New collar

I'm so excited.

I just had my birthday, and one of my presents was a new slave collar.

As you might know if you've read many of my posts, I wear a permanent slave collar. It's discreet, and can not be taken off, at least by me.

It is secured in the back with a special screw that needs a specific driver. It would be impossible to remove with a normal tool. You'd either have to have to drill out the screw (which would be risky because you might drill into me) or cut through the steel collar (which would be risky because you might cut through my neck as well).

My collar, because it is permanent, is my most prized and valued possession. It is with me always. It's weight on my neck is a constant reminder of who and what I am. I can be sitting at my desk at work and still know that my husband and owner has control over me, that I am always his. Owned by him.

My old collar was made of a high quality steel. It was light but durable and I liked the way it looked. It fit nicely around my neck, perfectly measured to fit loosely but small enough there is absolutely no way to get it off (e.g. it is larger than my neck but smaller than my head).

So my birthday present. It looks similar in many ways. Slightly thinner, it looks more delicate, but is made of a durable steel underneath a thick coating of silver. I will have to work to keep it untarnished, polishing it once a week, but that won't be a problem.

It also has a matching O ring, which can be used to attach a leash, or a piece of jewelry for going out in public. Or both? I'm giggling right now, and can't keep from touching it, fondling it with my hand. I look in the mirror constantly, I love how the bright silver contrasts and compliments my light, smooth skin.

Jason put the new collar on me first, so that initially I had both collars on. He didn't want me to be without my slave collar, even when we were switching between the two. Then he took out the special tool for the old collar, unscrewed it (it took several minutes), and removed it.

I was so happy, I asked him for permission to fuck him right then, and he gave it but not until he put on a leash. Once I was properly leashed I stripped, spread my legs, straddled him, slid his cock inside and rode him like a cowgirl. He came twice, the second time when he took me from behind and did me slow, leisurely, driving me crazy. I think I came twice then too, feeling him pull my leash, the sensation of its pressure on my neck as he filled me from behind.

It was a really good present.

My First Dominant

I think I started my search for a true, fulfilling D/s relationship since just before I was a teenager, when the feelings first surfaced in a tangible way.

As I've mentioned in earlier postings, I gained a strong desire for bondage and kink as a teenager, quite early in life. Before I even knew what "bondage" was. I just knew I liked tying myself up, and the feeling of being tied up. The feeling of being tied up quickly became associated with sexual arousal and pleasure.

Yes, it started out as a fascination with self bondage. The bondage became very sexual in nature. It then expanded to pain. Over the years I simply grew from wanting to be tied up, to needing the feeling of being bound and restrained during sex, and then wanting the bondage to become uncomfortable and even painful. The intensity of the experience was like a drug.

All of this required someone willing to tie me up; someone that would tie me, hurt me, take me sexually.

In other words, a dominant. And as I became more dependent on a dominant in my life, I became more submissive.

When I was 14, bondage was just play that was associated with kinky sex and was fun. Finding partners for this play at that age was really difficult. It actually started with some girls, at sleep overs. I introduced the idea of playing tie up games. Games with consequences; like... if you could get out of the tie in a certain amount of time you got to force a dare on the person that tied you. If you didn't, they could force a dare on you.

Most of the girls I hung with were not lesbian and so tying other girls up never went much of anywhere. I did have one girlfriend in high school that I had sex with a number of times. I remember doing it in the back seat of her car in front of her parent's house, and another time in the pool of our high school music teacher during a party. But she never had any interest in tying me up, or being tied up. She just loved sex with girls and I was the cutest girl around that was interested in lesbian sex.

Guys though... well, the problem was that most of the guys in high school were stupid and incompetent. They could fuck, sure. I spread my legs, they would put it in and pound away. They even kissed me while doing it. It wasn't something they had to learn, it was instinct.

But bondage? Most guys were like, sure.... I'll do that... but then would back out. They would get scared of me and worry I was going to turn it into some rape accusation and they'd end up in jail. That was a big problem; I even had a pair of handcuffs I had used for some self bondage scenarios, and none of the guys I fucked back then would use them. They were afraid I would go running out in the street screaming rape.

So, I spent time trying to find someone I could really get into bondage with. I did find one guy that would tie me up while I was dressed. He wasn't even a boyfriend, really, he just had fun tying me and this other girl up. He even tied us together some, which was actually pretty cool because I was exploring my bisexuality back then and loved being pressed close to another girl. This other girl, her name was Jayce, the few times we were tied together I remember wriggling and rubbing against her some. She wasn't really bi but she tolerated it.

So it was really just sort of playing around until I was 16.

My first real experience being tied up and completely sexually dominated came at age 16 with a 20 year old guy named Kevin who had gotten a taste for bondage and thought finding a cute 16 year old to tie up was the best thing ever. He had a sadistic streak, but I guess that's something of what I needed. Someone that would take it seriously.

I met Kevin in a night class at the community college. He was a tall and relatively good looking guy with sandy hair that was a little curly, a strong face, and pretty nice body. I liked how he was tall, I remember, he towered above me. We got along right away, and he asked me out. I don't think he knew I was 16 at the time.

We had a couple of dates, and he fucked me in the back seat of his car on the second date. When we were fucking, I remember his holding my wrists above my head securely, so I couldn't move them. It was a little thing, but it turned me on incredibly, the way he held me down and controlled me during the sex. I had an orgasm like a freight train, and he told me later I was the best fuck he had ever had. Strange, but that made me proud.

