I Will Follow Her Will Implicitly

I will follow Her will implicitly.

As punishment for an error in judgment, I was ordered to write out the above 200 times with a red pen. It took me 45 minutes to complete the task.

My transgression occurred in performing my first assignment - purchasing a desired book, motorcyle gloves, and DeMask rubber underwear for Ma'am's amusement. When visiting DeMask I neglected to tell the saleswoman that I was buying the garment for my "Boss". Also, I provided the real name of my Dominant to the saleswoman, without her permission.

Lesson Learned:

1) Do as I am told. Follow her instructions perfectly and implicitly.

2) Do not divulge her name without permission.

Rubber Immersion Indoctrination

Can't stop thinking about it.

I thought I was too experienced, too jaded to find another fetish. Too locked in to the grooves that my own desires have etched in my brain over the years. Nothing new to wonder about. Or experience.

Until I had the privilege of HER presence.

I need to rubber immersed. Total rubber immersion. I want an outfit that covers my entire body. Rubber boots. Skin-tight rubber pants. Rubber underwear - with rubber inflatable butt plug. Rubber top (I saw one at Demask that I adored - no sleeves. You cross your arms in front, like a straight jacket. Fiendishly kinky). Rubber hod - with inflatable rubber ball gag. Rubber posture collar. Rubber harness.

Rubber. Rubber. Rubber.

Being made to kneel and sway on the floor. Straightjacketed. Mouth filled with the taste of the rubber ball gag. Sightless. Rubber ear coverings muffling all sound. The room temperature turned up. Sweat glistening on my skin, the smell of my own body, total sensory deprivation. The pain in the legs from kneeling.

Rubber. The smell of rubber. The feel of rubber on my skin. The bitter taste of rubber on my tongue.

Rubber enslavement.

Minutes hours how long? spent on the ground, immersed in rubber.

The occasionally pump by a strong hand that I cannot see - but is more real, more concrete than anything in my life. Squeeze pump. The butt plug grows. I moan. And sway.

Another squeeze. The ball gag swells. I gag. Can she hear me?!? Terror and fear. The shattering of a soul in a million pieces.

How long?

Rubber. Rubber. Rubber.

How long will she keep me like this?

Rubber. Rubber. Rubber.

Until I am addicted.

Until I learn.

"Brutal Rubber Mistress"

I simply adore this description of Herself. And makes me wonder about myself - what attracts me to brutality?

But - a more pressing question. What about rubber?

My fetish has always been for leather. The quintessential Domina fabric. I adore all kinds of fetish clothing, love leather. Rubber? Okay - but doesn't float my boat...

Until.

Until SHE came into my life.

And now I am thinking about rubber. It's appeal. The visit to DeMask. The salesperson, responding that I needed an item made of rubber: "Well - rubber is all we sell.."

Rubber.

Will she addict me to this fabric? What is the process of rubber enslavement?

Is she taking over my mind?

Smoking

The PreDominant Image:

A vanilla event. A party at a country inn. Crowded. The interaction between us public appropriate (but, as always, submissive courtesy is always involved).

We are talking with a couple. Though it isn't obvious, I can tell that they are boring Her. Without looking at her I can tell; that is the wonderful thing about submission, attuning to the moods of your Dominant so finely. A subtle restlessness, her eyes roaming over the room.

Suddenly she looks at me, and speaks over the boring vanilla man who is talking. "I want a cigarette." And with that announcement, she turns on her heel and walks away. Though I feel a touch rude, I have no choice other than to quickly excuse msyelf, bow my head, and follow her.

Though I don't smoke, I carry her cigarettes and lighter. I just need an ashtray - which in this increasingly harsh world is tough to find. I panic a little, knowing that she hates to wait - and hates excuses for making her wait even more. Finally I find one hidden behind the bar. I look for her in the crowd, but do not see her. She must be outside already.

I find her on the back porch, looking out on a moonlit lawn. I can tell she is a little disgruntled at making me wait - but just shoots me an irritated look.

The ritual. I make a show of carefully tapping out a cigarette. Handing it to her. Waiting for her to raise it to her lips. Raising the lighter. Not moving until she does first.

