The Gentleman Caller…

de niro 2

He made me nervous….
Yes, me.  Ms. Calm, Cool and Collected.

Yes I am the same girl who has had playdates with Sadists. Rode the range with the Outlaw. Transcended space and time with a Pulitzer Prize winning writer. And played one hell of a football game with an up-and-coming Coach.

Yet he….made me nervous.
In a good way.

Readers, meet The Captain.  He has a boat and has invited me to apply for the position of first mate.

Ahoy there…

On to the maiden voyage.

Our initial meeting on OKC was a bit different.  Unconventional.  His first message:

“Wow.  Hello, Nicegirl. can you become a naughty girl?”

Something about the message and his profile picture clicked with me.  So I answered,

“Well I hate to say this, I already am.  Very naughty.”

And it went from there.  We exchanged innuendo and banter for a few messages, when something he said resonated to me that he was a Dominant, but just didn’t know it.

So I told him that he should “channel his inner Dominant”

And it gained momentum from there.  I shared this blog with him and recommended he learn about the D/s dynamic.  Honestly, I thought our relationship was simply going to be one of messages.

I mean, I shared this racy blog with him, providing him with a detailed account of my torrid tales.  While intrigued by it, most suitors run for the hills after seeing what I am in to .

He was different.  Not going anywhere.  Not this one.

And he gave me a curfew, in military time.  Just the kind of direction I crave.

After a lengthy conversation  into the wee hours of the night, he said,

“What if I come see you tonight?  I can be there in about 45 minutes.”

Holy shit…tonight?  I thought, but didn’t say it.  And after all it was well past my curfew…

But he who makes the rules can bend the rules.

“I need a minute to straighten up and freshen up.  Can you give me until 4:00?”

(Yes that was 4:00 am)

I began picking up Legos.  Cleaning off the tables.  Trying to make the house presentable.

Nothing like speed cleaning at “Oh”-three-hundred…

I sent him a text asking for some extra time.

His reply to me was simply, “Relax”

And I did.  Because he told me to.  Already establishing his Dominance.

So he arrived at 4.  We had instant chemistry as he crossed the threshold into my home.

He was tall.  And extremely handsome.  He smelled heavenly.

His eyes were more intense in person than they were in his pictures.  (He truly has Robert De Niro’s eyes.)

And more than anything, he had presence.  He carried himself in a stature of control and discipline.

Even at 4:00 am.


He was a very sensual kisser, reeling me in with the taste of his lips.  There was no awkwardness.  No inhibition.

I found myself under his spell.

No space.  No time.  Just us…enjoying this early morning sojourn.

As things went further, there was no need for words.  Each movement, each shift was orchestrated by our penetrating eye contact.  We were able, on our inaugural voyage, to communicate without words.

The intensity in his stare translated to the intensity in his body.  So imposing in stature.  And such an amazing lover.  So considerate.  So attentive.  So passionate.

Such a gentleman.

He was my guide into the twilight hours.  And although we did not dive into any BDSM activities, our time together was far from vanilla.  He took me on a journey to pleasure.  Intense.  Raw.  Passionate.  Pleasure.

And as far as D/s, we both realize that there will plenty of time to explore our dynamic.  But I willingly give him the control, allowing him to lead me wherever that may be.

This lady is honored to have such a gentleman.

And as he put it (quoted from a wise Dominant’s blog…) he understands that “A Gentleman is a patient wolf…”

Until next time, Captain.






Cats, Curiosity and the Renaissance Man


It’s 4:00 in the MORNING….

There is so much spinning about in my head tonight.  I am all over the place.  I feel unsettled.  I feel curious.

A couple of weeks ago, I was messaged by a man from my Vanilla dating site.  This message was much different from the typical Vanilla message of, “your purty” or “hit me up gorgeous” or “let’s chat beautiful”

This message had a distinct tone.  A tone recognizable to a sub like myself.  It unsettled me…in a good way.

Curiosity is a weakness for me as prefaced in some of the good/bad decisions I’ve made along my journey.

Who is this man?  I read his profile.

Well-written and biting…I liked it immediately.  There were certain undertones.

Then I read his list of 6 things he could not live without, #6 was his riding crop.


I replied to his message with my own certain tone and added in, as a closing, “I have been known to enjoy a riding crop”

Message received.

We began talking and there was an instant connection.  He was different than anyone I’d talked with previously.  He had a true wisdom about him…a je ne sais quoi….

