The First Time – Part II

The First Time – Part II

After our first forays together into this world of submission and Dominance, I began to feel a little ill at ease with how much of myself I would have to give up in order to be ‘a sub’.  I loved the idea of answering to someone, of being someone’s, but the experiences I had had so far, however freeing on one level, also began to make me feel a little caged in.

It occurred to me that the classic idea of a submissive i.e at her masters feet, was fine for occasions, and in fact the further down the line we get, the more I willingly need to do this.,. but in those first couple of weeks it was too much commanded loyalty for my previously independent mind to cope with.  I had genuinely believed it was what I wanted, and it was in no way him pushing me into it.  I had enjoyed being a submissive to him, but now I began to think ‘where was the middle ground?’

I am a mother.

I am a nurturer by nature…I need to protect and look after and care for and love and adore the man I am with, and despite having never been able to entirely fulfill these needs with previous lovers, the desire to do all these things and more with Mr A was overwhelming me and I could see in him, even if he couldn’t see it himself, that he needed more than to solely dominate me and be ‘Master’.  He needed taking care of – not by his sub from her knees, but by the woman who could stand side by side with him and take on life’s ups and downs with him, and perhaps even for him, however briefly, if things got too much.

I knew that spanking was a release for us both, but sometimes you need more than that kind of violent physical escape.  

As any mother or woman knows, (and men too if they allow themselves to acknowledge it) nothing says more than a gentle touch – a hug, a stroke, a kiss on the forehead – and as his submissive, I didn’t know how these gentler, caring actions would come across to him as my Dom.  In my mind, such affections were reserved for ‘vanilla’ relationships…

but they were things I so craved to do for him and with him.

 One evening I got my opportunity to lay out these new options.  I didn’t demand it, or even ask for it…I simply sat on the sofa and whether he knew what I was hoping for or not, he lay his head down on my lap without question and I stroked his hair for the first time.  I loved it; being given the opportunity to just chat openly with him as myself as opposed to sub, and being able to express my natural caring nature with him.

I still didn’t know whether he was being a Dominant accepting the loving caresses of his submissive, or if he was simply a man enjoying the touch of a woman, and that unsettled me.

On the start of this journey, I found that I never felt his equal when I reverted to sub – I loved her, and I enjoyed her personality, but I still didn’t know how to be with him as her, except in a sexual way, when the animal within just took over and there was no gender/equality politics warring on in my mind.  After years of game playing with men, I couldn’t handle more of the same – hiding my feeling, keeping myself at a distance emotionally for fear of being hurt…again!

So sub opened up a side of myself which I had locked down long ago. 

My vulnerable side, which needed protecting, but to start with this made me feel off balance and utterly raw and unprotected.  He could hurt me.  But for all this intense vulnerability, she made me realise that I needed someone I could entirely be myself with…the good, the sub and the slutty; and how could I expect anyone to love all of me if I only showed them the well battered front cover?

  We opened up to each other that night in a totally innocent, ‘normal’ way – just talking about ourselves and our families, all while he lay there, and a briefly and happily forgot about the situation.  He was, to me, just a devastatingly handsome man taking an interest in me, but still, whose desire to be with me I couldn’t quite understand.  (Years of negative relationships had led me to believe that I was never quite good enough.  I see now in hindsight that with my dormant, but very much real, submissive tendencies, I was trained repeatedly, in a variety of damaging, devastating and confusing ways, to believe that I was not worthy of true and complete acceptance, real love, honesty, loyalty or respect.  Only now am I seeing how wrong those men were.)

 We touched on the prospect of venturing beyond the s/D only lifestyle which we had started out on.

 I took a breath and felt a new chapter starting.



Liebster Award For The True Submissive

Liebster Award For The True Submissive



His Beloved Submissive (click here to check out her great blog) nominated me for the Liebster blog award. The Liebster Blog Award is given to up and coming bloggers who have less than 200 followers. “Liebster” is German for “favourite”. 

 To accept the award,there are some rules to follow

  • When you receive the award, you must post 11 random facts about yourself and answer the 11 questions asked by the person who nominated you.
  • Pass the award onto 11 other blogs (while making sure you notify the blogger that you nominated them!)
  • You write up 11 NEW questions directed towards your nominees.
  • You are not allowed to nominate the blog who nominated YOUR own blog!
  • You paste the award picture into your blog. (You can google the image, there are plenty of them!)

