I distinctly remember the first time I truly felt submissive.
Not on a physical level, but mentally.
Heart, body, soul.
The first time everything slotted together and I began to feel comfortable with my submission, and what it meant for me.

Sir wasn’t Sir back then, I was still stubbornly resisting deferring to Him as such, still wasn’t ready to give of myself to that degree.

We’d arranged for Him to stay for the weekend, which was a big deal for me at that time because I felt it was something couples did, spending nights together, and I wasn’t sure I wanted that, or rather I didn’t want to get too attached to this man who intrigued and enchanted me because I was so scared of getting hurt. But, I had agreed to it, and despite still having a few misgivings and thoughts of cancelling, the weekend went ahead as planned.

Except for the fact that I got way more than I had bargained for, or was adequately prepared for.

We’d been messaging back and forth during the week prior, and after one particular exchange, I’d been issued with a set of instructions for the day of His arrival. Instructions which, yes, turned me on(massive understatement that one), but captivated my mind on a level which I found both perplexing and thrilling at the same time, a mixture of wonder and nerves which very nearly caused me to turn tail and run, cancel, deny how it made me feel, deny just how much I wanted Him, the whole of Him, not just His cock and the pain with which He indulged me.

The first part of the instruction was easy, or rather easy by comparison…..masturbate every half an hour for a set amount of time but not allow myself to orgasm. I decided, yeah, I can do that, even though it drove me crazy, maybe because it drove me crazy, to not get the ultimate release.
The second part of the instruction, however, had me feeling at odds with myself.
He wanted me to greet Him on my knees, dressed and presented in a certain manner, ready to pleasure Him orally on his arrival.

Now, that last bit, not a problem, I’ll never ever turn that opportunity down! But the kneeling, the presenting of self in that way, there’s a vulnerability in the raw honesty of that that I wasn’t sure I was able(willing?) to show. I was terrified of being so open, terrified of (emotionally) being taken advantage of, and I suppose terrified of handing Him my submission.

I wanted to trust Him, but I didn’t know if I actually dared do it.

The wait for Him to arrive was nothing short of excruciating, mental torture, some of it self imposed, ok, most of it self imposed.
I cursed myself for being so fucking stupid in agreeing to it in the first place, cursed myself for being so eager to please(Him), cursed myself for not cancelling. I just felt ridiculous, that it was just one big joke all at my expense. Seriously, what the fuck did I actually think I was doing?

The moment He walked through the door, my mind was blown.
And yes, it really was instantaneous. I still can’t see Him wearing a suit without being taken right back to that moment, and remember that immediate subspace like state I found myself in.
Maybe it was his aura that sparked the reaction, or the visual stimulus of seeing Him like for the first time that triggered my response.
But when He walked over to me, stroked my face and bent down to kiss me, my defences disappeared.
There was no cacophonous crashing of carefully constructed walls, they simply weren’t there anymore to prop myself up against.
I was presented, exposed, unprotected in front of Him.
It was a pivotal moment for me, and instead of experiencing the much anticipated abject terror at this fact, I felt at peace.
At peace with myself, at peace with Him, but maybe more importantly, at peace for the first time both with and within my submission.