Curiosity, Consequences and Submission.
Reflecting On A Year
By one of Ms Kay’s ‘good boys’
Ms Kay, our most recent session together marks the 13th time you have visited your tender mercies on me. During this you enquired about what my favourite things were that you had done to me. There were a number that immediately sprung to mind, and if not for the gag I was wearing at the time, I would have gladly recounted these to you. At the end of the session I brought this up again, and you suggested that I should write an essay and send it to you.
In truth, initially I only considered writing this essay as something I had better do, lest you decide not to release me from my current predicament. (At the time of writing I am in day 3 of my week long chastity) In preparing to write the essay however it became more. As I looked back through my testimonials for context I realised just how much there was that had not jumped immediately to mind. I eventually found myself using this essay as an excuse to re-read every testimonial, and relive every futile struggle, every peg applied and removed, every swing of the flogger, every crack of the tawse and every moan or laugh you have extracted from me.
Writing an essay now seems like the least I can do to say thank you for all those memories.
Without further ado, I would like to recount three of my ‘favourite’ things you have done to me. In addition to being fun, these stand out to me as they were milestones on my journey to both enjoying submission, and finding out what kind of submissive I enjoyed being. These are individual elements within sessions rather than sessions as a whole, and I have whittled the list down to three (in no special order) rather than write a report which would be longer than War And Peace. These are followed by a fourth occasion, which we briefly discussed in the past, something which actually meant the world to me.
My First Panties.
Such a simple thing and one that I that I have no doubt you have seen many time before. It was our second session and the first time I had made a specific request of you. I was still extremely nervous around you and I was worried that I may have crossed some unspoken line by making such a request. The following day during the pre-session discussion you didn’t bring it up, and I remember feeling disappointed. Maybe I hadn’t given you enough time or maybe you had forgotten. Then we went to your upper room and I saw the panties neatly laid out on the chair just inside the door. I remember my breath catching in my throat and trembling as I looked at them.
Most of all though I remember the way you said ‘You’re going to put those on’ It wasn’t phrased as an order, a request or a suggestion. Nor was there any malice in your voice. It was like you were simply stating a fact. I did, And it felt right. Now I was the one in the pretty lingerie, I was the centre of the show. Or perhaps I was the deer in the headlights.
At the end of the session I expected to return them as I had given no thought to what happened next. You however knew exactly what to do. You informed me that these were mine, and over the course of the next couple of sessions you pushed me to change from bringing them with me, to wearing them on the drive over.
In hindsight, the first time I wore panties, was the moment I made the change from someone who was interested in exploring submission, to being someone who was a submissive. You had given me the gift of submission, but it was submission given form. It was something I could hold in my hand, and slip on as a symbol that I would yield to your instructions. To this day, my female underwear is still part of my process. My breath catches when I put them on, and I submit to my fate. Soon I will be in Ms Kay’s clutches.
Still one of my favourite bondage scenarios that you crafted when I leave the specifics to you. I was lying on my back on your massage table, my feet tied open to the bottom corners, and my hands were tied, crossed at the wrist to the top. The bonds were tighter that you normally do with fewer options to squirm around. Then you put a peg on each of my nipples and tied those with string to the top of the table. They were tied tight enough that there were just beginning to pull on my nipples, causing discomfort not pain. The string was also quite tight over my arms, meaning I had to keep them as flat as possible on the table to avoid creating extra tension on the string, and the tight rope on my ankles meant I could not squirm my way up the table to release pressure.
Then came your final brilliant twist. You applied a TENS pad to each thigh, and just let it run. It was in a pattern where it would pulse slowly starting from almost nothing, gradually building up in intensity, before delivering a long continuous shock at full power. When it was at full power I had a series of options. I could let it cause me to jump, in which case I would pull on the pegs on my nipples. I could force my legs flat onto the table, and the resulting involuntary muscles actions would cause my torso to move down the table, and pull on my nipples. Or I could tense up enough keep my legs from moving, however this meant I had to tense up my entire body, including my arm and chest muscles, creating tension on my nipples.
To top it all off you just watched my torment, and the second that I finally managed to get a rhythm that would minimize my discomfort, you would press a button and change the pattern.
