My blog is new .......I have started to blog. A new effort, I hope I will not bore you.
My last blog was titled Lace which speaks to the submissive side of D/s . Today I wish to honor the Steel, and you guessed right it is/was my Dom.
A very important part of my life, without whom,I could not be striving to become .... a slave.
Since falling into the lifestyle and I mean falling, I have craved, desired, feared but above all been happy through it all. And I was lucky enough to meet the steel to my lace, (a play on Ying and yang).
In this time I have negotiated, begged and eventually pleaded my way through tasks and punishments only to be met by a very determined Master, whom I have never understood.
He has had his plans and goals , he was always thinking and planning, and just when I thought I understood him , his direction would change. It made me feel like a small child skipping and chatting behind him as he takes us on this great journey.
Me, always aware of my needs, but unaware of his. I knew he had plans, he always surprised me.
So let's do this let's start this journey. But first it is important that I explain who I am, and why I’m here. It’s a a journey which needs to be expressed in detail for you to understand why a woman of my age and abilities has found it necessary to join the world of BDSM.
My name is now cynamyn and this is how I sign all documents. I used to use a capital in my name and add my last name. I no longer have that privilege, this is how I publicly express my obedience to Sir. I have had many names; my birth name , a nick name as a child and a cute name to my friends, my husband calls me another name, and an ex-husband called me, "Thing." But I know I am cynamyn and always will be.
I was born in another part of the world, my childhood probably no different to others of the same time and place. But I was different. I didn't feel different I was just different, what amused other children, bored me, what amused me gave other children confusion so slowly I started to drift away into my own world and that’s how it’s been ever since.
Secrets, as a child I had many, I adored my father and despised my mother. Only to find out how fickle a father’s love can be. I learnt to be without both from the age of 9.
I became an observer; I would watch others. Now you may think I was a lonely child: I wasn’t. I had friends and from those friends I kept secrets. I do not remember ever having dolls or toys, but I do remember the joy of exploring my sexuality. As a preschooler lunchtime naps were heaven, I would lie on the bed on my stomach and cup my little pussy in my hands and gently hump the pillow. It used to put me into a light trance like doze that settled all those confused feelings that little children experience. As a schoolgirl, masturbation was my secret past time and it kept me busy anytime I was alone. While my friends were chasing boys and gossiping about the latest fashions, I was comfortable in learning the pleasures my body could give me. A journey that was to be interrupted by expectations families had for girls in those days.
I married. Had children. Joined the church and became the typical all rounded Mother/Wife I was expected to be. I had left my secret world and joined the real world.
To say I did not enjoy it would an understatement and I was never totally satisfied. I remember once my young husband coming home to find me fucking myself. Bless his heart he never judged me, but he realized our sex life was just not enough.
Our marriage ended abruptly 5yrs later I was 27 years old. Being dated by a man 20 years my senior and I was in heaven. This man understood what it took to satisfy a woman of my type. And satisfy he did. He introduced me to all types of sex, and I was hooked. Out went the church, out went the stuffy dresses and pearls, gone was the well-groomed matronly wife and out came this hungry all absorbing raging sex machine.
I did whatever he wanted no questions asked. I trusted him implicitly, I worshipped him, I was his submissive without even knowing such a thing existed. He controlled what I ate, how I looked, what sex I could have and who I could talk to. He beat me once; I was actually unconscious for a few moments which scared him. I did not complain, I accepted my fate and tried to be a better wife. By that time I was married to him. But I was just not enough, and he went out and found others, he had a craving for prostitutes and would often go out .I remember telling him he could bring them home I would not mind. He never did.
My life changed again and now I’m with my present husband. A good man. Vanilla…. What more can say. I should have known better but I didn’t and I am now in the position of seeking out the lifestyle I want to have. But without him, he is oblivious, and I have to keep it that way. A man I’m proud to have as a husband but cant give me what I crave, the life of a submissive. If I could sit down and have a frank talk with him, and he could respond my actions would be different.
I have tried but he is vanilla he is plain and if he was an ice cream he would melt at the passion and fire I own.
So I began my quest to find the lifestyle I need to live.