True Submissive’s Random Facts

My middle name is Lucy

I was 24 when I had my little boy, Milo.

I’m a trained teacher of 2 to 5 year olds.

I have 80 pairs of shoooooooes!

I’m a single mama

I’m a burlesque dancer and teacher.

I’m 6ft tall!

My Dom is younger than me.

My family tree goes back to Saxon royalty.

I love 1950’s music.

My favourite film is Tangled and my favourite TV show is 24.


The rules state that you answer the 11 questions asked of you by the Blogger who gave you this award. 

Here are the questions and my answers to His Beloved Submissive – Big Thank You To You!!:

Questions & Answers

1.What do you think is your greatest accomplishment so far?

Having my son who is 2 and a half, and accepting and opening myself up to a lifestyle I can finally be at peace with. 

2. What do you still want to accomplish?

Succeed with my Burlesque Dancing School, Glitter Box Burlesque, and as a solo performer, Glamour L’Amour

3. What was your favorite toy as a child?

My soft bunny, Hoppity

4. You can be a Disney villain for one day, which one and why?

The evil mum from Tangled – she is pretty and what a voice!

5. What kind of vehicle do you drive?

A Honda

6. What are you afraid to try?

A rollercoaster!!

7.  Are you messy or a neat freak?

Queen of the Mess – then I have a big tidy up and start all over again.

8. What has been your favorite vacation?

Holidays to Majorca as I was growing up – I had a lot of good times between the ages 15 and 18 over there every summer.

9. Coffee or tea?


10. What was the best gift you were ever given?

My son (and my Louis Vuitton bracelet!)

11. If you found out you were having a child, what would you name it?

Another one?! Not right now – but one day I hope. A girl would be Evelyn Dove and a boy would be Jacob Jack


I’m then supposed to nominate some blogs for this and leave my list of questions for these bloggers.

Now My Questions for You!

1.What’s your shoe size?

2. What did you want to be when you were a child?

3. When did you discover your ‘Kink’ preference?

4. What is your most treasured possession?

5. If you could go back in time what era what you go back to?

6. Who is your idol/inspiration?

7.  What’s your favourite dance move?

8. What is your favourite TV program?

9. Do you have any regular beauty/up keep treatments and if so, which ones?

10. If you could be anyone, dead or alive, who would you be?

11. Are you happy?

Thanks again to the lovely His Beloved Submissive…I look forward to my nominated blog authors’ answers. 


Why Does My Dominant Punish Me?

Why Does My Dominant Punish Me?


My assignment whilst he was away that weekend.


To be completed by reading it out to him 3 times, over his knee, in my school girl outfit; white cotton panties pulled up between my bottom cheeks, being spanked.



“Why Does My Dominant Punish me?

-My Dominant punishes me to help me be the best sub I can be to him.  He does it to train/re-train me, in a way which is correct, or, desirable to him.

-Punishment helps me to develop to the highest potential and to achieve my Dom’s high standards for me.

 The Benefits to me?

-Pleasing my Dominant means he will please me in return, so by learning through training and/or punishment we will both benefit.

-Through punishment and aftercare, I can learn to trust and respect my Dominant more and more and vice versa.

-My Dominant will give me experiences and pleasure I have not had before.

 Methods to be used?

-1 – Caning (or the least pleasurable method to the sub)

2- Withdrawal of Dominant and sub duties for a set period of time.

3 – Time out sessions – e.g tied and holding a coin to a wall with my nose.


What would happen without punishment?

-I would not learn best, how to please my Dominant and as a result no pleasure would be given to me.

-Without pleasure/punishment, no closeness or intimacy could develop correctly, and as such the bond and trust would not be there.

-The pleasure could not be experienced without the pain”


I see naivety and inexperience in those words now – but I keep it. 

It reminds me of how we, (and I), started out on this path. 


The School Scene

The School Scene

“I want you in an outfit that makes you feel like a naughty little school girl who is to be punished by her headmaster” the text read. 

My heart leapt into my throat as I took in this information.  The next step down into this new world I had stumbled upon.  I pulled out my black skirt, white cardigan and knee high white socks…three perfectly acceptable items when separate, but put together they became my punishment garb.   I eagerly spent the day lost in fantasies and by the time evening came round my heart was again pounding albeit a little less vigorously with nerves than the first time.

