For Toy: How I became submissive

When I was 2o, my future husband and I were in a hotel room in an inn, sleeping in a room with a cast iron bed. "Blindfold me and tie me up," I said, gazing at the bars.
He did, we made love, and my screams of pleasure roared into the night (as we heard at breakfast the next morning).
The Story of O got me so aroused I was afraid to own it, least I read it obsessively, over and over.
When husband and I made love, I used to fantasize: men in hoods, strangers, holding me down as they used me for their pleasure. Being kept in a locked room, a slave, and brought out and given food only in exchange for sex. Fantasies so dark they terrified me and made me ask my therapist what could be the matter.
Husband and I went to a sex shop together at one point, and although we bought a butt plug and a flogger, he would never use them.
Then as my marriage was failing, I tried to be more of a slut--I invited anal sex, invited him to have sex more often, perfected my blow job skills and learned how to deep throat. But every time I suggested we role play, I was rejected. And my pleas for spanking, blindfolds and restraints were deemed....repulsive, brutalizing and unacceptable.
Even as we broke up, I had no clue that I might enjoy being submissive--after all, I'd only slept with one person for over 20 years--and we'd committed when we were both so inexperienced we had no idea what we might be missing.
To me, BDSM was some kind of fetishistic role-play in something called a dungeon where men with hoods and chains objectified and whipped women, used them as interchangeable objects. Nope, that didn't seem at all appealing.
And then, as my marriage was failing, I met Z on a dating site. He was a dominant, looking for a submissive, and he wanted someone he could love. He was bright, witty, literate and as we emailed about what he was looking for, I realized that, for me, this might be it.
All of a sudden, like the proverbial bolt of lightening, I got that my interest in being bound, controlled and restrained had a name and that it was an interest others--besides the guys in black hoods--shared.
It wasn't till a few months later that I had my first S&M experience with Z: blindfolded, hung on a door, whipped and flogged and beaten, probed and vibrated until the stimulation made me scream, until I was taken down so shaken my legs were trembling and he had to walk me to the bed, where he turned me over, tied my hands behind my back and jammed his hands into my soaking pussy.
And it was later, much later, that I started to fantasize about Z owning me, about the pleasure of giving him exactly what he wanted: a wet, submissive slut.
Between April and January 2006 was my awakening as a submissive; the passion peaked in January when Z had personal problems that made him less available and my connection to D began to grow.
Today, I am comfortable with and enjoy my submissive nature and hoping to find another man who can inspire the passion and intensity Z and I shared.

(I also like to joke that S&M is the mid-life sexual equivalent of a new-found liking for hot sauce; it awakens the taste buds as they die off.)


This post is for Toy, in thanks for her gifts and sharing