Worldly, well-spoken, polite, knowledgeable.  A pure gentleman with a twisted dark side.

I was talking with a real Renaissance Man.

I’d heard of Renaissance men, but I thought of them more as a concept, an ideal.  I didn’t think they existed.

And I found one…early in my journey.

A real Renaissance Man in the modern world…who is also an experienced Dom.

With a riding crop.

The BDSM gods have smiled down upon me. 

As we plan our inaugural encounter, he sends me his thoughts.  Random thoughts.  Dark thoughts.  Enlightened thoughts.  Kinky thoughts.

His emails are so well-written that it’s almost like reading a erotic novella.  And because of this I call him, Hemingway.

So Hemingway sends an interesting thought…

“In the Vanilla world, couples often have a difficult time expressing their desires.  Especially their dark desires.  They fear rejection.  They fear their partner will find them perverse.  It’s different in OUR beautiful world.  We openly express our darkest needs and desires, however, there is still a degree of fear.  If we verbalize the fantasy, are we truly prepared for it to become a reality? In OUR world, there is a high probability it will happen.  So, I guess we should be careful what we wish for…”

Eloquent.  Honest.  Thought-provoking.

And there have been other thoughts.  Dark thoughts.  Scenarios with burning flesh and medieval torture tactics.

Hemingway has certainly peaked my curiosity.  He is different.  I almost don’t know how to prepare for our first encounter.  It’s a bit unsettling.

A bit scary.

And I like it.

More to come…




Love Me Tender…(Bond part 3)

Monday’s here.  It was an amazing weekend.

Friday was a journey that began with sticking my toe in the pool and ended with cliff-diving into the unknown waters of submission.

Saturday was about ritual.  It was preparing an altar, myself as the offering.  Giving all.  Pure submission.

Sunday was a reflection of freedom and acceptance.  My own acceptance of the person I am.  The freedom of knowing who I am.

Let’s connect the dots on a bigger scale…

As I take this journey into submission and enlightenment, I find a recurring theme.

We all want to connect.

We all want to trust.

It is fundamental in the lifestyle.  We connect with those who are likeminded.  We seek those who share or complement our interests, our “kinks”.  We want to share with others like ourselves.

And each aspect of the lifestyle revolves around trust.  Ironically similar in the vanilla world.  The difference is we take a much more literal approach in the BDSM existence.  We literally demonstrate trust in the roles we play.

Safe.  Sane. Consensual.

I learned so much in the 6 hours I spent with Mr. Bond.  He is patient and understanding.  He understands how to get his sub to freely submit without intimidation.  He gets the vulnerability.

I found a smidge of vulnerability in him.  During one of our breaks he reflected on the name I chose for him.

“Why do you call me James Bond?”

“Because you are so dashing, Sir.  So in control.  You have the persona”

“Have you read the books, or just watched the movies?”

I had to think about this one.  I recalled reading an early book.

“So you think of me in that way?”

That way?  “What do you mean?”

Sir went on to explain that James Bond’s character was based on a real person who was ruthless in his quest to complete his mission, often killing those who stood in his way.  Far more intense than the character in the movies (especially during the Roger Moore years, I might add).

“He was a ruthless killer.  Is that how you perceive me?”

Interesting.  He wonders how I see him.  Me, the submissive, how I view him….as the consummate Dominant.

“No, Sir.  I see you as the one who truly has it together, is self-assured, self-sufficient and not afraid to push limits.”

There is so much to the D/s dynamic.  So much more than the “rules” of play, or the roles themselves, I am finding that it is also about mutual respect.  It’s about mutual trust.

When our session became acutely intense and I begged Mr. Bond to stop (intentionally not using my safe word) he would say, “Take it for me, little girl.  Say it.  Say, ‘I take it for you, Sir.'”

Sometimes I couldn’t even verbalize the words.  I didn’t feel that I had enough breath in my body left to say anything.

But I would pull myself together and do it.  I would look him in the eye and say, “I take it for you, Sir.”

And after that exchange, I always felt empowered, knowing that Bond had helped me through a limit.  And that I was okay.  I was better because of it.

Applying that to the vanilla world, wouldn’t it be nice to have someone there to help you overcome your fears?  Help you venture out of your comfort zone?

I think those of us in the lifestyle are on to something.

Unfortunately those not in the lifestyle will never understand it.

