A true submissive – part 7

9 08 2009

Sometimes you just strike a wave. This was the case that very day. We were riding the wave in a mutual experience of mixed passion and lust. I worked my way further into unknown territory. I hit her with the cane, she absorbed every stroke, her buttocks shivered, her skin swelled, her mouth made silent moaning sounds.

I paused, poked my fingers into her, I found her moist and warm.

I worked in a rhythm reminiscent of the rhythm set in Louisiana cotton workers song while struggling in the hot fields.

Slow, intense and repeating itself over and over again.

Strikes, fingering, penetration.

Finally there wasn’t room for additional stripes on her skin and I stopped.

Very carefully I let my fingers slide over her swollen skin. Examining every detail, every small deviation in her tissue created by my activity. It was a fantastic feeling. Firm, elevated and crisp. So fragile and yet so tensile. The human skin. Her skin.

Yes she was different. Her reaction to my strokes was different from anything I had ever experienced with my wife. The way she absorbed every strike, the way her whole body spoke out in desire. Her wish to fulfil my requests. Her wish to make me happy. I felt it so clearly. Then there was the pain. The pain also made here desire me, the pain also made her long for more, the pain also had her craving for me to take her.

Many more things were tried out that afternoon but the caning stands out as a single moment of perfection. Her desire to please and my lust fused into something very beautiful . This was the moment where we found each other, the moment where I crossed a line and came very close to her. This was the moment when I finally realized:

“Yes it does matter that she is a true submissive”

This was for me the whole point of our expedition. A mission to clarify a long standing issue that had haunted me. Is the feeling during an intense sadomasochistic experience different if my partner is a true submissive?

The confirmatory answer stood out clearly after the caning session. She made every effort to please me, even when the pain was impossible to escape. I felt her happiness every time she took a stroke for me. Yes she did it first of all for me and that I found incredible beautiful. The realization send a marvellous sensation right into my heart.

When I returned home that evening I was both incredible happy and incredibly sad. Happy because I had found the answer to a question of great importance to me and sad because I suddenly knew that I would never experience something similar with my wife.

THE END


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A true submissive – part 6

2 08 2009

I untied her and asked her to take off her dress. She was still in a state of mind that held her in her own mental universe. She heard my instructions and followed them, but she had a dreaming expression in her eyes. It was like my questions and her answers had driven her into some kind of hypnosis.

A few minutes later I had the tall mature woman standing in front of me. Her small but nicely formed breasts were hidden in an elegant black bra with a finely dotted mesh overlaying the cups. She was standing with her legs spread and her hands folded behind her neck. She was still wearing the black leather boots with high heels. Without her dress I got final proof that she had followed all the instructions that I had sent her via a letter to her husband.

Black hold up stockings, no panties.

She had followed the instructions and I had now a free view to her pubic hairs which were trimmed to occupy only a tiny rim around her labia and a small area above her pubic bone. I could not resist the temptation. I reached forward and grabbed her labia with my right hand; I squeezed her genital with a firm grip. I felt the heat from her skin, steaming out of her body. We were very close.

While I was looking straight into her eyes I asked her:

“Do you remember how I prefer to come?”

She had seen me spraying my cum into the face of my wife plenty of times and she knew exactly that this was my preferred way to reach orgasm. She hesitated but eventually she told me, what I expected from her.

“You like to cum in a woman’s mouth”

I knew just as well that it was the only thing she could not give me. She had an aversion against getting semen in her mouth. It made her sick, it made her vomit.

She confessed to this delicate limit she had and I explained to her that I accepted her limit but that it would have consequences. I would punish her with the cane.

I knew that she was not particular fond of the cane. She preferred the leather whip. The pain inflicted by the cane was immediate with no possibility for escape. She had never found any pleasure from the cane the few times she had received it from her husband.

Nevertheless, she preferred the cane over the cum in her mouth. Moreover I noticed that the fact she had to accept a punishment for her refusal of a man’s desire made her very excited. I was quite satisfied with the way the conversation had unfolded. I was ready for the punishment of her.

I had her bend over the bed, legs wide apart.

