I wanted to publish what I had written after the first night I tried submission. I love reading it back and feeling the raw innocence of it all, how writing it reconciled my feelings and conflict. Now I see I very much threw myself in at the deep end. I wanted to be pushed as far out of my comfort zone as possible.

For this blog, I wanted to start at the very beginning. It is a long one, but worth it.

I knock on the door, he answers. For some reason I was expecting to be led through for a catch up, a friendly natter and to be offered a drink. Instead the first thing he did was set my bags down, and put a thick heavy collar round my neck. I smiled as he did it, looking at the floor too embarrassed to make eye contact. He fastened the padlock round the back and pulled my mane of hair out. I cursed getting up too late that morning to style it properly. The end of the lead was in his hand. I felt the harsh edges sitting on my collar bones and press under my chin. I had chosen an unforgiving collar. I didn’t want anything pretty, or lined, or thin. This collar covered my tiny neck and made me instantly sopping wet.

I was led to the bedroom, he held the lead high and the tips of my fingers were holding it, I swayed in my 6 inch heels. I felt weak at the knees at this point wondering what the hell I had let myself in for, but excited and horny and sexy. I spent the whole week in anticipation of tonight, and the whole day anxious. I had put a lot of trust in him, there was no plan except the collar and a brand new beautiful blindfold I could only appreciate for a second before it was put over my face. My world went black and would stay that way for hours.

I was lead across the room in my heels, they made me feel tall and sexy and I wanted to look my best for him, but now I felt vulnerable and unsteady wearing them while blindfolded.
‘Strip for me.’

I suddenly felt stupid, I smiled and fidgeted out of embarrassment. I had bought new underwear for the occasion but hesitated to take my clothes off. I felt silly standing there, horny as hell, being told to take off my clothes. I removed my top in the same fashion you would if you were just getting changed. Nothing alluring or sensual about it. I was awkward and uncomfortable. I pulled the end of the lead through my top and stood there in heels, tiny denim shorts and bra. I felt completely naked already. Probably sensing my awkwardness he held my shoulders and sat me down on the chair. I waited patiently, all my senses 100% attuned into my surroundings, listening to the shuffle as he moved in the room. I didn’t say anything.

‘Masturbate for me. Stick your hand in your pussy.’

Now this was more like it, this I could do. I parted my knees wide, put my hands in my underwear and gasped at how wet I was already. I hadn’t come all week, I hadn’t touched myself all week. It’s not like he told me not too, but I was saving it all up for today. I was ready to orgasm within seconds.

‘Can I come?’ I asked.

‘No, not yet.’

Shit, why did I ask? I could have just quietly orgasmed in front of him, he wouldn’t even noticed. I noted this from last time, he didn’t know my body yet, I could have just done it. I immediately regretted asking. ‘I’m so close.’ I said. He moved me onto the bed and slid my shorts off.
‘I want you to bring yourself as close as possible without coming.’

I barely needed to move my fingers, a few more seconds would have done it, but I wasn’t allowed.

This is where my mind goes blank. My recollection of the events of the next 8 hours are sketchy. I remember what happened, but not in what order. I don’t remember what happened next on the bed, but I think that was the last time I smiled for a few hours. There are blanks, I could have lost a minute or an hour. This is my account of events, step by step of what I remember. I spent so long detached from coherent thought, recounting exactly what I felt or thought at the time is nearly impossible. This account is disjointed, but imagine it as my personal point of view, remembering is like slipping in and out of an event randomly.

My hands were tied tightly in front of me in smooth rope, I was kneeling on the floor, still blindfolded, he was on a chair with his cock shoved in my face.  He commanded me to suck it, and I did. My hands were tied and I couldn’t move them the way I wanted. I couldn’t be the best, my jaw wouldn’t fully open because the collar was so restrictive. I knew I could give amazing oral and all the while I knew I was doing terribly by comparison. He might not know that, but I did. He tugged on the lead forcing his cock further into my throat. He yanked on my hair thrusting as deep as he could. I tried to pleasure him with my hands. My hair was a complete mess and I fussed as I tried pulling strands away from my mouth. The more I pulled my hair out the more annoyed he got every time I pulled away to brush hair from my face. ‘Leave your hair alone!’ He pushed my face back into his erection. I could feel the hair edging down the back of my tongue. That’s the last thing I need, choking on his cock, choking on this collar, and choking on my own hair.