I quietly put on my outfit, complete with the white cotton panties and bra I had bought especially for the occasion under the direction of “Nothing lacy”.   In my head I felt at peace – lifes’ internal monologue had stopped and I was looking forward to seeing him again and for the evening’s events, whatever they may be, to get under way.  Somehow, all the worries which plague me daily…work, money, time keeping and getting things done…just melted away.

I was left in a heightened state of calm.

I had just tied my laces when the bell went.  Opening the door, he looked at me and a brief smile caught his lips.  My nerves kicked in – he meant business.  After dropping off his bag in my room he got a pad and pen and wrote a single line at the top of the first page:

“I am a naughty little girl and deserve to be punished.”

“Write that out, three sides of A4.”  I could feel a mild internal struggle going on between Miss Independent and Sub at this request.  It took so long to do lines!  But she had played Queen for far too long while I squirreled away all my vulnerabilities, my insecurities, and my need to be cared for and protected, whilst under her rule.  It’s about time another side of me has a turn to lead.

Sub sat gleefully at the table, straight backed, ankles crossed, and wrote.

The words spun in my head and I began to believe them, making my own sexual tension heighten as the word ‘punished’ swirled in my mind over and over. I could feel his eyes on me from the sofa where he was reading the paper, occasionally glancing up at me for just a moment and sometimes stopping reading for long swathes of time and just watching.  I loved it.  I felt under his power, which is somewhere I had not allowed myself to be for anyone for a long time, for fear of rejection and also, frankly, because I didn’t want to be.   Something in him drew this quieter side within me out though.  I had been the gobby princesses, the bratty, demanding child…but the quiet sub?

She had been ignored, perhaps forever now I come to think of it and she delighted in getting some of his undivided, Dominant attention.


When I had finished I placed the pen down and sat quietly.  He asked me to come over and sit on his knee while he looked through my work.  Of course I obliged.  Once approved, he kissed me and whispered to me “Good girl”.  Now I’m not embarrassed to say that spanking was swiftly to become my reward as well as my punishment, depending on the way in which it was delivered.  He gestured me to bend over his knee and began, as he had the night before, in doting on my backside.  Touching the light bruises which lingered from our first session, stroking the skin up and down my legs, quietly adoring his new sub.

I drifted off into a happy stupor before sinking deeper as his hand slapped against my skin over and over.  Bliss. 

The freedom in my mind which this afforded was like nothing before – I quickly realised I could naturally zone out almost instantly and just wallow in this pleasurable sense of being neither here nor there.  It wasn’t until his fingers followed the same path as the day before that my mind entered a different plane altogether and intense physical pleasure overtook the peace of my rewarded spanking.  Once he had had his fill, and mine, he demanded me on to my knees and looked down on me with his intense gaze which had so captured my mind from the second I saw those eyes appear from behind the Raybans…a mere 6 days ago was that?!  I considered the crazy speed at which we were moving  and then realised that, against all my instincts, I didn’t care. I just wanted to suck his cock. With his hands in my hair, that is what I did.  I reveled in his amusement at my playfully, infuriated reaction when he would tug my hair back and tease me by stroking himself right before my frustrated eyes, before pushing my open mouth back down again.

Listening to him orgasm because of me is one of my favourite sounds, and watching and feeling and tasting him simultaneously makes for one very happy little sub.

We did the whole thing again that evening…I’m genuinely sure I have never been as turned on in my life.  His need to Dominate was drawing on something animalistic and instinctive inside me which had been locked away and hidden forever.

Lucky him…Lucky me.



The First Paddling

The First Paddling

I had to work myself up to this.  I must admit…I was a little apprehensive about the heavy, solid, wooden paddle resting by my bed waiting for my backside.

 I got myself into the right headspace to deal with the pain which I knew would soon be coming my way – although I trusted that as it was my first time with such an implement he would go easy – as he had with my first real spanking session.  I recalled how I longed for more spanks on my reddening derriere after that, so perhaps this would be the same?

 I sat in my submissive position quietly for the ten minutes before he arrived, silencing my thoughts and allowing sub to come forward and take over.  She was so ready for this…but other aspects of my being were less prepared and I felt my legs weaken a little as I stood up to let him in.  I passed it off in my head as my just feeling a little weak from the kneeling position I had been in…but it’s hard to fool your own mind.