When I use the cane I like to talk very laud, like a sergeant yelling at his recruits.

“Are you ready?” My question was thrown into the room.

Her confirmative answer followed and then I hit her. The impacts were, as always, located precisely a little over the equator of her buttocks.

Each stroke drew swollen red stripes on her white skin. It was amazing; I had never experienced a woman that responded with such nice swellings. It made me incredible exited and I had to unzip my leather pants. I was not wearing any underpants and my penis fell out hard and erect.

Quickly I rolled a condom on and stepped up behind my prisoner. I entered her warm body and I felt her hot desire for me. She wanted this treatment, she wanted the cane and she wanted to feel me inside while she recovered for more strokes.


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A true submissive – part 5

1 08 2009

I allowed myself to enjoy the sight of her for a few minutes. Then using a kind and obliging voice I asked her to tell me about her earliest thoughts about submissivity and masochism.

Standing bound with ropes to the wooden cross; with her legs wide spread she began talking. She was still wearing her purple dress. I had decided to let her keep her clothes on during the interrogation. I simply did not want to take the risk of becoming incredibly horny which would take the focus away from the matter.

She looked at bit uncomfortable and initiated in a hesitating and reluctant way to answer the question.

Ever since she was a young girl, in her earliest years as a teen she had had fantasies about having to obey. Maybe she found herself at a school for girls or she fantasised about being a servant. For a couple or for a single male, that was not important. It was the set-up with her having to serve.

I soon got the impression that her school fantasy was the most developed. She was given a task to fulfil, she did her best. She really tried to carry out everything required of her but eventually she failed. She made mistakes and she thereby disappointed her teacher, the headmaster had to step in.

A logical consequence of her failure was the punishment of her. She was forced to pose naked and then she was punished in the old fashioned way. The teaching of discipline as it is known from the English tradition practised in the beginning of the previous century. Caning, slapping and verbal humiliation. All made with the best intentions of getting her back on track, she understood that and she accepted it.

Of course it was a young teen girls erotic fantasy. It made her sexually aroused and it drove her to masturbation.

I wanted to poke more into her submissivity. Her desire to please. How is it expressed in the mature career woman?

She immediately followed the lead I had given her. She was now speaking fluently without any reluctance or hesitation. She gave me an example. She explained about an incidence at a party with her company. Everybody had had plenty alcoholic beverages and inhibitions were few. Suddenly her boss had asker her to sit on his lap. A request which was totally incompatible with the normal etiquette – even during a party.

She simply couldn’t say no to him. She was not found of him in any way but she could not resist his request. She sat down on his lap. Quickly he let his hand crawl along her bare thighs up under her dress. She let him continue and did nothing to prevent his hands movements under her dress.

It did not develop further. Her boss stopped the incident himself but she explained to me how there was no way on earth she could have resisted if he had taken it further. She would had sucked his tiny clerk dick and let him fuck her in both her holes had he requested it from her.

I greedily sucked every bit of information out of her flow of words. I was sitting passively taking great care not to miss anything. Every sentence, every word might be interpreted in several ways and I did not want my current mood to determine which conclusions to make. It was fascinating for me to get a glimpse into the submissive mind.

“I could not resist” it was clear that she was being completely honest. Who would have thought about this without having gotten the hints I had. A mature career woman, a mother to two childrens, a core citizen, a modern woman. Yet she could not resist the touches from a greedy old male chauvinistic pig!

I felt a great happiness right in that moment. A woman’s submissivity was a gift, the most beautiful characteristic of a woman I could imagine at all. It was a quality one had to treat with great respect.

Anyway I felt something else. All her explanations about punishment and greedy touches ignited the part of my dominance related to my sadism. The part of my personality going right into my sexuality. I was being turned on by her stories.


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A true submissive – part 4

30 07 2009

I instructed her to stand completely still in the middle of the room. She was a tall woman; she was now standing without her grey and ugly cotton coat. Thereby a very attractive woman was revealed. She was wearing a dark purple dress with a finely woven pattern carried out with thin gold threads.

