Princess Treatment

A Daddy’s necklace makes the best necklace.

Yesterday a penpal asked me the infamous question in the BSDM community: Dominant or submissive?

As a lifestyler, this question gets asked as many ways as there are for answering it, and I even had a Dominant once invite me to guess (incorrectly) what role he played, laugh in my face at my wrong guess, and walk off. I often wonder if he’d still be laughing if he knew the submissive he rejected could be so influential now, but I digress.

There’s a warmth in me that comes about when I think about that question — a revelation, a realisation. I remember, so sure was I, stepping into it all and thinking that I should Dominate people because I led at home, as a carer. Even before that, in school, I’d always been the assigned project/activity leader.

So to me, it made sense that I would lead people.

In fact, because I’ve always been a leader, it seemed to make sense to a lot of people that I should lead.

But there was something, something amiss: the thought of leading and dominating men didn’t fill me with joy and satisfaction — there was something missing for me.

Listening to submissives talk about the freedom they felt under their Dominant’s leadership made me realise that I wanted that for myself. Sometimes I didn’t want to lead; I wanted someone else to take control.

I had a submissive of my own for about three years, A. A was cheeky, mischievous — he kept me on my toes. I loved A, and I believe he loved me, but ours wasn’t a romantic love. Perhaps not wholly, anyway.

A left me suddenly to go on a gap year and, having had boyfriends before who wanted to put our relationship on hold while they sorted their life out, I couldn’t. This was my life. If we’re done here, then we’re done.

That’s not to say that it didn’t hurt and I didn’t often think about him, but I wouldn’t put my life on hold for him.

So I started exploring things with Master Levi, and things changed for him and for me. Master found his confidence in me and this little secret that we shared. For me, I’d found my freedom in him.

I walked with a bounce and a smile on my face. I had more pep in my step, if only the world knew why.

Of course, the world thought I must be having good sex. That was certainly part of it, but it wasn’t all of it. The ‘all’ came from all of the other stuff he did with me.

Master enjoyed putting me in stress positions until my body ached and I hated him with every inch of my being. When he eventually released me, I’d moan and Master would laugh — even when he hurt me, I couldn’t hide my pleasure in it. Even today, my (consensual) pain is our shared pleasure.

Master doesn’t spank me, not often: ours is not a spanking relationship. That’s not to say that he doesn’t, or that he doesn’t enjoy it (or that it isn’t fun) when he does, but we aren’t really about protocol and discipline so much as we are about sensation and having fun. That’s also not to say that we don’t have rules — Daddy’s toys are still very much off-limits for Kitten’s paws — but Master wants me to feel free in my submission to him. He wants me to choose my submission to him, every day.

And I do.

I had to giggle last night, when I tormented the Admiral about giving a brat a belt (a highly dangerous thing for a brat to do, I do realise, but then what’s life without a little danger? 😉). The Admiral said that I wasn’t Dobby, the house elf from Harry Potter.

So I did what any brat would do in my shoes. I fetched my “Dobby socks”, ironically bought for me by none other than Master Levi himself and namely because this brat has a predisposition for yoinking a sock off of Master’s foot, proudly hosting it in the air and declaring “Master has given Dobby a sock. Dobby is free!”

Well if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em 😉:

The Admiral said that I choose to stay with Master Levi of my own free will, and I was somewhere between that soft submission that I feel in my submission to Master, and chiding the Admiral for stating what, at least to me, seems pretty freaking obvious.

I’m not loudly protesting about my submission to Master Levi. I’m not shouting and screaming and begging for help to be freed from Master Levi. If I wanted to leave, I could. It might not be easy, but I can. For all of the bondage he likes to keep me in, I’m not exactly trapped in my marriage, y’know?

Anyway.

It got a bit silly, with me tormenting the Admiral about not every Dominant going around “assimilating” submissives, and the Admiral hinting at sub hunts. So we’re doing this again? Well, fine. But one of us hasn’t forgotten about the other threatening to shoot the other with a Nerf gun. One of us has been practicing.

Si vis pacem, para bellum 😉

Saturday, Master was looking for a football programme to show his Dad. He fetched down his sentimental box in our bedroom where I was working and searched through it.

Master finds a card, holds it up and smiles.

“Remember this?” he asks. On the front of the card is a cartoonish tiara and the words TREAT ME LIKE A PRINCESS AND CHOKE ME.

“Well, it’s true,” I shrug, “princesses like necklaces around their throats.”

Master grins and places his hand on my throat with gentle pressure on the sides. My smile turns to a wide grin.

“Like this?” he asks in a whisper.

“Yes, Daddy, ” I say. “Thank you, Daddy” I add.

“Good girl,” he says, kisses me on the lips and releases me.

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