How Mistress K Lost Control

When my wife first gave me those submissive eyes that Master's and Mistress's know all too well. That same look that I had given her more times than I can count over the last 3 years. I knew I had to snatch the opportunity presented.

My wife was getting stressed by her work commitments and every day life. She was feeling anxious about everything including dominating me at home.

It was all so much. How could she handle all the stress without something giving? She couldn't. No one could.

I convinced her that she needed to cede control to me in order to allow me to help quell her stress and anxiety.

She agreed.

This happened very early in December.  Since then she has had a choice. She could either continue submitting to my will or she could lock that chastity cage on my cock and take charge back. I realize it was an incredible risk because who knows how sadistic she might have gotten after tasting the other side of the whip. I could have wound up without an orgasm for over a year I imagine.

Every week the choice was the same. She choose to submit.

One day I told her that every week was not working for me. It was simply too short. I preferred every two weeks. She agreed.

That also changed today.

Before I left for work I explained to K that while she had certainly been submissive to my will I still did not have control. Every time she was able to make a decision regarding submitting to me or not was eroding the trust I was building. How could I be the Master and her the slave if she could simply stop things at any point?

This was much different than having a talk about the direction of things, using a safeword, or changing intensity. Her decision was submission or Dominance.

When I came home I asked if she had made her bi-weekly decision. I expected her to tell me to continue for two weeks with a reasoning/explanation as to why she could not give up her grasp on control and trust me.

Today we did away with her bi-weekly decision at her request.

Now the power is mine. I must remain focused and confident for her. She needs my loving yet stern hand to guide her into a better place.

She says she still feels awkward to be called my 'slave' because she is not doing things to please me she is more interested in fixing herself.

Yet with minimal enforcement she has followed my rules even while both of us suffered from the Flu(thankfully on different weeks!)

As I explained to her. I am not doing this for my pleasure. That is a side benefit to me. I am doing this for her benefit.

I know from my own experience when I was the slave that one must be broken down before they can be built back up stronger and better.

This is step 1 of the breaking of Mistress slave K.

Stay tuned for more.

Community

Before sitting down to write this post I cropped my slave. I bent him over the bed in his light pink panties and I smacked his ass hard and fast without counting. I didn’t crop him because he needed to be punished. I cropped him because I was anxious. I cropped him to relieve my own tension. I cropped him because I can, and because he reminded me that I can.

As I cropped my slave, my reasons for starting this blog multiplied exponentially in my mind. Five days ago I’d barely ever considered the extent of the online femdom community. I figured we would be lucky if anyone at all ever read my posts. I had read books of encouraging advice about becoming a Mistress, but I never imagined actually personally interacting with other women like me or other couples like us.

Suddenly I have followers. People literally around the world have read about my intimate relationship with my husband. It seems like that should scare me. My sense of self-worth as a wife, as a Mistress, and as a writer is now tied to what I’ve posted here. People will have expectations of me, will be disappointed in some of my thoughts and feelings, in what I do and do not write or tweet or comment about. More importantly, my husband is now interacting with this community as he has never done before, and I am seeing a different side of him. We have always moved slowly, growing into our roles of Domme and sub at my pace. Now he has nameless faces encouraging him, cheering him, and handing him suggestions and photos and links.

This is a bit overwhelming, but my excitement outweighs my nerves. As I channeled all my worry into cropping my sissy slave, I realized: I would write about this cropping. And people would understand it. With complete nonchalance and approval they would accept that my husband and I both desired that little exchange of pain—something I still struggle with. Many of them would also empathize with my conflicted feelings. They might comment and tell me that they’d been through the same thing as novice Mistresses, or that they still feel that way now, or that they (as slaves themselves) can reassure me that my slave enjoys it as much as he claims.

In any case, this blog is clearly accomplishing one of its primary goals already: to help us explore this facet of our relationship more deeply. To keep him from bombarding me with new ideas too quickly, I have ordered my slave to keep a notebook of thoughts and desires inspired by his online interactions. I can look at them at leisure when I’m ready and indulge his desires in my own time. I have no doubt we’ll both be emboldened to try new things on a regular basis. Furthermore, I will feel more fulfilled as an individual using my writing talent in an honest and passionate medium; my slave will have an outlet and a support community for the desires he’s always experienced alone; and we will learn to trust each other more implicitly than ever.

I thank you, very sincerely, for reading and for sharing.

Mistress K

Her Pleasure

Let’s backtrack a little. I want to talk about chastity and orgasm control.

The first BDSM concept my husband introduced, besides your generically kinky light bondage, was chastity. I’m simply a very open-minded person, so I wasn’t automatically put off by the idea, but I certainly didn’t fully understand it at first either. We were in a long-distance relationship at the time, and I suppose I thought it was just a good way to make the lack of sexual contact seem purposeful and fun.

A few years later, denying my slave orgasm is one of my favorite ways to get off.

Sometimes we use a cage and lock up my property. Other times I take it on faith that he’ll only jerk off at my command. (Sometimes that strategy results in punishment.) We haven’t invested in a really good, custom-fitted cock cage yet, so I don’t want to make him wear one all the time. Regardless, it’s the mindset that’s important. It’s the mindset that has helped me recover my sexual desire.

I’m a pretty stressed-out person. I don’t know about you, but when I’m stressed out I have a hard time wanting sex. Even if my body is “arousable” (as my slave calls it), my mind often can’t be turned off enough to enjoy. In the past this led to some feelings of guilt and pressure as I worried about not being able to give my husband sexual release when he wants it—and he is a young man in the prime years of male sexuality, frequently stressed out himself and looking for relief. I would end up unable to let go, stopping him in the middle of foreplay, and feeling like I’d failed. This seemed particularly tragic because we both knew I was a highly sexual person. Unlike many women (or so I’ve been told), I instinctively learned to masturbate before anyone hinted to me that it might be taboo, and throughout my teen years I frequently reached orgasm every day. And they were good orgasms, too. I pleasured myself well and often. Why was that unabashed desire eluding me now?

With orgasm denial, the weight of expectations is lifted.

If my slave doesn’t cum, that’s fine.

If my slave spends half an hour playing with my nipples and licking my pussy, grinding his hard, leaking cock against the sheets, and never even enters me, that’s fine. In fact, he would consider it an unexpected privilege to do so. I don’t have to wonder whether I’m quite wet enough to take him comfortably. I don’t have to worry that pausing to switch positions will kill the momentum and my orgasm won’t be as great after all that build-up. I don’t have to worry that my slave (who is very out of shape and losing weight at my command—but that’s another story) will get a cramp in his abdomen and have to stop thrusting before he can cum, and we’ll both end up frustrated.

In erotic fiction, sex is always fabulous; in the real world, these are all valid concerns. But if my slave expects no orgasm, it doesn’t matter! I can revel in my approaching orgasm, feeling all my muscles tightening, feeling the heat start to concentrate in my clit, feeling the slippery warmth of his hand and tongue against my wet flesh, and I don’t have to wonder anything, worry anything, gauge anything….I just have to enjoy the all-consuming climax that comes from focusing on nothing at all except my own body and its pleasure.

Watching my slave squirm against me, looking up at me with big pleading eyes, whimpering in wordless desperation? That gives me no guilt. I feel no pressure. I am sated.

I’ll worry about him tomorrow.

Maybe.

Until tomorrow, then.

Mistress K