She looked straight into the wall which was two meters in front of her. From my position in the sofa I was sitting in a right angel to the path of her sight. I just sad there, letting the calm come to me. Slowly the noise and hurry from the outside world began to fade. A peaceful state of mind began to spread inside me.

I rose from my sitting position, moved towards her and began to touch her carefully with my hands. Without thinking any thoughts I just let my hands wander across her still fully dressed body, feeling every little irregularity, any bump, the tiniest dent.

I moved back and assumed my previous position in the sofa. Just before I sat down I made a sign to her with my hand. It was an instruction to follow me.

“Kneel”

My word had a sudden impact on her. She almost threw herself to the floor landing just before my knees that were slightly spread. She was eager for pleasing me and she must have interpreted my signs as a signal for her to show her capacity for pleasing a man sexually. She immediately reached for the buckle of the belt in my black leather pants. Her breath was in a forced pace and she was clearly aroused.

“Don’t”

The word was thrown out of my mouth as a clear order coming from a not very satisfied commander.

Frightened she stopped here movements. She was already on her knees end I pushed into a position where she was resting on hands and knees in front of me. She reacted promptly but her submissive movement and her frightened appearance made me wonderfully angry.

I continued telling her how low she was. She had acted like a horny little bitch when all I wanted was a gracious, calm lady following simple instructions about how to position herself.

Gradually I calmed. I stood up and had her crawl the few meters towards the red painted wall where the black wooden cross was fixed. Then she was allowed to stand up. I Cuffed her wrists with the leather cuffs and used short robes to fasten the cuffs to the cross via their metal rings. Her legs were also fastened using robes and she ended up standing with her lags apart and her hands above her head.

It was a beautiful sight.

I moved back to the sofa, sat down and began to relax.

From my pocket I took out a piece of paper carelessly folded several times. I unfolded the paper which carried small sentences written in my handwriting. Sentences – in fact it was questions and small remarks written by me to aid in my interrogation of her.

I was ready to begin the interrogation.


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A true submissive – part 3

27 07 2009

The taxi drive was uneventful which was a relief. Our destination was a four storeys block located at Nørrebro, the Copenhagen Bronx equivalent. Those days a war was going on between rivalling gangs in the neighbourhood and that had made me a bit nervous. My fear proved, however, to be unjustified.

She didn’t show any signs of being nervous, she showed complete trust in me and she seemed to be looking very much forward to what was about to come. I pressed the buzzer, the door made a noise and opened slowly by the pressure from my right shoulder. In fact it was a bit difficult to get the door opened because I was carrying my large black sports bag filled with ropes, whips, leather cuffs and a collection of dildoes.

Inside the building we had to climb the stairs to the third floor. We entered the gallery and found our way to the right door. I had the key in my pocket.

“look into the ground” I ordered her. She obeyed willingly.

I used my key and opened the door. I manoeuvred her into the very little hall which barely left room for the two of us. I quickly closed the door leaving us in complete darkness. She did not move at all. I carefully tried to find the switch for the light and finally succeeded. A weak electric light illuminated the hallway from the adjacent small kitchen.

She was still standing with her sight focused at the ground. I produced at black blindfold from my pocket at placed it over her face. With her blindfolded I had more freedom to prepare the next room for her arrival. I got rid of my cotton coat and the bag; I adjusted the light to give a nice pleasant glow in the adjacent room. Then I guided her five steps forward which brought her into the room.

I removed her coat and then her blindfold.

She was completely taken by surprise. She made a gasping sound. “What kind of place is this?”

I was quite satisfied with her surprise. The room was in fact a very special room considering the fact that is was the main room in an apartment in an ordinary building block in Copenhagen’s Bronx.

The flat was a fully equipped SM room. The walls were painted in a dark red colour, a black wooden cross occupied one wall and at the end of the room was a giant wooden bed with black bedding and surrounded by mirrors in silver frames. Steel chains hang from the ceiling. Opposite from the bed was a leather sofa positioned beneath the windows which were covered with black curtains yielding complete darkness even in the middle of the day.

It looked like the SM department in a whorehouse and in fact the room was occasionally used by professional dominas who brought their customers there for business.

I had rented the place for five hours. The place was perfect for my experiment. How would it be to play with a true submissive?