I become her human furniture. I hold both hands out, palms up, and rest the ashtray on them. I stand straight and tall, the ashtray held midway between chest and waist.

She does not encourage talking. So. I remain silent. She gazes out on the night. The door opens behind us, and we are joined on the porch by another man. He stands about ten feet away, behind her back. She looks over at him.

She takes her time. Flicking the ash into my ashtray. I wonder what the man thinks of this subtle display of her power.

She takes a step to her right, and faces him a little bit more. They exchange nods. A small smile snakes upon her lips. She inhales deeply and turns to me.

And blows a thick stream of smoke in my face.

I stand there and take it. Of course.

I lower my head a little. The submissive response. But I see her grinning broadly...

And I wonder what is going through the man's mind at this moment....

Errand Completed - Demask Rubber Pervery Purchased

The perfect weather.

As I dashed out at lunch, the last time I had available to complete my assigned errand, the weather was perfect. Cold. Dreary. An unrelenting downpour. Heavy winds. A cold rainy depressing day.

I had already had a morning of submissive immersion, so I already had the bodily signals of subjugation. Butterflies in the stomach. A slight tremble in the limbs. The inability to concentrate on anything but HER. And - when I walked outside, and felt the dreary cold deep in my bones - the weather magnified the sensation. I began to tremble, my teeth chattering from the raw brutal cold. I knew that If I didn't find a cab soon I would be overcome, trembling from cold and fear and...

I found a cab quickly.

I gave him the exact address of DeMask. How to describe my mood, my sensations? As I sat in the back of the cab my emotions were not all positive. A feeling of dread, a weird fear of being caught, a low dreary mood. I felt pathetic. Feelings not far from the submissive experience.

I gave the cab driver the exact addresss. He pulled up and looked at the mannequins in the window - a rubber Domme holding the leash of male sub, held in perfect pose. I wondered what he thought.

I had been to the old Demask, but not this new location. AS soon as I walked in I felt comfortable, overwhelmed, my heart pounding. Still that feel of dread. Yet I was - home. The smells and the sights filled my senses.

A young woman was working. After we exchanged brief nods she inquired if I needed any help. I said I did. She came downstairs.

I told her that I was running an errand for my Dominant.

She gave me an overview of the place. But I knew I had to rely on my own slections. I began a sweep of the store - both upstairs and downstairs.

So many images and desires flooded my system. So many different ways to engage in pervy desire.

So many choices.

Eventually I settled on the following : HEAVY BUTT PLUG PANTS W/PENIS HOLE, INFLATABLE INTERNAL BUTT PLUG.

Why this item? I sense that Ma'am wanted something not for herself, but for her pervy fucktoys. I wanted something that looked vicious and sexy, kinky to the max.

Just something about it - I had this vision. A poor suffering submissive wearing these rubber underwear. His cock exposed through the hole, available for torment. Standing next to him - Ma'am. An evil smile as she slowly, slowly gives the inflatable butt plug a squeeze.

I love that image. The sound of a low gasp from the sub at each squeeze. The light in her eyes increasing with each pump.

When I was checking out I took her e-mail from my pocket. I had placed a large LARGE image of Ma'am on the front. I made sure to tell her that my Dominant was a ball-busting pervert.

The salesperson, a young woman named Mica, was familiar with Ma'am's website, and gave it high praise.

The will be shipping my purchase to Ma'am.

And now I am back. I feel that I can breathe now that my errands have been completed.

Until the nest task is thrust in my face...

10 Qualities of a Good Submisive

1) HONEST - The submissive must always be truthful in his word and actions with his Dominant. He never lies.

2) TRUSTWORTHY - The Dominant must always feel that she can trust and rely on the words and actions of the submissive. His word is his bond.

3) ATTENTIVE - The submissive must focus his thoughts and emotions on the Dominant, and knows that the quality of his submission is determined by the amount of time he holds her in the forefront of his concentration. He pays attention.

4) ACTIVE - The submissive takes an active involvement in his submission, and does not rely on the Dominant for all direction. He takes action.

5) INTELLIGENT - The submissive is intelligent and thoughtful, always trying to bring both high quality analytic and intuitive thinking to the relationship. He is smart.

