Meet Me

I met my Master at the tail end of a gruelling year in many ways from a bad break up with an ill advised boyfriend, family issues and two close friends almost dying. Plus for added cliche I had had a wobble about why I wasn’t married and having babies in my mid thirties as that seems to be last acceptable point at which to be single and childless without being seen as desperate or having missed your chance somehow.

In lieu of finding anyone who agreed with my seemingly outlandish idea that relationships didn’t require marriage, babies or mortgages to validate how serious they were I was having a clandestine affair with a married man I knew through work. Being someone’s mistress seemed like the best compromise between not settling down in the suburbs and my temptation to never date again out of sheer bloody mindedness.

In the middle of this I went to a friend’s wedding and met my Master. I don’t remember how we were actually introduced out of all the people there when I knew no one except the bride and he wasn’t actually meant to be there having only stepped in a plus one to help out a friend.

This slight lapse means that my first impression of my Master was thinking he’d be absolutely filthy and that I’d very very much like to fuck him. My second impression took months to actually work out but right from the start he calmed me down. My usual cunt first think second self would have pursued a quick fuck with him and probably still sat down in time for dinner never to see him again.

Instead he got me to behave immediately and actually consider for once that fucking and running wasn’t a good idea (especially since I’d already fucked the married man earlier that day.) Instead we flirted all evening and by text for several months, meeting once more for a drink but nothing more.

I couldn’t read the situation as it was unlike anything else I was used to. It was like he was setting a pace and instead of being bored by a lack of fucking I was enjoying the chase. It was a full three months before things progressed from potential pleasantries into perverted fun.

In the space of about twenty minutes texting one evening just before Christmas we discussed kink and I had my hand down my knickers for him greedy for the pay off of all those months of waiting.

But it wasn’t quite as simple as it sounds. My cunt loved the idea of being told what to do but my heart and mind wasn’t so sure about being controlled. I was in the process of stepping away from people who felt entitled to control my life and I was cynical about walking towards someone saying they wanted me to obey them from the outset.

I don’t know if my Master sensed just how skittish I was about trusting anyone at this stage in my life or if he just assumed that I was being cautious about committing to kink. But he went very carefully introducing just enough moderation to each filthy text based task to make sure I had to obey each stage to get my rewards from him without barking orders at me that would make me bolt.

He offered me the full D/s relationship up front or a fling if I preferred and unable to trust my own judgement after a lifetime of bad judgements with men I opted for the latter not realising he was training me from the very outset.

The first time we fucked he left work early after I gave him my address and left my front door open so a man I’d met twice could let himself into my house and find me waiting for him with my fingers in my cunt. In that moment he proved to me that he would not misuse the trust I was putting in him.

For the first time I understood that introducing a power dynamic to a relationship didn’t mean only one person had power but that it was shared. That you can’t have dominance without willing and active submission and anything else is an abuse. I had always been led to believe that to want to submit was somehow weakness on my part and an excuse to misbehave on other people’s but here was a man who valued that submission.

It was incredibly hot. I don’t think I’d ever had as many orgasms as in that first six months that my Master was training me. But I also found it incredibly challenging. Considering how naturally it came to me to submit, it was an active effort to keep trusting and believe that the developing relationship was genuine.

The hardest part for me was that my Master never gave me any reason to doubt or distrust him and so I knew all that fear and hesitation was coming entirely from me and my baggage and that the only way for me to get past it was to outrun it. If I’d discussed it with my Master I knew I’d just be bringing a different edition of the same shit with me in my head.

Instead I kept going to see my therapist and concentrating on being so present in my submission I didn’t have room to carry anything else with me in my head that distracted from it. I didn’t imagine where the relationship was going or what it meant for the future (possibly a bit too much so I didn’t quite realise what the offer of the collar really meant from him at the time.)

I was just sure there would be a moment when the submission and my ability to trust would feel equally easy and create an equilibrium and I’d know that that shit was in the past rather than trying to muscle in on the present all the time.

And I was right. That moment was actually the first time my Master introduced Princess and I in our first threesome when I went from thinking ‘what if?’ as if looking back about everything he instructed me to do and started thinking ‘why not?’ as if looking forward. That  moment I began to trust myself as much as I trusted him.

Being my usual slightly slow self it took me a while to see the emotional significance of the particular moment but now makes perfect sense. I can’t imagine a relationship with my Master without Princess and vice versa but at the time I simply couldn’t believe how different my life was in the space of a year with my Master being so patient with me.

Turns out you can do a lot when you trust the right person to make decisions for you….

Meet Me

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