Some say there are some people who are born with the characteristics of a slave, or some call it the heart of a slave; others say that it is something that can be taught or learned from their environment. Throughout the history of the world the nature vs. nurture debate has touched many areas of life and human behavior, so why should this be any different? I personally believe that the truth of the matter in reality lays somewhere between these two extremes.
From a young age I have known I am submissive; first truly exploring this aspect of my personality in my late teens. With learning more about this submissive trait, many things from my childhood fell into place; it was like a piece of a puzzle was suddenly dropped into place. It also added a new clarity and direction to my life, something I had been lacking to this point. Luckily, growing up in a very large city that had a lot of lifestyle activity in the area, it didn’t take long for me to fall in with this crowd and I started to learn even more.
A few years later, after having been in service to wonderful Lady for about 18 months I had an earth shattering revelation. Unlike when I learned about my submissive nature and a piece of the puzzle fell into place, this was like a whole new puzzle being dropped on me, a puzzle I never saw coming and would have gone kicking and scream to my grave that it couldn’t be true…
I remember it like it was yesterday, the color of the evening sun streaming through the window, the hiss from the air conditioner, the smell of the leather chair ma’am was sitting in at the time, the feel of my pillow under me, the scent of her body lotion, every little detail still vivid. It was during a free speak time that the earthquake hit:
“…I don’t think I could ever be a slave, I don’t think I can do it,” I said half in fear, for I knew this is what she truly wanted in her life.
“Stand.” I stood. “Fetch me a glass of water.”
“Yes ma’am,” and off I went to the kitchen. Retrieved the glass ma’am always uses for water, placed exactly 3 ice cubes into the cup and then filled it 3/4 of the way with the bottled water she drinks. Retrieving a small serving tray, I placed the cup of water onto the tray and returned to the living room.
“Sit,” she said as she took the glass from the offered tray.
Sitting back down I was confused, she had never once in 18-months interrupted free speak time like this…had I done something wrong? Was she upset because I didn’t think I could be her slave? A bazillion things were all of a sudden flying through my head. Before I knew it, her hand was under my chin gently lifting my face towards her.
“Why did you do what you just did?”
“You wanted it.”
“No, that is not the answer by a long shot my pet, try again.”
My head was swimming, to many thoughts popping in, little demons making me nervous, I was taking a long time and knew she would become inpatient soon.
“Let’s try it from another angle. Just what is it that my pet wants out of being here?”
This one was easy, “I want nothing more than to serve, to make your life more enjoyable by doing all the little chores that need to be done, to give to you all that I am, all that I can be and all that I will be. I want nothing more than to make you happy, to surrender my…” a bolt of lighting struck at that instant. My world forever changed in that instant.
“Surrender my entire being to you.” I was trembling slightly at this point, more like a shiver you get when cold, but it must have been visible.
“Do you see it now?” I nodded, unable to speak.
“You are my slave. You have been for months, you just didn’t see it.”
My head was in a tizzy, to many thoughts kept coming in. How could I have not seen it? How could I have been so blind? Is this right? Is it possible that she’s made a mistake? No, that can’t be it. Is it possible it’s been there all along? But I would have seen it. How could I have become a slave and not realized it? Is that even possible? No, that can’t be possible, or could it? The room was now spinning wildly out of control, my head became light headed and the room slowly faded to black.
Next thing I knew I was in Mistress’ chair. The realization made me try to jump up, but her hand held me back. She leaned over and lightly brushed my cheek with her hand. “The rules are suspended, this is too important pet.”
“You knew?” I asked weakly, still feeling very disoriented.
“I’ve know since our second meeting you are a slave, even if you didn’t see it.” She sat on the arm of the chair, gently stroked my hair.
God how I loved that and as usual the simplest of touches calmed me, the reassurance that she was there, looking after my well being. Slowly things started to fall into place, little pieces of things that seemed disconnected over the last 2 months gained a new clarity. How could I have been so blind?
“You need to think things through, pet. Get up,” I stood, but was wobbly. Ma’am wrapped her arm around my waist. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were in sub-space,” she said as she guided me to my corner.
Ma’am sat me down on my pillow and retreated to another part of the apartment, leaving me to my thoughts. I don’t remember much of that day after this point, with things becoming rather foggy. Over the next three days, the rules were suspended and we spent hours upon hours simply talking.
It was during those talks over those days that I made the decision to beg Mistress for her collar…but that is a topic for another post.