My Submission

I would love to write something sexy and steamy tonight. I need to turn myself on, turn my Sir on, turn all of you on. It makes me happy – and it turns me on (see how that works?). If my head would cooperate, I’d describe exquisite pain, flowing cum, and growling Sir for you, I really would. Tonight, not so much…

It’s not often He admits His fears to me. Often? Try never. On the one hand, that trust makes me adore Him more. On the other, I ache to alleviate any fear He has because I cannot bear the thought of Him in turmoil (no matter how slight) for even a second. Something inside of me twists in agony and I am compelled to quell whatever negative feeling He experiences.

I realize that I am a bright, shiny, new submissive. No, I didn’t spring from the ground fully formed, but it’s only been two months since I admitted to myself I am a sexually submissive woman. And He is my Sir, my first Sir – if I have my way, my last Sir. I know I have a lot to learn, a long way to go, and a lifetime of experience to gain.

Tonight, though, I admitted that if the D/s went away (through some sort of brain trauma and amnesia, of course), I would still adore Him. He fits me in ways that have nothing to do with Sir and pet, that have nothing to do with BDSM. Any man who can quote song lyrics to you in response to your own quoted song lyric is a freaking keeper. Any man who responds to your “I’m such a dork” text with “Yeah, me too!” And then thinks “Dorks unite!” is hilarious is a freaking keeper. We get one another on levels I never even considered important. If vanilla was all I could have of Him, I’d take it and be thrilled.

His concern? That He won’t be enough of what I need. Not that He wouldn’t be “man” enough, but that I might want to submit more than He wants to dominate. I would never laugh at Him in a moment like that, but mentally, I chuckled. That’s what I get for not opening up enough sometimes – misconceptions.

Yes, I want to be pushed and stretched to my limits, physically, mentally, and emotionally. Yes, I want to have moments where I am reminded how submissive I am in the middle of a vanilla world. Yes, I want to do kinky shit when it’s least expected. Yes, yes, YES! Please, Sir?

That being said, I have children to raise – and when the day comes that He meets them, I can’t allow a 24/7 D/s relation to interfere with my ability to parent and whoop some little boy tail. When I’m with my family and friends who only know me as an extremely strong, sarcastic, leave-me-the-fuck-alone woman, I don’t want them to watch as I openly and gratefully bend to His will – they would view it as suspect. I won’t let Him be perceived in the wrong light by people who care about me simply because they don’t understand.

I also realized very early on that I am not one of those women who can go searching for a Sir. I’m way too submissive for that – if that makes sense. I trust no one. I need to be led, I need to coaxed and convinced, I need to be wanted before I can admit by own want and desire. I now have enough knowledge of D/s to be terrified of the wannabes.

And it’s not just about making me do what a Dom wants done, it’s not just about commanding and demanding. I have to want to please and submit to Him; it has to be a burning desire. I have to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that outside of D/s, I’m precious to Him and, within reason, will be pampered and spoiled. And I am – not with material things (although I think He would if He could), but with the things I need to be happy, the things I crave – communication, laughter, care, thought, sweet sentiments, genuine emotions.

When I first saw Him after a month apart, there was no Sir and pet (although that’s a major part of who we are). We rushed into each other’s arms and held and kissed each other as if we had been starving and finally found sustenance. When it was time for me to leave, He held my face in His hands and kissed me as if He were trying to imprint the taste and feel of my lips and tongue on His. Passion, warmth, love – it was all there, and I was free to wrap myself around Him. If we’re capable of it, it was almost vanilla. In reality, it was love.

My need to submit goes hand in hand with my feelings for Him. They can’t be separated. There is no submission without the emotions. My feelings make me want to submit more and more. What I gain in my submission leaves me weak, breathless, and ultimately, stronger than ever before.

For those who would caution that this has happened quickly, I would agree completely. For those who would say that I am new as a submissive and may change, I still agree. For those who would worry that things are moving too quickly, my head would be in complete agreement but my heart would say it’s moving too slow.

The difference in other people’s fears and the reality lies in the fact that we have an amazing ability to communicate. We can talk about anything. When one of us has something on our mind, we can discuss it. I may only be pet, but at just about any point, I can bring a concern in our relationship to Him. We discuss, we figure it out, and then we resolve it. Everyone should be so lucky to have that.

I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t know if there’s some thing lying in wait out there to surprise the hell out of us and make us rethink who we are together. In the meantime, I am the happiest I’ve ever been – ever. Thirty plus years on this planet, and I feel complete and whole for the first time.

My submission is a gift. He is more than worthy of it.

About the author

Kayla Lords

I am a sex blogger, podcaster, freelance writer, international speaker, kink educator, and all-around kinky woman. You can find me online sharing my innermost sexual thoughts and experiences, teaching other bloggers how to make money writing about sex, and helping kinksters have happy healthy BDSM relationships. I'm also a masochistic babygirl submissive with an amazing and sadistic Daddy Dom and business partner, John Brownstone. Welcome to my kinky corner of the internet!


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