Monday, April 28, 2008

First post

I've lived my life in conflict with myself. After much soul-searching, I've turned a corner, and as of today, I'm a different person.  Rather than wrestle with myself and feel ashamed because of my submissive nature, my Mistress has instructed me to create this blog.  Although blogging isn't something I find easy to do, I strive to please my Mistress, so, from behind the internet curtain of anonymity, I give you this, my journey of submission.

I'm a man in my late twenties, living in the midwest USA. I'm married, I have kids, and I have a full-time job. I am a submissive male. It's not some game I play in the bedroom, a kink or fetish. It's me, my personality, my life.

Let me back up...


I grew up in a Christian home, with very traditional values and a patriarchal view of men, women, and their respective roles.  When I hit puberty, I started to become intoxicated be feminine power, and fascinated by thoughts of submission.  Long before I ever saw internet porn, and before I ever even knew what "bondage" was, I was experimenting.

I was probably 12 or 13 years old when I first played with rope.  I was a Boy Scout, so I knew a thing or two about knots.  I had several lengths of nylon rope from my knot-tying education in scouts.  I discovered that I rather liked the feeling of ropes around my wrists and ankles, and the restriction of movement when I lay in bed at night.  This was self-bondage, of course.  No powerful female to put me in my place.  I also remember the terrible shame I felt the next morning.  For years, I figured I was just a pervert.  I longed for a powerful woman to control me.

Nobody told me there were other people out there with similar fetishes, and I had no idea there were other young men, albeit a minority, that felt the same way.

I remember when I was a little bit older, in high school...  I had this teacher, we'll call her Miss T.  Miss T was memorable because she was special.  She was unlike any other teacher I had, because she didn't need this job.  She had money, she had talent, and she could be doing other things, and she didn't mind putting us students in our place.  She was powerful, and she knew it.  She wore boots with heels and glasses with black frames.  To the other kids, she was a bitch.  To me, she was a wet dream...

When I graduated I went to college and met Melissa.  Melissa was special, too.  I loved her instantly.  She was smart, she was talented, she was beautiful, and most of all, she was powerful.  She didn't need me.  At times, she was tender and loving, and other times, she was mean and abusive.  The crazy thing was, to me, it didn't matter.  I loved her either way.  I was drawn to her and intoxicated by her.

Now, don't get me wrong - being in an abusive relationship was no fun.  I hated the way she treated me, but I secretly loved being under her thumb.  For the first time since I was a little kid, I had somebody telling me what to do and enforcing consequences if things weren't done her way.

I admired her attitude.  I loved the fact that she had the power to act out every impulse.  If you were on Mel's shit list, you knew it.  Not me; I'm timid and quiet.  If I have a beef with you, I'll probably never tell you.  

Melissa and I have been married almost ten years now.  Thankfully, the abuse was short-lived.  She mellowed out quite a bit.  You'd think that would make for a happy marriage, but it didn't.  We both struggled with our roles.  I'm the man.  I was supposed to make the decisions, wear the pants, lead the family.  She was supposed to be submissive.  but we both sucked at our respective roles.

Through all of it though, all I really wanted was to devote myself to her, to make her happy, to serve her the way I felt I was created to.  I'd try to please her by giving in and letting her have her way, then irrationally putting my foot down and making demands.  Not surprisingly, this approach was unsuccessful.  We constantly butted heads, and the divide between us only grew.

About a year ago, she told me she wanted a divorce.  I was absolutely crushed.  Miserable though my attempts at appeasing her might have been, I had devoted ten years of my life to one person, at the expense of almost everyone and everything else.  And without her, I felt I had absolutely nothing.

I'm happy to say we've patched things up.  I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say we don't plan on splitting up, and we both know ourselves and what we want much better now.

Over the past few months, I've learned a lot about myself.  I discovered that traditional gender roles imposed by a patriarchal society are just that - imposed.  They aren't my own, they were imposed on my by someone else. I discovered the shame that I felt for not being a "real man" (whatever the hell that means) was holding me back and keeping me from doing what I was meant to do - honor, serve, and please Melissa, the greatest gift I have ever been fortunate enough to receive.

So, I talked to Melissa, and we came to a formal agreement.  No longer will I try to to chump my chest, puff up my masculinity, and prove that I can be as aggressive and dominating as she can.  I'll defer to her, and submit to her control in everything.  We adapted a submissive agreement from Mistress Jenn, and I now live solely to serve Melissa.  I have given up my control.

And to clear up one thing I'm sure you are curious about...  Our agreement governs my sexual conduct.  My submission to my Mistress is sexual, but it's far more than that.  This isn't about sex.  It's about life.  Sex is part of life, but only a part.

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