6) DETAIL-ORIENTED - The submissive sweats the details and ensures that even the little things are addressed. He know that Godddess is in the details.

7) OBEDIANT - The submissive does as he is told without question or hesitation. He obeys.

8) ELEGANT - The submissive seeks to be attractive and graceful in appearance, speech, and movement. He pleases the eye.

9) SELFLESS - The submissive thinks nothing of himself and puts the needs and desires of the Dominant above all. He puts her first, always.

10) ENTERTAINING - The submissive strives to be a rewarding part of the Dominants life, and brings his capacity to go beyond rote obediance to the relationship. He pleases.

Errand Completed - The Confessions Purchased

I have purchased "The Confessions of Aleister Crowley: An Autobiography."

Given time restrictions, and a pending business trip, I was not able to go to musky old bookstores in a thrilling hunt to find my Domina's demand.

Instead, I had to balance obediance and real time constraints. So I went onto Amazon.com.

I wonder if this is enough for her. That I did as asked, but did not reflect the true spirit of the command. Is it just to obey, or is it to experience submission?

I hope that she is sated. She is a wonderful strange rough beast. I need to sate her.

Errand Completed - Biker Glove Purchased

There is not "try". There is only perform.

I do not have an incredible amount of time to do personal shopping. I can meet Her demands, but only if I utilize the web for shopping. I am leaving soon for a business trip, and must meet Her demands before I leave.

I have purchased the gloves as she has demanded. This was my thought process in making my selection: Follow her instructions (nice, soft, match the biker ensemble, quality leather, unique, size 7.5), demonstrate creativity, and please Her.

I first wondered - should I go fetish? Or Biker? I decided on Biker. I adore Her Biker Daddy (Biker Mommy?) look. I needed to go Biker. I did some research, and stumbled upon a pair of gloves on www.ridegear.com called the Icon Tuscadero Women's Street Glove. Once I read this description I knew I had my selection:

"The Tuscadero glove was designed not only to fit a woman's hand, but also to fit her more refined taste. Internal molded knuckle and riveted palm provide protection while the supple goatskin chassis provides incredible fit. Couple all that with dominatrix cuff styling. Very ladylike in a "smell the glove" sort of way."

God. I love that. Vanilla site - but the description uses the phrase "Dominatrix cuff styling". And "Smell the glove".

PreDominant Image:

Some dark and dank bar, below ground. My back against the wall, my Biker Mommy invading my space. Tough and cool and ball-busting. She presses THESE gloves against my mouth and nose, cutting off my air supply, the smell of leather invading my nostrils...

A pair of the gloves, size 7.5, black, will be sent to the address she has given me.

A Message from Ma'am

321,

I love the images that you chose, as that look is closest to my natural dominance. I am a cunning succubus who knows exactly what she wants. I adore the theatrical role plays involving twists on modern day relationships that end with male subjugation and it seems like you hold that same passion. Good match, now lets see if you can keep up with me...

I wanted you to send me a link to your blog so I can peruse it at my leisure, do so with your response. Also, you are no longer to refer to yourself as steven. When you contact me you are 321 until further notice. This will serve as a constant reminder of your lower status and give me something simple to call you until you prove yourself worthy of a new moniker.

I love the idea of meeting you in a public place where it is not obvious we know each other and verbally seducing you in front of the wait staff, having them witness your submission as an easily attainable treat for this cruel mystery woman. Yum. I have enjoyed many evenings like this at various art events around the country. It is a rush to play these games in front of vanilla people, provided everyone involved is not out to create shock and awe. That is rather boring and predictable in my opinion.

I have a few errands for you to run early next week. I expect you to follow them to the best of your ability and not give me excuses or "I tried". I detest the word try, it is a preemptive excuse that does not hold water. We all do the things we really want to do, so show me how resourceful and eager to please me you are.

Your errands will be three fold:

1. You are to find me a nice, old hardcover copy of this book. : The Confessions of Aleister Crowley: An Autobiography.

2.You are to find me a nice pair of soft leather gloves that will match my biker ensemble. They should be a nice quality leather, unique and a size 7.5.

