On to adulthood

The encounter with ‘L’ was telling for me. Ostensibly trying to spring myself free, playing the role of macho male, but deep down wishing she would enter the basement with her friend and take control.

Having such curious experiences in the formative years, the notable encounters with women all proving how powerful they were and vulnerable I was, my dating and vanilla interaction with the fairer sex became understandably limited. As stated I am shy.

So I induced a lot of fantasy. I was not a good student but read a lot. Porn and erotica when available.

It was when I went off to an all male prep school that the ‘literary’ segment of my innate submissiveness blossomed. For some reason erotica was everywhere at the school. I suppose, with 400 male students, that if only one fourth of the student body procured a sordid book every other month, the numbers would be huge. And indeed, ‘dirty’ books were everywhere. It was a prevalent practice (400 horny young males) to pass around the smut. And I read it all. From the ‘classics’ (‘My Secret Life’, ‘Story of O’, numerous manuscripts by the Marquis De Sade, etc.) to the pulp smut.

Little did my cohorts know in what role I fantasized myself being as I read the D/s stuff. But I read and secretly masturbated, as I am sure they all did as well. I most likely fantasizing differently from them.

College was almost the same. Mostly all male. Very little dating. But the reading material was limited in not being available and passed around daily as in prep school. (Believe it or not the Boston Public Library became a source for some really tawdry stuff. Much is there, one must know the titles and the authors in order to procure it).

No, I did not date much in a vanilla sense until well after college and by then my lack of experience was telling. Dating women is awkward for me... having no training... having no experience. ( I suppose I bored the girl at the hockey game to the point of her wanting to cuckold me). I am quiet in my little world of awe and adoration and I find myself fantasizing during rare dates... wishing that maybe... just maybe... my date will boldly finish her wine and suggest she wants to take me to her place.

She leads. I follow. I am to be placed in firm, knowing hands, stripped naked and used for her pleasure... with that odd frisson of joy returning... the delight of knowing I am under her total control... just as I experienced so many years ago with the commanding nurse... she who found subtle delight in forcibly exposing my nakedness to little girls.

But alas it does not happen.

Done many things. The hockey game incident when I was jilted spurred a rash of visits to Dominatrixes. I shied from the extreme but tried many things. It took me a few years to realize that the underlying theme which stimulated me was that of control and governance... the humiliation of ceding such to a women was thrilling. Knowing that she derived pleasure from my degradation was pleasing for me.

But how can one give up all control when one is being constantly asked by the Pro Dom what ‘one wants to do’. The very question places me back in control... which is what I am trying to give.... a gift of obedience to Feminine Governance... and the professionals keep handing it back requesting that I script a scene so they can act and roleplay. It does not work. There is no awe... no frisson.