January/February 2003
To Earn
by nora

*****TO EARN*****

In the local scene over the past several years, it felt like a lot of Dominant's wanted you to earn their dominance, earn their collar, earn *their* trust. Contrary to what I've heard of other places, Minneapolis/St. Paul has a plethora of female submissives and decent male Dominants are few and far between.

Being the type of person that struggles with esteem issues and intense desire to please, this set me up for failure and a lot of bad feelings. I'd work and serve and submit, then wonder what a horrible person, what a horrible submissive that I must be to not be able to "earn" any of what I craved so much.

Oh, how it had its reflections in my childhood, when nothing I ever did was "good enough." Ever. Four A's and a B? Why'd I get the B? I made second chair in clarinet? Why not first? I must not be practicing enough. I cleaned my room without being told? Well, the bathroom is still a mess. You get the idea.

Then came Master.


He never asked or told me to call him Master. One day it just naturally came to my lips.

And he smiled.


Dominance and submission naturally flows from our relationship. It's never a play-act or contrived thing. He looks at me or speaks to me in a certain way and my shoulders relax, my breathing slows, my gaze lowers - all very naturally. I perform an act of loving service or show my submission to him in other ways and his eyes get very intense, his hands move roughly over me, his voice lowers - becoming both more growl-like and firm.

We feed on each other until we are lost in that wonderful dance - like eagles that mate on the wing, spiraling high.


I've never had to "earn" his Dominance. Ever.

Before he claimed me, before I called him Master, he believed that I was a wonderful person. He didn't give a rat's ass what I thought of myself. *HE* knew I was wonderful and good and thoughtful and bright and all sorts of other fantastic things. Not only does he believe these things - he's getting me to believe them too.

"No matter what I look like to others, I am beautiful in his eyes, and because of that I hold my head high...for who can tell me that my Master is wrong in seeing the beauty in me?"

Including myself.


My Master isn't what I expected. There's an exceptional article in the previous Dom-sub Lifestyle journal on "Dominating vs. Domineering" by Chrystal. It seems I was looking at the "wrong" type of Dominant for me. My attention would go to the ones that were the center of attention. A bit loud, demanding, aggressive. Even the ones that claimed to be the "soft-spoken" type, they would enter a room and be the center of attention with little submissive birds hovering and chirping about waiting for a crumb.

Just the type that because there was such a competition for them - I couldn't sing perfectly enough, my flight not smooth enough.

Little did I know that I would find my Master in the quiet one sitting along the wall. Not because he was too shy or unsure to join in the mayhem. But because he simply found no need.

"He is composed and unperturbed yet quietly and keenly alert."


Oh BOY is he "keenly alert."

After the first time we met - he spent a long weekend with my husband and myself - we were speaking on the phone about "signals." He told me he had no need for me to tell him my "signals" - he already knew them. He proceeded to rattle off a dozen "tell-tales" of mine - much to my surprise... and pleasure.

We both have a "special signal" when we are both deep into what it is that we do, though neither of us notice it ourselves. He tells me my eyes get a very very deep blue. When he is deep into dominance, his legs "get involved" - whether it's to twine around my legs or to wrap around my neck or shoulders.

(*blinks* Heh, just got lost in a little daydream about him holding me down by my hair with foot or knee.*cough* Anyway...)

Last time he was here, we were in the middle of a rather lovely erotic beating when the crop smacked across the bottom of first one foot, then the other. Now, I know this isn't something that many people like - but this sent me orbital. I was past sub-space, past white space - I have no idea where I was, but damn it felt good. When I was about to figure out how to talk again, we spoke of it. It seems he had remembered me mentioning in passing that I liked the bottom of my feet struck - about SIX months prior.

Yes... keen indeed.

*****TO GROW*****

Master "helps his submissive to grow." I'm not sure why so many people freaked out over that phrase. He *does* help me grow. Physically, he helps grow in health. Mentally, he helps me define goals and steps to get to those goals. Emotionally, because of him, I have become softer, more accepting, surrendering not only to him, but to the vagaries of life. My self-esteem has grown by leaps and bounds.

I'm not some door-mat or "loser" that needed to be "fixed." Rather, part of the pleasure of being my Master for him, is being my "coach." And I freely admit to *not* being self-motivated. I am "other-motivated." As he once put it, 'You'd feel free to break a promise to yourself, but you'd do everything you can to keep a promise to another person, even if it hurts you to do so."

We talk about my goals, what steps I'd like to take, what I feel comfortable doing, what makes me nervous. After all that's that, then it's no longer "we." From that point, I surrender, I submit. And he takes control with a fine and firm hand. He tells me what to do, I obey. He pushes my limits - gently, but continuously.

And under this hand, I blossom and grow. Ain't it grand?


There's another great article in the Dom-sub Lifestyle previous journal called, "The Submissive Slave" by dark whisper.

That's what I am - a "submissive slave." I am owned. Utterly and totally. No, we don't live together. Yes, I'm married. Yes, my husband knows. No, we don't even live in the same state.

How can I claim to be owned then?

Because Master says so, that's why.

But beyond that, there are other reasons. I don't know if I can even verbalize them. I just *know*. He just "knows." When he hisses in my ear, "Mine!" every fiber in my being replies 'Yes!' He has my complete and utter emotional surrender. Oh, once in a rare while I have some resistance. I am human after all. But it tends to be tissue paper thin. He rarely has to punish me. First, he doesn't punish for mistakes, just disobedience. Add that to my strong desire to please, and I rarely disobey.

The undercurrent of my day is, "Would Master find this pleasing? What would Master think of this? What can I do to bring some pleasure to my Master? Does this fit into the goals Master has for me?"

One of Master's absolute favorite things is orgasm control. (Okay, it's his favorite thing.) I will come when he tells me to, how many times he tells me to, where he tells me too and how he tells me too. Being able to come on command and being multi-orgasmic sometimes makes this a rather sadistic pleasure of his. Sometimes he doesn't even need to verbally give the command, but rather he locks eyes with me. Staring at me. I imagine I have the doe in the headlights look - wide-eyed and still. Then he gives me an almost imperceptible nod. And there I go...

There are times when mentally I am just NOT in the mood to come several times then five minutes later come many more times then five minutes later come just a couple times more. Yet... yet...My body gives me no choice. He gives the command, my body responds. I rather feel like Pavlov's dog, with a puddle of moisture on my chair rather than a chin full of drool. Even just writing about it, I find myself getting aroused. That helplessness to obey. It thrills and scares me.

I am his.


We've know each other a year. He's been my Master for five months. I trust him. Totally. Completely. I believe he wants only the best for me. I believe that he would never purposefully hurt or betray me. Perhaps I shouldn't trust him so much. I've learned over the years that people tend to not be trustworthy - rightly or wrongly.

But I do. He is Master. I surrender to him, all that I am. And I feel totally safe doing so.

If he told me to jump off a cliff, physically or emotionally, I would do so. Oh, there would be a moment of hesitation where I would look into his face and we would speak without a word...

"Are you sure this is what you want me to do, Master?" "Yes, my nora." "I'm frightened, Master." "I know. Trust me." "Yes, Master."

And I would turn and step off that cliff *knowing* that either there is a net to catch me below or he will take my hand as I make that final step and we will fly...