3. You are to go to Demask and travel to their basement. Find something you think will inspire me to fuck for the next month, ask for their advise if need be. Not for me necessarily to wear but something for me to put my personal rubber sluts in while I use them. The Demask employees are very helpful, tell them you were sent there by your employer. Tell them she is a real ballbusting pervert who likes to mess with you by having you run these errands. I am not particularly fond of their fashion hoods, the heavy rubber gear is what makes me juice.

I expect these tasks completed no later than Wed afternoon. I want you to blog about your experiences obtaining my gifts and the process of deciding the perfect tribute to please me. Gifts may be mailed to [address given].

I am pleased that you are eager to begin your journey. It will be a long and arduous task to keep me entertained, but the rewards are immeasurable. Mondays Journal entry should include what 10 qualities you believe make a good submissive.

In Rubber,
[ma'am]

Lessons Learned

1) "Okay" is never an acceptable response.

2) Do not speak when Ma'am is speaking; do not interrupt Her.

3) "I tried" is not acceptable.

Weekend Thoughts

Too many to mention.

And not enough time to go into detail....

So. An image fragment...

An Italian pastry cafe in a beach community. A light rain drizzles outside. This is the morning after, after a night of unrelenting male subjugation and breathtaking pervy degredation. We are slipping back into a semblance of normalcy. It is the comedown after an incredible high, simply relaxing and easing into the day. Despite the mood and the public environment, male submissive courtesy is still employed.

I am standing before Ma'am at the cafe counter. I hold her espresso plate and cup for her, and she lifts the cup and sips, and returns it (despite the fact that a serviceable counter is just a foot away). Or she motions to put down the plate and cup and to lift another plate, this one holding a delicious pastry. Our actions are subtle.

As she takes a bite of pastry I see her eyes flicker to the right and behind me. I immediately sense a conversation behind me. Two women. I hear ..."the Boss..." spoken, but the women are whispering.

Another voice. Same table. "...yeah, but he seems to like it..."

A feeling of immeasurable happiness passes over me.

Ma'am

Today was a new beginning.

I made contact with her. Ma'am. I sounded so stupid on the phone. Nervous. At one point I babbled on, and talked over her. She verbally smacked me down. I am still reeling. I wonder if I made a good impression. I tried. But I was so overwhelmed speaking with her.

She told me to 1) start a new blog with the title - betkaslave321, 2) e-mail that I have done so, 3) explain what drove me to her site, and 4) discuss some photos that stirred my soul.

I love that - a slave name given be her. betkaslave321. I have started a new e-mail address with that name. I love to be branded that way.

She knows my situation. And knew if I had the time, I would write a great deal more - today I must be brief. But - the most important thing is to OBEY HER COMMANDS.

What drove me to her website was the restless search for a Dominant Presence that lurks in the sub's soul. What pinned me to her was stumbling upon her stunning imagery, her gorgeous wordplay, her natural Dominant presence. I was enamored. It started then. And it continues now.

What struck me about the wealth of fetish imagery on her site. A few images sang to me - more importantly, they smacked me across the face and ordered me to pay attention.

Like the School Teacher. Officer. Biker Daddy.

I adored them. Tough. Uncompromising.

An image to leave her with, before the I leave for the weekend....

Biker Daddy is the grounding image. We are in a dark underground bar, low and sleazy lights. I see you across the way. And you take my breath away. I am scared but totally drawn. You look so tough and androgynous. So hot.

You catch me looking at you. My knees give way when you put down your drink and saunter towards me. It is the first look into THOSE EYES, and my stomach explodes with adrenaline. I feel so meek and mild when you stand next to me. I adore the way your eyes look me up and down, eating me up.

"So. What are you doing here. Looking for your Mommy?"

You touch my upper arm like you own me. You shoot me a look that says - don't fuck with me.

I blush and stammer, and look down. I seem to melt a little towards you...
--------------------
Wow. Love that imagery.

Goodbye Ma'am enjoy your weekend.

And so it begins...

Greetings. This is my first post.

Today I petitioned a wonderful Woman of Dominance in a plea for consideration to be her submissive. She agreed to continue, subject to my meeting her expectations. This blog is part of what she requires.

Thank you, Ma'am, for your consideration.