Feeling Submissive

Though we’ve been working on an M/S relationship for several weeks, yesterday afternoon and last night are the first times I’ve felt submissive right down to the core. I think the collar is having a definite effect on my submission. Feeling it heavy around my neck at all times is certainly a reminder of what I am now.

Yesterday afternoon, my husband was getting ready to go into work and as he stood up I reached out and playfully smacked his ass. He looked at me for a moment, and I immediately recoiled into my spot on the bed, pulling the blanket to my chin and studying the pattern on it carefully. “I know you did not just do that.” I looked up at him, trying to make my eyes pleading. He stood and headed toward the closet. “I’ll take care of that later.” Then he turned on his heel and headed back across the room. “No. I’ll take care of that now.” And he opened the toy trunk and started digging for implements. I had to use the bathroom desperately, but had been waiting so I could lie on the bed next to him for a while. “Can I go to the bathroom first?” I asked him. “You have about 30 seconds.” he said, as he closed the trunk empty-handed and glanced around the room. I stood quickly and rushed to the bathroom, anxious the whole time. When I returned to the bedroom, he was standing at the end of the bed, holding the thick, stiff leather belt. As I walked up to him, still wearing nothing but a pair of panties since we had been curled up in bed, he watched me. I searched his face, looking for some sign that he would go easy on me. But, not finding it, I didn’t speak, just kissed him lightly on the lips before bending over the end of the bed. I felt his hand gently brushing the small of my back, ready to push me down in case I stood to argue. I didn’t. It was the first time I didn’t argue a spanking at all, even playfully. He ran his fingers across my back, and then informed me that I would count. He had never made me count before. I nodded, clenching the blanket in my fists, waiting. Thwap! “One.” “LOUDER.” Thwap! “Two!” And so it continued. Seven barely connected, he had lost his grip on the belt. “That didn’t count.” he said, after I’d counted it, as he readjusted the belt in his hands. For some reason, his comment didn’t quite reach my brain. Thwap! “Eight!” between gasps. “I said that one didn’t count.” came his low grumble. “Seven! Seven. Seven.” Thwap! “Eight!” Ten licks, not counting the one that barely connected. Then he was done. He dropped his belt on the bed and I stood and wrapped my arms around his waist, burying my face in his chest. For a moment, he was just my husband again, not trying to be my master, as he asked if I was okay. I nodded my head and smiled up at him, almost shyly, still trying to catch my breath. And then he was my master again, kissing me roughly, pushing me down hard onto the bed on my back, pulling my panties off and plunging his fingers deep inside of me, harder, harder. My back was arched slightly, the muscles in my stomach clenched, my long hair all over the place, as he leaned across me, fingers still working inside of me, and kissed me hard. And then he was across me on the bed, entering me. Too soon, he stood and began to dress for work, leaving me curled on the bed, blanket pulled to my chest, as I watched him. Then he was gone, off to work, with only promises of something to come after he got home.

Later, when he got home, we crawled into bed. We cuddled for a while, and then he propped himself up on the pillows. I laid between his legs to give him oral pleasure. I loved the feeling of his hands tangled in my hair, putting slight pressure on my head whenever I tried to pull away to gulp air. After a few minutes he pulled my head up by my hair. When I was far enough off the bed, he released my hair and grabbed my breasts tight, pulling me by them until I was up on my knees in front of him. He squeezed them and then released and pushed his fingers inside of me. I struggled to keep my balance, but soon he was positioning himself under me, pushing himself inside of me. I began to pump my hips. I leaned closer to him, but he grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled it back, forcing me to sit up. Then he reached up with his other hand and grabbed my collar, pulling it forward and my hair back, forcing me to move only my hips. Soon he let go of my hair and the front of my collar and wrapped the chain around his hand in the back, successfully pulling my head back and keeping it up at the same time. As the chain cut into my airway I could do nothing but focus on moving my hips and taking short, shallow breaths. Soon he let go of the collar completely, settling that hand on the back of my neck to keep my head in position, and closed his other hand over my throat, cutting my air supply off again after just a few gulps of air. A few minutes later he changed position again, pulling the collar down my back, holding it tight with his fingers and pushing against my back with the heel of his hand. This time he held it longer, cutting off my air until I could barely concentrate on breathing in what little air I could get. I started to get dizzy and when he let go of the collar I gulped in air, ending the dizziness. He reached around and grabbed my nipples, pinching them tight between his fingers and pulling them toward him. I gasped and moaned, leaning into his grasp, trying to alleviate the pain, but he pinched tighter, warning me not to slide off of him. He pinched, pulled and twisted my nipples until I screamed out and pulled my breasts away, dropping against his chest, my face buried in his neck, with a few sobs before I got control of myself. Then I carefully positioned myself back on him, sat up, pushed my hair out of my face, and began to pump my hips again. He studied my face, and I could tell he was judging whether I was alright. “I’m fine, I’m okay.” I assured him. He nodded slightly, and then reached up and cupped my breasts in his hands, squeezing them tightly, pulling me toward him by them. “Accept the pain.” he whispered. I nodded and continued to pump against him, biting my lip. He released my breasts and I gasped as the blood flowed freely through them again. He pinched my nipples again, not quite as hard as before. He pulled them to him and bit one, hard, and then the other, as he came inside of me. When he released my nipples and closed his eyes, I collapsed beside him, curled into his side, my head on his chest, smiling contentedly.

I had accepted the pain. Worse pain than he had ever given me before. That afternoon, I had accepted a spanking without so much as a word to try and convince him not to give it. And I had accepted whatever pleasure he wished to give me, and given him the pleasure he wanted from me. For the first time, I felt like I am truly on my way to submission.

But there are still miles to go.