We went out a couple more times, and each time when we fucked he was completely dominant, pushing me down and holding me in place. Finally, like, on the 4th or 5th date I asked him to tie me up. His eyes just glowed like he was incredibly happy, and he got out some rope he had in his apartment and tied my wrists together and then up to the top of the bed; I could tell right away that he knew what he was doing because the tie was tight, there was no way I would get out of it, and he did it fast.

Just getting my wrists tied was enough for me to get off, about all I had ever had a guy do, but he also tied my legs apart. Ankles anchored to the side of the bed so I was spread wide. It was amazing. The feeling of helplessness was so incredible, I got a rush of adrenalin and was so aroused I was ready to cum right then. I mean, he could have done anything to me right then and there was nothing I could ever have done about it, and it got me off.

Well, Kevin fucked me. He fucked me in my cunt, but before he came he made me eat him, rough, deep. He shoved so deep down my throat I threw up a little, and had slime all over my chin. No guy had done that before, not that roughly. Don't get me wrong I had done lots of blow jobs by the time I was 16, but never rough where the guy shoved it all the way down my throat to the point where my stomach just barfed. And there was nothing I could do, I was tied tight. I couldn't even protest, my mouth was full of cock. I just make gurgling noises.

After a while he stopped forcing the deep throat and he jammed something up my ass, I think it was a little statue of the Eiffel Tower, or something like that. It hurt like hell, but he jammed it up there and then fucked my cunt again until he was ready to cum.

Remember, I was still relatively inexperienced back then. I didn't expect it when he pulled out, moved up to my head and finished himself off, jacking his cock over my face and then letting go with solid streams of cum all over my face and hair. I was tied up and couldn't do a damn thing about it, I just lay there and let him smear his cum all over my face.

I did't realize I had a rape fantasy until then. What he did to me then, that time, was pretty close to rape except for the fact I had asked him to do it. Well, not the details, like forcing me to vomit on his cock or ram something up my ass, but I had asked him to tie me up and take me, yanno? And he did, just a little rougher than I had thought. I was naive.

That whole experience was really difficult for me to process. On the one hand, he had really gone too far, raping my asshole with an object, fucking my mouth until I vomited, and spurting his semen on my face. It was way intense.

On the other hand, I had sort of asked him for it. I wanted him to take me, to tie me up and then take me so I felt helpless. And believe me, I felt totally helpless. It was also an incredible turn on. I loved the feeling of helplessness.

There is a fundamental difference in the feeling of being tied up when you do it yourself, and being tied up and helpless at the whim of someone else who is going to do things to your body and you got no control over it at all. With Kevin, I discovered just how deeply my desire for that feeling of helplessness ran inside me. I really got off on being tied, and then taken. And if the guy did something I didn't expect, it just made me feel more vulnerable and helpless, and that's what I was getting off on.

It wasn't that easy finding a place and time to let Kevin tie me up and rape me. It took time, sometimes made a mess (I bled a couple of times, and there was vomit and drool and semen), and had to be private. I couldn't do it at my house. Kevin had an apartment, where we would do it, but we only did it when his roommate wasn't around. I was still in school, too, and that limited things a bit.

We'd find time, though, maybe once every couple of weeks, to do a scene. That was when I sort of learned about the whole concept of a scene; setting something up a specific way, and playing it out until he was satisfied sexually. Yeah, I got off on it too, but the real focus on the scenes was on him. Kevin had to get off. Kevin was the one who was in control, and if I climaxed that was fine, but ultimately it was Kevin's cum that mattered. That part was OK because it was all part of being dominated and helpless.

I was too young to realize it back then, but Kevin was an asshole. He wasn't a true sadist, and had no finesse. More and more he turned to just hitting me during sex. After a couple of bruises on my face, I had to ask him to cut it out, because my parents were all up in my ass, trying to figure out why I kept falling down at school (hey, I couldn't tell them my boyfriend liked to punch me out when we fucked, could I?)

Yeah, Kevin would tie me up, and fucked me and made me feel helpless and all, but after a while it was apparent that he wasn't a dominant, not truly. He was just more of a wife beater. He got off on tying me up, sure, and fucked me, but he was really nasty and just couldn't help himself from punching me or hurting me.

When he punched me one day when we were at Six Flags having some fun, and he got mad about something, that was the end. He wasn't dominating me, he was just mean. So I broke up with him. A week later he raped me, for real. I was leaving work (a fast food place) and he grabbed me and threw me down in the back bed of his truck and forced my legs apart and rammed home until he came inside. I didn't scream, I could have, but I think I was scared of him and our history together and didn't want to have to explain to anyone what we had been doing and why that time was different. But it was.

That wasn't the last time I was raped, but those are different stories.

Anyway, after Kevin, I realized I wanted and needed what he had given me. I needed the feeling of being tied and helpless, of submitting to another person and maybe even being forced to do things. Of feeling like I had no control over my body. I just needed that as part of a relationship, and with a lot more style. Like, some sort of mutual commitment. Just getting beat up and raped wasn't what I needed.

So, Kevin was actually the first guy that opened my eyes to my being a submissive, and he also showed me that he wasn't the true dominant that I wanted.

My search continued.