whimper; I will beg; I will thank my Sir for everything he gives and takes from me.

How did I get to this point when days ago, I was only dreaming and fantasizing?  I’m not sure.

Sir started out as my friend who happened to be a Dom.  He had His submissive; I had my wannabe lover who had removed himself so far from my life, he could only live in my sexual fantasies.  We talked about everything.  We made each other laugh.  It was easy.  I anticipated that within a few months, He would find His next submissive and no longer have time for our friendly chats.

He answered every question I had about D/s – watching me slowly discover who I might be.  He urged me to talk to “my guy” about what I was feeling.  I admitted he had D tendencies, similar to my sub tendencies.  But I continually shied away from considering the conversation.  My instincts knew what my brain and heart refused to fathom – that man could not be my Sir.

One night I mentioned I would be travelling on business soon – I wanted Him to know that I would be out of pocket during that time.  I had a need to make sure He never thought I vanished.  Only an hour from His home, He offered to come see me.  Dinner, a movie, nothing more.  Friends laying eyes on one another for the first time.  Within a heartbeat, we progressed.  Flirting at its finest.  My heart raced, my mind worried, my pussy quivered.

Within days, I walked into the most natural part of myself.  Seeing where we were possibly headed, He offered the sweetest gift of all – to introduce me to D/s and help me as a new submissive.  What we did not foresee were the depths of our own emotions.  What I could never foresee was how natural every moment spent in his presence (virtual or otherwise) would feel.  What He could never foresee was that I am unlike most women – even in my submissiveness.

During the day, our conversations live in the D/s space – until it gets serious.  In those moments, I am His baby instead of His pet.  When I must convey something to Him that leaves no room for doubt, I use His given name.  There is power in names.  We move in and out of our roles effortlessly.  All of it is natural for both of us – we were born to this.

In seven days, I will be spanked, paddled, flogged, restrained, fucked, used, made to beg, made to cum, and I anticipate every moment of the night together.  This is not about some fantasy role-playing game.  This is not about getting off, getting laid, or having a good time.  This is about embracing who I am as a woman and submissive with a man who can move from my growly Sir to my dear friend to my heart with ease.

I will deny it no longer.  I am a submissive, and He is my Sir.