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A true submissive – part 2

26 07 2009

Her being with that train, that particular day was a consequence of acts orchestrated by me.  She was a woman in her forties, a woman one would expect to be married, which was in fact the case. I knew her and her husband quite well. They were good friends of me and my wife. Like us, they are devoted to sadomasochistic role-plays and like us, she is a submissive and masochistic woman while her husband is the dominant, sadistic male in these games.

Usually we meet in private. The children are sent away and the living room transformed into a dungeon-like place ready for adult pleasures.

I began to desire her some time ago. It had just become worse and worse or better and better depending on how you view it. She had quitted smoking and as a consequence of this her metabolism declined and she had gained weight. Then her hips had changed stressing her female character. Her breasts had also gained volume, a transformation from small empty bags to nice handfuls of female flesh.

They lived in a very liberal relationship. They believed that if one of them got the possibility for a great sexual experience, it was legitimate to grab it. I was quite convinced that the attraction I felt towards her was mutual. I was certain that I could persuade her husband to lend her to me. The main problem was my wife. Our relationship was not very liberal in that sense. She quickly became jealous and I knew it was not worth bringing up the subject.

Sometimes things simply don’t go as planned. This creates the unexpected opportunities. I had planned a session together with my wife and another young slavebitch that I had dug up at the Internet. I had already booked the apartment and there was only one week until the day we had set. The slavebitch had to cancel. Her vanilla husband had invited her on a repair love trip to Rome. How nice! Rome in March, that was a cheap trick!

Anyway I was left with an already booked apartment and a wife who would much rather prefer to stay at home. The solution was straight forward. I contacted my friend and asked if I could borrow his wife. He agreed and I told my wife that the arrangement was off. Voila, I could then look forward to finally having the long desired subwoman for my self.

Ok I had to cheat on my wife but you are not a free man if you don’t take chances.


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A true submissive – part 1

19 07 2009

The first real project here on my blog is for me to describe an SM session that I had with a submissive woman this March. It will probably take me some weeks to write it and I will post as I go along.

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A true submissive – part 1

The winter was about to turn into spring. That is, in Denmark this is only reflected in the calendar. Global worming or not, it is always frustrating windy, chilling and dim all into April.

I was standing on the S-train platform at a suburban station. Ryparken, was the name of the station, it is located in a old working class area which has now transformed more into a Ghetto for descendants of Turkish, and Middle Eastern emigrants.

S-train – why is it called S-train? In fact nobody knows, not even the Danish railways that have been operating this subway-like service for decades. Maybe the word stands for Subway?

I was thinking such thoughts while I was waiting for the train to arrive from the north, from the more fashionable part of the Copenhagen area. She was supposed to arrive at eleven o’clock and I was supposed to be at work, which of course was not the case.

At home I had taken an enema during my morning bath, using the shower tube. The problem with this procedure is that it takes hours before I stop releasing colonic content. The solution being to perform the procedure twice. Once before my wife is awake and then a final round after she has left the house for going to work.

I am the Dom, the top. Why do I have to perform this procedure? I like to feel her tongue in my ass but I still haven’t got the guts to demand her tongue right there without being completely clean. I am working on it, maybe one day I won’t have to waist time cleaning out my intestine before having my ass licked.

It was five minutes since I arrived. It was freezing cold at the platform. The wind created a feeling of sub zero temperature but it was in fact a few degrees Celsius above zero. It was a grey day, typical for that time of year. The grey thick clouds made the blue sky invisible. A grey low hanging mass of clouds from the earliest dawn until darkness arrived around four o’clock in the afternoon.

Again a southbound S-train approached. The red wagon slit onto the platform. The mechanical sign confirmed that the train originated from the North of Copenhagen. She should be with that train.

The doors opened with their characteristic rattling sound. A few people exited the train, I saw her almost immediately. A tall, slim woman with a marked face, brownish shoulder long hair and wearing the most ugly grey cotton coat imaginable. Her height was further increased by her black leather boots equipped with very high heels. She was considerably higher that I.

