evolving: 1

I’ve had a brief comment exchange with sister-sub and blogger Helen about how submissives evolve. She and I agree that we submissives do indeed change through our time under a dominant’s rule.

It made me think of some ways I have evolved since I entered the slave life some seven years ago. BTW, this feels like a two-part post…

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I’ve become more docile during my years in slavery, more absorbing and acquiescent. This is not about taming down my personality (more on that in a moment). It is about my internal urgencies about how dominance should happen to me.

When I first entered the slave life under Master Michael, I was full of ideas about how my slavery would/should be. I was an eager beaver, having recently discovered my latent and profoundly deep submissiveness and wanting to explore it in every possible way. What this led to was my topping from the bottom, although Master Michael didn’t tolerate that from me overtly. But during his uses of me, I internally, mentally, psychologically, covertly yearned for his dominance to happen in ways I desired. It was like he had me on a leash but I was racing forward, pulling like an energetic bitch, my leading him from within my own bondage. He sensed it, and this discombobulated our vibe together, undermined his authority, and nearly ruined everything. Thankfully, Master Michael was patient with me, and gradually shaped me into a less obsessive submission to him.

It’s been a continuing change for me, something I’ve evolved into more and more. It’s about standing before a dominant without imposing my own need upon him, being willing to absorb whatever he wishes to do with me. It’s acquiescing to the fact that my dominant doesn’t want to work my personal schematic for his conquest of me. It’s an emptying of my own desires in deference to his.

That said, my becoming more docile and absorbent is not the same as taming my authentic personality. It is not about filing down my unique curves into a smooth lump of bland. My dominants enjoy my attitude and wit. In a way, those sharp edges in me make their conquest all the more enjoyable and satisfying for them.

I remember a time when Master McKenna had me strung up and partly naked in the Great Room, as he is fond of having me. He was in a serious mood. He asked me some question, forgetting I was ballgagged. I chose to speak anyway, or tried to, garbling my words behind the gag. He harrumphed, and unclasped the gag. I said dryly, “You might just use Google Translate. They have a language selection under ‘Ballgag.’” He shook his head at me, grinned, then proceeded to execute my submissive degradation. I have to think my little witty joke reminded him that, while docile, I was a woman with an willful edge, yet ceding her body and being to him. I like to think that gave him more satisfaction in his dominance of me.

This sounds like a contradiction — be docile and show attitude? It’s not. My earlier point about becoming more docile was about letting go of my own inner urges to take charge in my own submissive life, not about taming my interesting curves.

There is in this also a distinction of timing. There are times when it’s good to express your true self, flash your Irish at him, use your words — and times when it’s not so good, when you need to stand there before him quietly in docile acquiescence. You always need to read the room.

I have evolved into this more and more. My dominants see it in me and have remarked about it.

And, I think as I return from my exile into active slavery again, I’ll be all the more inclined to “stand before him” in acquiescence, more deeply ready to absorb my dominant’s wishes.

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I’ve also had to evolve in cultivating my life within my slavery. At the beginning, I expected all of my slave life would be scheduled for me. Let me explain it this way:

The 24/7, live-in D/s slavery is unique even in D/s arrangements. Many practice D/s episodically, times “on” and “off,” which is often necessary given people’s circumstances. But living in slavery around the clock, as I do, is a different reality, especially in terms of the management of time. That is, the idea of living in 24/7 slavery in a routine of never-ending “doing” — constant sessions of D/s action — is simply not possible. There’s a lot of down time, so to speak. Ninety percent of a slavery is “not doing,” which begs the question, what then?

This is obvious, yet it really wasn’t to me starting out. At the beginning, I expected Master Michael to do more with me — more sessions, more events, more experiences. My life would be planned and scheduled by him, for him. I’m afraid I was a bit like the child in a babysitter story — making my dominant do things with me for my own submissive need. I didn’t know what to do with myself when he wasn’t, so to speak, doing me.

I have an indelible image — I think it comes from the French erotica classic, The Story of O — of the woman O kept chained to a slate slab in a dungeon. I don’t know why but I have always found that erotic and appealing. I suppose in my early months I had an idea of that — such that I would be used by Master and then kept somewhere until he used me again. Not that I thought that literally nor that I would really like that, and of course there’s no way one could survive that way. But it reflected my view that my slave life with Master Michael would be always active, that in my every moment, I would be used and perpetually bound in some metaphorical slave way to his life. (You have to understand back then I was a hopelessly romantic-erotic literati.)

Of course, he had a job. He had friends. In short, he had a life. This meant he was not always around to do me. Meanwhile, I had left my life behind, letting go of my real estate career (which I was more than ready to do) and starting my new lifestyle in slavery. I had a slavery but not a life.

To be fair to myself, this is, I think, sometimes a common dissonance in the slave-dom dynamic: a dom maintains a life on the outside while the slave’s life is expected to revolve around him. Even so, I made the mistake of making my dominant my only source of life. I found I didn’t know who I was during the other ninety percent of “not doing” in my slave life.

My evolution in this originally came out of my realizing, and eventually practicing, a slavery of “being.”

Readers of my early blog posts know that back then I wrote a lot about the distinction between being and doing, what I am versus what I do. Those posts were a part of this evolution. I gradually came to know that I was still in a state of submission to him even in the ninety percent of time he was not using me. I did not need to be actively bound to a slate slab in a dungeon to experience my slavery.

Master Michael helped me in this, giving me a few chores he wanted done in very precise ways, keeping me in partial undress when he wasn’t present, and prohibiting me from certain things until he granted permission. While these were “doing” things, sort of, they were also passive things I obediently performed without him. They were not so much about doing my slavery as being in slavery.

It was a mindset of “being.” My 24/7 slavery was not an on-off switch. I was always in submission to him even when he wasn’t around. My slavery is what I am and not just what I do. This is what I wrote about in my earliest posts.

(As an honorable mention, I have to acknowledge someone else. Back then, a relationship formed with another submissive, Lily. We lived not far from each other, and we, let’s just say, grew very close. Lily was a “lifestyle relationship” for me, and besides giving me someone to hang out with during some of my days, she and I could share everything about our submissive lives with each other. She was new to the life, while I had been in it for more than a year. One of my earliest WordPress posts was sort of an “advice letter” to her. I laugh at myself for thinking I could give advice to anyone back then. She helped me through this adjustment from vanilla life into slave life… Lily and I still keep in touch, but our circumstances led us apart, unfortunately. Another story to tell sometime…)

My recent year “in exile” here in PA has been a test of this. I have been for vast stretches of time not actively used as anyone’s slave. Yet, I am still owned and enslaved by Mistress Amanda and Master McKenna. It’s been difficult, depending much on my mindset of what I am and not just what I do.

(More to come…)