This week, Amanda has been talking with me about “socialization,” by which she means public presentations of me. And more.
Last weekend was full of people, mostly new acquaintances. In every encounter, I was introduced directly as Amanda’s “slave girl,” presented to them while I was collared and leashed. Certainly not my first time for that, but the number of such encounters over a two-day weekend was kind of a lot.
I am now known as a slave by our neighbor friends, our landscaping crew, a couple of visitors last Sunday, which I shall write about in due time, and Dayna, a friend of Amanda’s, a domme herself, whom I had met before, and who grilled me in a certain way about my slavery. I imagine there may have been others, but the abundance of exposures is such that I cannot remember.
Amanda says there will be more of this. She wants to fill the rest of our summer and early fall with people interactions and social experiences. She wants me to be public in my slavery.
As I’ve written before, Amanda’s deepest pleasure as a domme is social — the presentation of her slave in public situations to various people, both friends and strangers.
Certainly, she derives pleasure from my submission when she and I are alone, which has been most of the story during COVID. But her dominance is only truly fulfilled when I am presented to others in various ways.
When I am introduced to others as owned property, Amanda loves seeing their reactions to that, and it’s a thrill for her to watch me emotionally work through the experience of being judged in various ways in those moments. She delights in seeing me stand before a crew of men and watching me being sexually objectified by them. She would love to expose me more to them, and will. She wants eventually to share me more sexually with others — either for them to view or for them to use.
All this is how she is wired as a dominant woman.
I am an introvert by nature, and so being with a lot of people a lot of the time is a challenge to me. It isn’t that I don’t like people, but I am better one-on-one. Being with many people in a short frame of time tends to shut me down and send me inward. I become quiet and passive.
Of course, “quiet“ and “passive” are good traits for a sub-slave. Amanda holds the leash and does the talking, and I remain silent, submissive. People read into my passive demeanor and assume I am a slave who will submit to anything, obey everything. They are not wrong.
Amanda delights in all of this. It is her sexuality. She gets off on my humiliation.
As an introvert, I would prefer to live in the cocoon of our home. In this closed-up world, I am comfortable with everything Amanda does with me and to me. Being made to serve, being stripped and made naked, being bound, being debased in any way, being flogged and whipped, being used for sex — whatever, if with her and in front of just her, I readily if not eagerly submit to my own humiliation.
But I have to accept that, while this much might be sufficient for me, it does not attend to Amanda’s immense dominant need. She wants all of that which we do in the house to happen outside, socially, with others. I have to honor that, to accept my purpose in fulfilling her.
Our neighbors and Blake the handyman and the landscaping crew on Saturdays and more drop-in visitors are people and occasions in which my slavery is extended to the surroundings of the house and our neighborhood. She is trying to extend my exposure zone.
I am not afraid of what is ahead. I know that Amanda will not allow me any danger. Yet it will be something to go through. It will challenge my dignity and submit me to the lusts of others. I will have to find inner resources to face that. In the oddity of what it is to be deeply submissive, I don’t deny my exposure can become a deep pleasure. But it comes at a price — the cost of my own humiliations.