Our eyes met, her face transformed into a nice smile while we approached each other. We met in a hug lasting a short while. Then I took over, greeted her and explained her, the immediate plan.

“We are going to take a taxi from the station”

She didn’t have an opinion; she just smiled and followed me towards the stairs at the end of the platform.


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Masochistic fantasies

17 07 2009

BDSM was introduced rather late in my marriage. We had been married for ten years and known each other for twenty years when I one day told her about my long lasting fantasies about sex in another way. Sex inspired by Fetish outfit and physical SM-activities.

We began experimenting and it turned out that we both enjoyed bondage sessions with me as the dominant top. My wife also revealed some masochistic tendencies as she fancied moderate pain such as the pain from hot wax and moderate strength whipping.

The cane on the other hand was never something she appreciated which was a shame, because I really enjoy every aspect of the cane – seen from the sadist perspective.

During correspondence with masochist girls that I had met on dating sites, I realised that most, if not all of them, had since their adolescence had fantasies about being dominated, humiliated or whipped.

I approached my wife about this in various ways. I asked her directly, I asked her to describe fantasies in writing, I asked her about related issues that might reveal her early and secret fantasies.

In the end I came to the conclusion that she had none. She had never had any fantasies about being dominated, humiliated or being beaten.

In our plays I often felt a restriction – very much coming from my self. I did not like to take it beyond a certain point because I felt that it was past her limits. Limits that she did not like to admit because it would reveal a mismatch in our relationship.

Finally I ended up spending much time wondering how it would be to play with a “true” masochist. A woman who had had such dreams since adolescence.

We know another couple where he is dom and she is sub. We meet four or five times every year for playing. The woman (we can call her Jane) once told us how she had masochistic fantasies as a young woman. It was in the days without internet and she used the dating columns in the ordinary newspapers to contact sadists. She did meet an older guy, but it did not lead to a partnership.

I was very intrigued by this story and I began fantasising about being with this woman. That is I knew her pretty well and I had often flogged her and fucked her but always with her husband and my wife present.

No, I was fantasising about having her to play with alone. I wanted to feel exactly how it would be dominating a woman whom I knew always had had fantasies about domination.

All good things come to those who waits!

This winter I got the opportunity. Her husband who is a good friend of mine offered me to borrow his wife for a session.

I gladly accepted the offer and the experience represent an important turning point for me.

I will describe the session in the followings posts.


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Liftoff

16 07 2009

It is a good day to die, it is as good as any day and that is why I risk launching my weblog on this very day.

I am not a newcomer when it comes to expressing my thoughts in cyber but until now I have exclusively blogged in my native language – Danish.

Currently I am in a no man’s land waiting for my divorce to become a reality.

I live in Copenhagen which is the capital of the most humanistic country in the world.

In Denmark, we only expel refuges when they have had their case proved at the courts. Thus we give them a glimpse of paradise, let them stay in our Hans Christian Anderson utopia for several years and then send them back to Bagdad where they have every possibility to help their own country and themselves.

Well, I wait because my wife has to find an apartment where she can live with our two boys. When that is settled I can get my divorce.

I am staying in our house, an arrangement that I am completely satisfied with. The dept equals the current price in case of a sale and I therefore do not have to pay my wife anything, I only need to keep on paying the monthly instalments to the bank.

Hurray for the financial crises!

two yeas ago I would not have had the money to stay in the house because it would have cost me 300.000 Danish crones (40.000 EUR) up front to my wife.

On the other hand now we cannot sell the house without loosing money. Thus I stay in the house – a fair deal.

It is still my holiday which will end on Sunday

in my nice, quite and lonely hours in the house I am beginning to plan some changes to the interior.

Being a sadist, that is I get off dominating women and inflicting pain on them, I would very much like to equip my house better when it comes to SM-plays.

Specifically an old dream would be to install some kind of a cage in the house.

A cage for housing a female slave for weeks.

I am still not sure where the cage should be placed, how large it should be or which type to choose but now that my wife and children soon are gone, I have the entire house at my disposal.

Surely, I should be able to come up with a satisfying solution.


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Categories : BDSM, divorce, masochism, sadism, SM, Thoughts


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