‘My hair clip is around here somewhere’, I said, still brushing hair away.
‘I don’t know where it is.’

For fuck sake, I can’t work under these conditions, I don’t know how he expects me to please him when I’m fighting with a bird’s nest on my head and bound wrists.
‘Well fucking find it then!’ I yelled in frustration.

Was it just because I couldn’t please him the way I knew I could without all this shit in the way, or sheer defiance that caused me to break my submission?

‘I don’t like your tone with me.’

He forced me to the floor, his weight pressing me into the carpet. I could feel the harshness of the fibres rubbing against my bare skin. He forced his cock into me and sunk his teeth into my arm hard enough for me to push his head away and fight back. He pushed my knickers into my mouth. I could tell what it was from the lace and the tang in the smell of my pussy juices from earlier. I panicked thinking he was going to tape my mouth shut. Muffled I screamed, ‘How will I talk!’ I spat them out and said it again, I was petrified I wouldn’t be able to use my safe word. ‘Shut up’ he said, and pushed them back into my mouth. It dried out my tongue, I was whimpering, he pushed the fabric in further. My mouth was now dry and my tongue was preventing it from going any further so I couldn’t form any words. I felt so relieved when he didn’t tape or tie anything round my mouth; I obediently left it in exactly where he put it.

<Blank>

I remember something being pushed into my arse. I couldn’t see what it was, I didn’t know how big it was, I could only concentrate on relaxing so it wasn’t painful. I switched from being too proud to use my safe word, trying to prove something to not wanting to so I could please him by letting him do anything to me and then enjoying the sensation of whatever was in me. My world faded as all I focused on was breathing, I didn’t move.  I remember him telling me I was a good girl. I didn’t care at this point, I was paralysed on the floor. I don’t know how long this lasted before he stood up and said ‘Don’t move.’
I was on my back, my hands tied together, my fingertips tucked into the top of my collar, I wasn’t holding it in pain. It was my comfort; as was the blindfold. My underwear was still in my mouth.  I cried without tears on the floor, whimpering, pathetic, unable to move, I didn’t move. I didn’t move at all. I was in exactly the same position when he returned.

<Blank>

I was covered in his come and disgusted with myself. I had let him do it.
He had a chunk of my hair in his fist holding my head in place. I was blindfolded. I could hear his heavy breathing  and moaning as he rubbed his cock in my face. I can’t  even remember if my hands were tied, but I didn’t move them. They were up in front of me in a protective stance, almost pleading him. I had told him I hated it, knowing that he would do it anyway to make me feel disgusting. I wanted it, I wanted to feel worthless and reduced to being covered and looking like a pathetic, abused slut. My teeth were gritted down. He came and I felt the warm liquid drench me, it didn’t stop. It covered my face, my chin, my chest. The worst part was, somehow it was up my nose. I hated it, the thought he would be relishing in seeing me covered like this. It was humiliating. I knew my lips showed the disgust, that’s a face you can’t fake. When does it stop being role play and become your reality?

<Blank>

I was naked on the bathroom floor, huddled and cowering, unable to move. My blindfold was off, I only had on my collar. I didn’t dare look up. I couldn’t see him, the object of my abuse and humiliation, my pleasure and affection. I didn’t move for ages, I don’t know how long. Next thing I see his bare feet coming towards me and he covers me in a dressing gown. I pull it round myself. I didn’t care that I was naked, but this was the first nice thing he had done for ages. He didn’t say anything. Next thing that came along was a drink. I was so thirsty. He had been giving me drink all night, every now and then. Except it was alcoholic, and strong. I had no idea how much I had drunk. But I guzzled it down anyway. I didn’t even feel drunk, I don’t know what I felt, I was still unable to move. I was more intoxicated by the evenings events than the alcohol. I wanted to smoke. I could hear him moving about the house. I whimpered a little, I didn’t know what to do but I couldn’t get up. My thoughts were incoherent, it was like I was still blindfolded and I couldn’t do anything for myself. I called out his name, pleading, I felt pathetic as I said it but I wanted him to look after me now. I wanted him to help me. As he approached me I pushed the end of my lead towards him. He took it, I unsteadily stood up and he lead me to the balcony. I didn’t lift my head, I didn’t look at him. It was dark now, I had no idea what the time was. I sat down in the cool night air and lit a cigarette all by myself and smoked it while I slowly came back to my senses.