It was that day that I realized that I like being placed in predicaments. Its a almost like a little game we play, your mind against mine. Only the game is rigged, as you get decide both the game and the rules before hand, and I have to work them out as we go. And of course there is the unspoken rule of the game, you cant lose.
Sadly, this was also the first time I got to have a small taste of disappointment in one of our sessions, as the photos you had taken had not saved properly. I wanted so desperately to see what it had looked like. On the bright side though, you did state we would obviously have to do it again some time.
My Mental Break.
The final thing you did to me that I was always remember was to break my mind. This happened at the end of a session in which I had been bound on your table and been treated to nipple clamps, shocks, caning, flogging, tickling, all while gagged and blindfolded. After thrashing around for what seemed like an eternity, I finally fell limp, and just let it happen. I was completely exhausted both mentally and physically and it must of shown as you took the time to ensure that I was OK. It was after you were assured that I was, you crushed my mind.
Untied, I was lent over your table and presented my bottom which you proceeded to viciously flog. After several strikes you demanded to know how many that was, to which I responded ‘four’ You snapped back ‘four what?’ ‘four mistress!’ came my immediate response, followed by another snap on my back, along with the instruction to thank you. So it proceeded with my counting the stroke and proclaiming ‘Thank You Mistress’ each time and I’ll admit I was revealing in it. You had me on a hook and you knew it. And then after I series of quick strikes back to back, you asked what the count was, and to my horror I realized that I didn’t know.
I reflected on that day a lot and I still cant tell you what happened. In lieu of a better answer I choose to believe it was a combination of fatigue from the rest of the session, and a desire for the session not to end. Regardless we started from one and finally got to the end. During the second count my resistance to pain was slowly breaking down and as you have done in the past, you read the situation and dialled it down so the session could come to a natural rather than abrupt end.
That was the day that I began to fully realise just how good you were at reading me, both in terms of making the session enjoyable, but also in keeping at a safe level. It was probably the day my growing trust in you was cemented.
Anyway that cover some of my favourite things you did ‘to’ me. I would however like to share the most important thing you did ‘for’ me. It’s something I have briefly discussed before however I think I can do it more just here than in a conversation. I have no doubt that to you it was literally nothing, however to me it ended up meaning so much.
My Comforting Laugh
This actually happened in the hours leading up to our first session. As you know I suffer from a little bit of social anxiety and get nervous when meeting people. This is at the best of times and gets worse in more stressful circumstances, like meeting a professional domme for the first time. As a result, in the days leading up to our first session I found myself swinging back and forth between excitement and abject terror.
It all stemmed from the fact that somehow I had built up this mental image of you, in which you were a monster in human form who fed on the suffering of other. I found myself in two minds, almost like in a cartoon where different parts of a characters personality appear as spirits and whisper in their ear. On one side was my adventurous, ‘macho’ side, which was saying ‘Come on, it’ll be an adventure. All those testimonials were written by wimps, but your a strong Scottish man and you’ll show her a thing or two’ And on the other hand was my more logical and cautious side, who was saying ‘ Are you nuts!!! You’ve read those testimonials. Your not that strong, no-one is. This woman is going to eat you alive’
The main reason I didn’t cancel was that I had promised both you and myself that I wouldn’t waste your time, and I try to take my promises seriously. So with this battle between my two sides being waged inside me I spent an hour pacing back and forth (I pace when I’m thinking) thinking about what was to come. Then taking a deep breath I called you to confirm the appointment and get directions.
Your reply ‘Sorry, I’m walking the dog right now. Can I call you back in 15 minutes?’
After ending the call I looked at my phone for a moment that burst out laughing. This was one of those deep belly laughs that lasted so long I had to lean on the wall to avoid falling over. Even after a minute the laugh had only died down to a chuckle. I felt like such an idiot. The mental image of my two sides were now in a corner trying to avoid looking at each other.
That one comment had erased all my preconceptions about you. You were a person, not a monster. I was still nervous, but I can deal with people. If I had gone into that first session with those preconceptions intact, I’m sure it would have coloured my experience and its possible that I may not have enjoyed it as much as I did.
As stands though, I made it to your door, and you were able to take care of the rest.
I hope you enjoy sessions as much as I do, and I happy that this essay makes you smile as much as made me did when writing it.