 As before, he came straight in and into my room which was darkened except for a lamp on the bedside which was dimmed down sensually by two feathers around the bulb.  He instructed I kneel while he hung up his suit and got out the tie, which was to be my binding that evening.

 I knew why I had been instructed to buy the paddle.  I knew what was coming – and the lines I was instructed to write 100 times said it all:

“I must obey my dominant in public.”

 Before he went away I had walked away from him late at night on our way home.  I had been upset by something he said and snatched my hand away and walked. In the haze of wine I had forgotten my place – I had forgotten who he was to me and what I was to him.  Precious.  Something to be protected, and by walking away in the dead of night, and then refusing to return to him meant

I had set myself up for a tougher punishment.


He instructed me to lay on the bed, face down with a pillow lifting up my backside.  With my wrists being bound behind my back for the first time as a sub, I felt my mind shift and deepen as the sub zone kicked in.

I relaxed in to the soft mattress and allowed myself to just let go. 

The next thing I felt was something wrap my head and my vision was gone.  The blindfold was something else new and only heightened every single sweet sensation of his fingers down my back and his hands rubbing my bottom before starting a spanking warm up.  A warm up I was very grateful for.


Before I zoned out entirely and the bliss of spanking overtook I felt him move away and heard him lift the paddle brush up.  The next thing I felt in my bound and blindfolded state of high adrenalin and sensation was the smooth , flat brush head stroke across my skin…before it lifted and smacked down.  The sting was sweet and welcome.  The same on the other cheek.  Beautiful release and pain.  I took a deep breath and found myself eager for the next contact…5 more on each cheek.

He was going easy – I could tell, but after the full 6 on each side he instructed:

“I want you to count the final ten and thank me for each one”.

 He began…”One, Thank you Sir…Two, Thank you Sir, Three, Thank you Sir…”


So bitter sweet…so sensual and sexy and seductive and…by the final one I was writhing in pain as the paddle hit my reddened, hot skin but the second it was done I felt a new sensation. One of my 6 inch vibrator venturing its way between my butt cheeks and down to my now wet, warm pussy where he played for a moment before positioning it inside, kissing my forehead and leaving me.

Bound…alone…sore…wet…no way of knowing what time was passing.

 I lay there, my thoughts buzzing and quietening down, then vibrating through my mind again before silencing…the bullet between my thighs throbbing and making me try to push against it, eager for the pleasure to pulse against my g spot.

He returned after perhaps ten or fifteen minutes.  By then I was desperate.  He unbound me and allowed me free.  I felt deflated…was that it? The grand finale of my first paddling?  Of course not.

He allowed me into the kitchen where he was cooking dinner for us.  He commanded me to face the wall and wait instruction.  My mind was reeling – I was torn between demanding his sexual attention as my old self would and enjoying the sensation of freedom which submission afforded me.

The command to lean against the fridge, naked bottom out and head resting on clasped hands was still of little interest to my over charged, turned on mind.

I needed him to touch me in some way.  


By that point, I was so sensitive that even a gentle caress would have sufficed…I needed my dom’s attention.  His hand trailing up my thigh and touching my clit did the job.  He spread my thighs with his fingers’ gentle, silent commanding push and finally…blissfully, he was inside me and pushing again the spot which caused gorgeous waves of much needed, desperate pleasure.

My moans of heaven were swiftly silenced when he stepped away, taking with him those dedicated, attentive, sensual, talented fingers which replaced their job of pleasuring me with stirring dinner! Left to groan quietly in defeat and desolation at the loss, he repeated this process of bringing me to the absolute edge of heaven around 6 or 7 times.  By then, sub was in full control and thriving.  My body had relaxed to the point that I was directing my backside toward him in the hope of a touch and when I was rewarded I found myself, carelessly grinding on his hand desperate for release.

Finally I was given what I so badly, painfully needed… 

That night I became very well acquainted with my fridge.


The First Parting

The First Parting

He went home that first weekend – something I adore about him.  His need for routine and his love for his family.  He has had his car fixed at the same place for years and he cannot take it anywhere else.  Same with his haircuts.  He has a barbor back home who cuts his hair as he likes it – he won’t go elsewhere.  This old school habit of living by what you know to be the best is wonderful, but it means that for the first few weekends of our existence together he left me to deal with his car. 