<Blank>

I had to get back to normal, just for a little while. He was in the kitchen eating. I looked in the mirror, my face was bare where my makeup had come off, my hair was a mess. I looked tired and worn. I found my underwear and put them back on. I found my make up, I freshened up my face and reapplied foundation, blusher and lipstick. No point bothering with mascara I thought, I didn’t want to look like a panda again. I found my hair clip and pulled my hair back. There was fuck all I could do with it, it was completely knotty and matted in places. I noticed there were trails of white dried semen down my body, I did my best to wash them off, in the end I gave up. I put on my heels and sauntered into the kitchen. He was scoffing pizza, wearing black trousers and a white shirt. I put my hands around him from behind and unbuttoned his shirt slowly. I pulled it off and put it on myself and walked away wearing it. I knew it pleased him. I wanted to tease him. He had reduced me to a quivering wreck earlier, now I was back to normal I was tempting him to ruin it all over again. I stood out on the balcony in my heels and his shirt smoking and drinking, seductive and confident in my body language, a small moment of control back.

<Blank>

I was naked and being handcuffed to the chair. He didn’t muck about either, these handcuffs were metal and he pushed them together tightly so they pressed into the bones on my wrist. I wriggled in them trying to get my wrist in a more comfortable position. ‘Don’t move.’ I stood there naked and blindfolded, handcuffed to the chair wincing in discomfort, he left the room. Or did he? Could I sense him watching me or was it my imagination? I was going out of my mind. It was like I could see through the blindfold, him standing in the doorway, watching me. Straight faced but distinctly pleased with what he saw. I focused my ears as much as I could. In the end I decided he had gone, he must have left the room. I sat down, praying he wasn’t watching or that he didn’t walk back into the room and see that I had moved. The discomfort in my wrists had turned into pain. Now that he wasn’t here the pain was all I could focus on and I couldn’t take it standing, I had to relax. I felt better. I probably only sat for about 30 seconds, I couldn’t tell, but I didn’t dare sit any longer in case he returned. Even writing this now, I fear I will be punished later for admitting I moved when I was told not to. Again, I don’t remember the exact events, but when he returned the next thing I remember is straddling him on the chair, wishing I had my heels on still as I was too short to really move up and down on his cock while he was sitting on the chair, still handcuffed and unable to move my hands which were awkwardly to one side. I was wincing from the pain in my wrists and at the same time my pussy clenching down on his cock in pleasure. But with every move I made I was causing more pain in my wrists but I had to please him, and I had to please myself just for a little while. My legs were tired and I was on tiptoes trying to do a good job at fucking him, but I couldn’t. I felt disappointed in myself. Why had it got to the point where all I wanted was to be as good as I could, yet everything he was doing seemed to hinder me? I was mentally and emotionally exhausted that there were only windows of my normal intellect where I questioned it before drifting back into the room where he had my whole attention.

Thinking back, the parts that were the most vivid were when I wasn’t actually having sex. The emotional submission and the pain, my senses taking in the things they could while blindfolded are most vivid. The rest of the time my mind was like soup, I couldn’t think for myself, I couldn’t move without being moved.

The only time I snapped out suddenly was once in the middle when I was desperate for the toilet, I was so afraid I was going to wet myself and cause an awful mess on his bed and be punished for that. I didn’t know the rules, am I even allowed to go? I had been drinking all night and this was the 1st time I even needed to go. I panicked and I said my safe word. But it didn’t come out properly. He didn’t hear it. Now I can’t work out if I just said it in my head or if I actually said it out loud or just whimpered it incoherently. I tried again as I physically struggled against him for real, I was saying something like, ‘I said my safe word please stop I said it!’ as he held me down still, but I can’t tell even now if it came out of my mouth. It was like the volume was slowly being turned up on my voice before I yelled it out loud and clear. He got off me and I pulled myself out of the room pulling up my blindfold slightly to see where I was going and went to the bathroom. I sat on the toilet, rocking back and forth, hands still tied, suddenly too distressed to actually pee.