I must admit…I am a “hot mess” today.  Recovering both physically and mentally from the pure intensity of the weekend.

I am bruised on my arms, neck and chest.  I have actual bite marks all over the back of my neck, my shoulders, my feet and toes.  And I am not sure, but I think Bond may have left his initial on my backside…ever so slightly with his knife.  So hot…

But I do love the reminders.  They represent the limits we surpassed.  Maybe next time Bond will see fit to find some more discreet places to brand me :).  (It is summer.  We live in the South.  No sleeveless or ponytails for me for at least a week)

So Bond, I leave you with this…

If we play together again (and I sincerely hope we do)

Love me Tender, Sir.

I know you already know the words.

Stirred…But Not Shaken, Mr. Bond

I am an addict.

Yes, an addict.

My drug is not tangible. It’s not the obvious.

It is NOT what you’re assuming….

It is not sex. That just happens to be a by-product of the rush.

Fear is my drug.

Fear of the unknown. The sheer anticipation of what’s to come.

It’s an adrenaline high that rivals no other.

The other thrill-seekers out there are thinking, you could get the same rush from doing so many other things.

I can’t say that I would get the same rush from bungee jumping, or sky diving. By comparison, those are tame…there are many controlled factors: a parachute, bungee cord, professionals to guide you through, etc. The variables are the “what-if’s” that exist to thrill.

What if the parachute doesn’t open? What if the cord breaks?  The outcome will likely be the same.

When it comes to my search for a Dominant, everything is a variable. There are no controlled factors.

You cannot control a man’s intent.

You cannot control the depths of a man’s dark desire.

And you cannot control a man’s actions, especially a Dominant man. Particularly a sadist (we’ll come back to this)

You can only adapt and control your response.

That’s the thrill for me, in this journey as the perfect submissive.

Being face-to-face with the unknown.

The penetrating eye contact.

Only being to anticipate next steps from their cues/directives.

And knowing that I have willingly put myself in the situation to submit to them.

I had resolved in my head, to back away from Mr. Bond. He was so experienced in the lifestyle. So aware of his own desires and how I could fulfill them, that I found myself fearful. It was scary on a level that shook this fear-addict.

But then curiosity got the best of me. He is so fascinating. So real. So confident.

I decided I should at least meet him once to assess how I felt in his presence.

But I already know how I feel in his presence…vulnerable.

I needed to test my limits.

We agreed to meet next Saturday evening.  He selected a hotel.

I was given specific instructions of how to prepare and what to wear.

At the specified time, I am to be waiting for him at the bar.

I am to wear a dress.

With black heels.

My hair is to be down and wild (not hard here in the South…humidity dictates wild)

My lips and toes will be red.

I am not allowed to wear underwear.

He will approach me at the bar. I am to wait for his signal.

I’ve already played the entire scene out in my head. He will walk in, such the handsome devil and observe me from afar, carefully assessing whether or not I followed his instructions.

He will then approach me from behind. Whispering something in my ear that only an experienced Dom would say, while grinning, sadistically.

From there, he will taunt me with innuendo and possibly coerce me into doing risqué things in public. After all, there is a reason we are meeting in a bar. In a public place. He has a plan.

There is always a method to this sadist’s madness.

I am giddy with excitement. I know that I will experience things I’ve never tried before.

I know that he will test my limits.

He will help me push my limits.  I have given him permission.

He’s in my head.

And as scary as all of this is, I know that he will keep me safe. That is the number one role of any Dom, to keep their submissive safe.

My soul is stirred….but my core is not shaken, Mr. Bond.

Next weekend cannot get here fast enough for this eager Bond girl.

To Sir, with Love (or something like it)

So a few of you reading my prose asked about the correlation between my torrid tales and the tagline: “how my journey as a submissive lead me closer to God”

God, you say?

I know what you are thinking….
How does He fit in, in the BDSM scene?

I will begin by telling you the story of “Sir”

Boredom is a dangerous thing for me as I have an overly active mind. After registering on Fetlife, the fetish website, (that’s a story for an entirely different post) I decided to try an alternative dating site. I knew I did not want to do the ones that promise marriage. No, no Our time, and DEFINITELY NO E-HARMONY, that almost guarantees marriage. Honestly, that is the LAST thing I want! So I found Ok Cupid. The site was well put together and easy to navigate. The questions were a bit odd and intrusive, but I liked it. I decided to “shake things up” a bit. So I created a very racy profile.