That first weekend was hard but we made it work.  We were still very much exploring the sub/Dom lifestyle route.  Whilst watching a film with a friend on that first night, he called me with the command to go into the bathroom, take down my panties and play with my clit while he counted down from 20.  He then called 15 minutes later and repeated the process.  By this time it was midnight and I text to say goodnight.  He called me, only this time he talked me through all those things which I love him doing to me and all the nasty, delicious things he wanted to do with me when he got home before starting my countdown from 25, interspersed with “Naughty girl” and “Bad sub”…so wet.

‘3…2…1’ couldn’t come fast enough. 


The next day he sent me into town with instructions to buy a wooden handled body brush from the Body Shop.  My mind was mystified until I saw the image he sent me.  Its long, thin, heavy wooden handle and nice round firm head made this one paddle brush I did really, really did not want to get on the wrong side of.  As I walked into the busy town, talking to him on the phone I found myself feeling embarrassed at using the term ‘Sir’.  I felt my cheeks flushing as passersby overheard me and I stopped saying it.  He asked if I was self conscious of calling him that in public, and when I replied yes, he broke into a sex filled tirade of filth, describing what he was going to do with me, how and when and where and every little details of how it would feel – before declaring he was walking through town himself and feeling incredibly turned on, not just at the images he had created, but at my discomfort at revealing myself as being a new little sub in public.  I stopped for a while and listened intently to his words feeling the flush spread and becoming aware of the zoned out expression of lust on my face being obviously apparent to the vanilla public around me.  If only they knew the sordid truth going on down my phone…how I wish they did know.  As we ended the call, I replied “Bye Sir” a little more confidently, having been built up to feel proud of my new status as sub. Who cares what the world thinks.

I am proud to be his. 


I went around a few shops before starting to feel quite dizzy and tired and ill.  I bought lunch and sat down for ten minutes.  I text him and told him and an urgent and worried reply quickly followed, telling me to eat lunch, drink plenty and take care of myself.  I spotted my mum in the crowd and replied, “It’s ok, I have bumped into my mum…she’ll look after me now”.  His reply made my heart jump: “I don’t like that someone else is taking are of you…they can’t do it as well as me.  It’s made me feel odd, but I know that is not what you meant.  It’s my own issue”.  His absolute confidence that he could take better care of me at that moment than my own mother made one of the first stitches around my well sealed, healing heart snap and a tiny shred of trust flicker in.   He cares, I thought. 

Trust is a dangerous game I had learnt though.  We’ll see.

I carried on with my duty and bought the paddle brush.  A most attractive girl served me, and knowing what that paddle was to be used for as she placed it into the bag for me made me shiver a little inside.  A lower tension released and I felt myself get just a little bit wet in reaction to her pretty face and my handing over money for my own punishment.  This was not aided by his own reaction to my tale: “She knows what a bad little sub you have been and was looking at you thinking,  ‘this poor little sub is to be punished later’”. 

At that moment, I almost wished I could ask her along as an audience! 

That night I had an assignment.  To write about forms of punishment – from the cane  and crop to the paddle and the hand.  The differences, the histories, the results of such punishments.  Then he asked me to number them in levels  – 1 being the worst offence, to 3 being a mild misdemeanor.  My emailed response was met with a positive reaction before another assignment arrived to research aftercare options.  I enjoyed that – I loved the idea of being stroked with a luxurious cream on my hot, sore backside knowing that my punishment had been dealt with and I was back on an even keel.  A warm bath filled with soothing oils to keep the skin soft also appealed, as did having my hair washed, being gently dried after, and put to bed with a story.  Feeling safe and secure meant the world to me having been made to feel anything but for years.  I loved the idea of punishment, but the need and absolute requirement for love afterwards could not be ignored.  Inexperienced in this I may have been, but natural human and sub instincts know what they require to be mentally healthy.  I need affection and adoration.  I made this clear in my list of favorite aftercare ideas. 

 He sent me photo of himself.  Just his head and bare shoulders and it may sound silly but even through a photo I could see that look he gives me when he demands me to submit.  He had told me once that he knows exactly when I am ready to submit because my eyes change.  I feel it when it happens…that beautiful peace comes over me, I feel my head fall back ever so slightly and my entire body let go, ready to be used and loved, and punished and adored.  My worries and insecurities leave me at that moment and I am entirely his. 


I wanted him then…just one more sleep and I’d be in his arms,

and at the receiving end of that paddle.