Confessions of a Submissive: How Did I Get Here?

wow. How did I get here? To the bottom of my secret garden, down and around the winding path, past the pond and behind the bushes, hidden from everyone I’d ever met, until now?

It’s a long story, a true journey of discovery, helped along the way with a growing sense of certainty and more than a few deep breaths.

I was raised, like many women, to believe that sex was a private thing, something that happened between a man and a woman during marriage, definitely not before and definitely not to be enjoyed. A perfunctory arrangement of the marriage vow, if you will. And boy, was that always boring!

Having followed the expected path to adulthood, I married at twenty-one, still innocent in matters of the flesh, except for the occasional kiss, hug, and pat on the hand if things seemed to be going too far.

Kevin was a great guy in many ways, considerate and caring, a good provider. We came from similar backgrounds, shared traditional family values ​​and views on marriage. But it was clear, even on our wedding night, that the great depth of physical passion that he expected was never going to be. Kev was a simple, roll-on roll-off, kiss-on-the-cheek, dream kind of guy. He was doomed to a life of unfulfilled sexual desire, or so he thought.

Although I had always been taught that ‘nice girls don’t do it’, that didn’t stop my fertile imagination from fantasizing about all sorts of sexually lurid ideas from my teenage years. They had started, naively, around the age of thirteen, concentrating mainly on the legendary tall, dark, handsome stranger who picked me up and fell on me, much to my feigned protests and secret excitement. I didn’t have much material to feed my curious mind at the time, but my fantasies soon branched out when I discovered my brother’s porn magazines when he was snooping around his room one day, curious what he was doing behind closed doors.

Well, all I can say is that on Saturday morning I discovered that his hiding place was the beginning of my lifelong fascination with sexually explicit images and the early flowering of the sexual being that I would become.

When I married Kevin, I had a huge catalog of sordid fantasies in my head that I could turn to any time I wanted. Before I left home he used to regularly satiate me when everyone was out or had gone to bed, opening my mind to more and more exciting scenarios. When I first found out about the sadomasochistic scene, through a TV show I wasn’t supposed to watch while my parents were at a party, I was so turned on that I had to run to my room the moment the show ended.

I couldn’t bring myself to tell Kevin any of this. He was locked away in my secret world of fantasy and I knew Kev would be horrified if I told him even a little bit of what was going on in my head. My God, he wouldn’t even do it with the lights on! I managed to fulfill marital duty on Sunday mornings once a week by disappearing into my secret garden. And, it seemed like the more I got bored, the more I advanced in my fantasies.

When I turned twenty-five, I admitted that it was starting to bother me. The fantasies I used now were dominated by full-blown sadomasochistic scenes. Although I occasionally imagined myself as the dominant one, I was usually the dominated one, the submissive one. Despite my upbringing that dictated the subordinate role of a woman, I was not so enamored with my subconscious desire to be so submissive and controlled by a man. Kev was the provider, but I was the one who ran the show, like a lot of other women, I guess. Meanwhile, as the years passed, Kev still had no idea of ​​my secret self and I tried to ignore the feeling that he was living a lie.

It was when Larry came into my life that everything changed. It was a classic meeting; I dropped the groceries loading them into the car one day and he had just gotten out of his car in the parking lot next to mine. He came to help and that was it, we just clicked. Little did I know what that meeting would bring! By the time we load our bags into the trunk, we agree to meet for coffee, exchanging numbers. That twinkle in her eyes when we said our goodbyes was all it took to push aside any thoughts of guilt.

Coffee with Larry soon became a regular thing. He certainly wasn’t shy about talking about everything under the sun and had me mesmerized with stories of his exploits. It was so easy for me to talk to him that when the conversation turned to our sexual experiences, on our third date, I was surprised to hear myself beginning to open up the dark secrets of my mind. It was just a little bit at first, but Larry was really encouraging and understanding. He assured me that there was nothing wrong with feeling the way I did, that he could enjoy being sexually submissive if he wanted to without having to be controlled in other areas of my life.

Soon, Larry was telling me about a whole alternative scene that existed, and his sexual pleasure in acting as a master in a sub-dom relationship. He talked about it so casually that it was as if he was describing something more ordinary, like interior design, which in a way I guess he was! Inside, I was alive and bubbling, my already expansive imagination soaring to new heights, fueled by Larry. He had no idea how he was going to keep all of this inside, and he really didn’t want to. Larry realized this, of course, and, looking back, I can see that during those first coffee meetings he had already begun to assume the role he so longed for, allowing him to lead me to where we are now.

Never before had he been so weak to temptation. You hear people say ‘I just couldn’t help it’ and you probably, like me, think that people who give up are weak and just make excuses. But really, I couldn’t help it, it was like becoming whole, whole, the real me.

Quick coffee turned into leisurely lunches, and lunch turned into entire afternoons in motels, where Larry met me in my secret garden. He had not in the least resisted his suggestion of making me a slave to his master. In a few months I had fulfilled every one of my fantasies and some of Larry’s.

During those months poor Kev didn’t suspect a thing. I felt bad? Yes, actually I did. He was a decent man and he knew it would hurt her to know what he had been doing. But, there was no turning back for me. He couldn’t see it, but I had changed. Sure, he still fulfilled my marital duties, but he lived for my time with Larry. As time passed, he longed to get our exploits out of the motel. I loved Larry all the time. In a funny way, you could say that while the shackles of my marriage to Kev had been suffocating, I was actively looking to get some new ones, but this time leather-bound!

Inevitably, the afternoon’s fun with Larry took a more serious turn. She had gotten to the point where it wasn’t enough anymore and she couldn’t face the thought of a life with Kev and wild afternoons with Larry. Everything came to a head one day. Larry realized that he wasn’t my usual self and eventually he pulled it out of me. That turned out to be the second best thing I did, the first being leaving the groceries in the parking lot that day. After I confessed that I wanted to leave Kev for him, Larry told me that he had just been waiting for me to get to this point. Even though he’s a fantastic teacher, he wouldn’t force me to do something I didn’t want to do.

I was ecstatic. We immediately made plans to take our relationship to the next level. She would have to leave Kev, of course, and Larry would also have to move out of Kev’s marital home. Interestingly, neither of us felt too guilty, knowing that we had formed such a strong bond that we had no choice. In fact, we were so excited that as we were talking about telling our partners about our plans, we suddenly realized that the conversation had somehow turned into planning the dungeon we were going to build together in our new home.

That was seven years ago. When it came down to it, Kev took it pretty well, all things considered. I didn’t tell him the exact truth about why he was leaving, he just wouldn’t have understood. How can you tell someone that you are leaving him to be someone else’s sex slave?

Larry and I are still together and truly have the most perfect relationship I could wish for. To others we seem like a normal couple; we share responsibilities and tasks and are equal in most aspects of our daily lives. But, when we close the door on the world, we become who we really are and I find it just as exciting now as it was then. We even built that dungeon we talked about all those years before, sometimes inviting friends we met through the scene. Mostly though, it’s just me and my teacher, taking us to places we have to go, somewhere I can’t return from. Do I have a problem being submissive? Oh no. I wouldn’t trade those leather ties for the world!