It only occurs to me now, after we talked about that moment the next morning, did I actually say my safe word properly the 1st time? He said he didn’t hear it, I believe him, I trust he would have acted immediately if he had heard it. I said it clearly the second time, but I had to build up to it. Reading accounts and articles about the state of mind of a submissive I think I understand this situation. I was too deep to speak, there comes a point where you can’t say anything. Slowly I got deeper and deeper and I couldn’t get myself back out when I wanted to. I wanted to say my safe word, I said it even if it was only in my head, but it took a lot longer for my voice to work.

The pinnacle of the whole session happened the next morning. I took off my collar to go to sleep. I had planned to keep it on the whole time but decided to take it off, he suggested it 1st so I agreed. I can’t remember falling asleep, or if we had sex before going to sleep, I do remember waking up early. I woke slightly hung over, I had my blindfold on but I was using it as a sleep mask as the sun was coming up by the time we decided to stop. My entire arm was in pain, the source was one bite on the back of my shoulder, on my shoulder blade. I remember feeling it at the time, but the pain was intense now and I couldn’t get comfortable, I rolled into his chest for comfort. My arm was numb and painful at the same time. As I moved in bed various other bruises, bites, friction burns woke up all over my body. My arse was raw and bruised, there were raised welts from being spanked throughout the night. My wrists were still sore from the handcuffs. I was instantly turned on. I got out of bed and found my collar, and put it back on. It was so uncomfortable now. The points that it had been rubbing on all night now woke up, it was worse putting it back on than wearing it for hours on end. I got back into bed and tried to go back to sleep, frustrated as he was still completely out of it. I wanted him to wake up and fuck me. I thought about sucking his cock and arousing him into waking up, but  I didn’t, he hadn’t commanded me to. So I tried to sleep.

<Blank>

I don’t remember how the events of the morning unfolded. Somehow I slipped easily back into submission, but in a conscious happy way. I wanted him to fuck me in the ass and I was going to be good as gold until I got it.

All my senses focused on relaxing my body and mind as he started to push his cock into me. I breathed deeply and slowly. The pain from my shoulder faded, the collar was no longer there, all that was left was my focus on relaxing for him. Without any restraints and completely willing I finally got what I wanted to give to him. Every time we moved positions I would have to recompose myself. I enjoy anal, I very rarely do it as its nearly always a chore for me. Always uncomfortable, I am always dealing with some amount of pain. I winced a couple of times but over all it was pleasurable and the experience has always been about submission for me, for a long time, before I even had begun to understand what submission really meant.

On my hands and knees, his dick now entering me easier every time, I was still focused on being relaxed. I could feel the length going smoothly in and out and every stroke felt incredible. There was no pain, I could tell he was holding back a bit but in my head I was willing him to pound me harder. I didn’t say anything, I just went with it enjoying the completely painless sensation, focusing on my breathing and staying relaxed.

My mind was still in this place when I felt a wave engulf me moving over my skin, all my hairs stood on end. It was like I could feel my pupils open and my hair float. My mind wasn’t focused on breathing anymore, I didn’t have to think about being relaxed, something took over and I had this indescribable sense of my body expanding outside itself as this wave washed over me. My memory of this moment is looking down at myself in the third person from the ceiling. His hands placed on my as he moves in and out. I didn’t stay anything for fear this state of mind would end but I was lucid enough to ride this wave, to stay there floating in euphoria as he fucked me in the arse. It didn’t matter what I was doing, it was now all about this feeling, I could stay there forever.

As he came I felt pain with every throb and trust of his cock. I cried out but it was like hearing someone else in the distance. It felt amazing, this is what it’s for, this moment when he comes in my arse and I can feel every twitch as he fills me up, this is what I had wanted from the moment I walked through his door hours ago. Still in a state of euphoria he slowly withdraws and moves away, I realise he was the only thing holding me in place. My body is like jelly and I slide off the end of the bed onto the floor and lay there in sheer bliss. I don’t know how long I was there for, slowly my senses came back. He was laying face down on the bed, I reached my hand up to his and he held it while I lay there. Just this one little comfort of his hand was like being wrapped in cotton wool and love after the night I had.