SIDE NOTE: You know, as I did this I had a visual image of myself sticking one toe in the pool…is the water too cold? Too warm?

Or just right?

Less than 24 hours later….

I had over 80 messages. WHAT???? It was a good picture, yes. But the way I wrote the profile was the real clincher. Perusing the messages, a handful stood out. One of which was a 42 year old gentleman from a neighboring state. Not too close, but not too far. I found him interesting.

I engaged him in an email exchange. He definitely had a tone to his messages, a very dominant tone. I was intrigued. We talked for hours upon hours. He was an amazing listener and really seemed to understand the dynamic I sought. He called me, “young lady” and I was instructed to refer to him as, “Sir”

One Thursday night, he asked, “What’s your work schedule tomorrow?”

“I am working from my home office”

Sir: “Great, I am coming to see you.”

Panic set in…(do you recall my track record with Friday encounters?) We agreed upon a meeting place and it was set for 11:00 the next morning. YIKES….

We met in the parking lot of a local restaurant. We were coming back to my place, but I thought it best that I pick him up and bring him to my house. No exchange of addresses.

That moment when we saw each other across the parking lot was intense. We just stared at each other, for what seemed like several minutes. He walked over to the car.

In his bossy tone, “I am getting my bag out of my car. You get out and sit in the passenger seat. I’ll be right back. I am driving your car.”

Dominant in every way, he drove aggressively to the house. We barely spoke a word. When I walked around the car to go through the garage, he grabbed me and practically laid me out ON THE CAR, kissing me.

We then moved to the kitchen…clothes began coming off. He pinned me to the stove and just as we were moving to the bed and things were about to go to the next level, God walked in.

Twelve days early, I started my period….WHAT??

I recognized it for what it was…a divine intervention. I thought this quietly to myself.

But instead of packing up the party, we just laid there. Naked. Exposed.

He said, “You know this was no accident, don’t you?”

“What was no accident?”

“That we met. Made these plans which did not come to fruition”

I felt a flurry in my stomach…how did he know?

“Explain what you mean,” I said. Curious to hear his take on things.

“Think about it. We both jumped into the pool without knowing much of anything. (interesting analogy…remember my words above about sticking a toe in the pool) I could have been a serial killer. You could have been a psycho. But we’re not. We’re here for a purpose”

I laughed and said, “Well, sorry to spoil that purpose…Mother Nature”

We talked and talked. Honestly, I don’t do well with that level of exposure and vulnerability. He asked me if I ever thought I’d marry again.

“Me? Marry again?” I asked. “Never again. I obviously don’t do well with marriage.”

He said, “That’s not your choice, young lady.”

I said, “Umm. Yes it is, SIr.”

“It’s God’s choice. He has a plan for you. You haven’t married the right person, but he exists for you. But you have to surrender fully to God’s plan to receive it.”

WHAT??? We are lying there naked and he has brought God to the scene? I was irritated and CONVICTED at the same time.

“What if I just don’t allow myself to find the right person. What if I choose to live my life, raise my kids, work my job and go it alone?”

“Young lady, you are never alone. The sooner you realize that, the better your life will be.”

It hit me like a punch in the gut. I knew he was right. God had been communicating to me in many different ways. I had ignored the messages.
But now.


In my bed…

Lying naked…was a man, a sinner like me, that delivered words that I chose to hear.

We continued to talk for hours. I received every word because in this moment, for once, I had clarity.

Time to leave.

This time I drove. And once again, we were quiet in the car. Both of us reconciling the afternoon in our heads. In our spirits.

I really didn’t expect to hear from him again. I felt as though the message had been delivered, the purpose fulfilled and our paths realigned.

But it wasn’t over. It isn’t over. Things have shifted. Sir now acts as my Dom in a much different way. Each morning, I am given a scripture reading and/or instructions. And I submit. I follow the instructions. I read the scripture. I feel God’s presence in my life, through this man I call, Sir.

Am I perfect? NO
Do I still sin? YES
Am I still searching for the Dom/sub dynamic? YES

But am I a better person because of Sir? YES

So I write this post, “To Sir, With Love” as he continues to show me the love and protection I seek from my journey as a submissive. He acts as a voice to my conscience.

Thank you, Sir. I hope you understand what a difference you are making in my life and on this journey.