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This isn't a story about ownership, as none exists in this particular relationship. It isn't a story about labels or titles, as alas, none of us have the need for such things. It's a story about yet another trip into subspace, another lesson learned about myself and my desires. A story about the scene, and the man, that took me there this time. I'll never grow tired of this exploration, my passion for subspace will always be a part of who I am and a part of what makes me a submissive. My first journey there left an incredible lasting impression, and this one only made that impression stronger.

Lasting Impressions

I watched the scene with a bit of awe, sitting on the floor with my legs tucked under me, the rest of the audience piled in chairs and on the floor in a semi circle around the dom and the sub. She didn't belong to him, was wearing another's collar, but her master had given her permission to be flogged by this man. Something about that observation grabbed my attention right away, and I kept my gaze adhered to the three of them for the entire scene. Watching her leisured drift into subspace, only her gasps and occasional moans indicating she was still in the same world as the rest of us. Watching her master gaze at the scene with a look I couldn't quite figure out, a look of almost casual indifference. At one point he was asked to assist, holding a leather implement against his submissive's chin to keep her head up and back as the man flogged her breasts. He did so with the same casual indifference that only enhanced the clarity of the fact that, despite him not being the one dominating her at the moment, she most certainly belonged to him. It was erotically thrilling to observe.

The dominant himself was the type of man I am immediately drawn to. He carried himself in a confident, friendly manner you couldn't help but be at ease with. That demeanor didn't fade away when the events turned from social to scene; rather, it was enhanced by the natural addition of the dominant role. Smooth, dominant, comfortable, and real. My first impression, was a lasting one. I smiled as he silently motioned for someone to place a bundle of chains into the ice chest, a devilish grin on his face that, in the seriousness of the moment, made him that much more genuine.

I watched the man lure the submissive into the space both seemed to be aiming for. Leather and suede floggers falling across her pale backside, sometimes slow and soothing, sometimes harsh and fast, bringing squirms and gasps with each change. He switched from flogger to flogger, laying a hand across her back and murmuring words I didn't hear, giving orders with visible results. I watched it all with the same awed, longing gaze I always watched with when something fascinated me. This was fascinating, beautifully so. I bit my lip as I watched the sub struggle to maintain her position, to follow his orders. To please, I assumed, not only him but her own master. I thought to myself, suitably impressed, "I could never handle that."

My last attempt to embrace my submissiveness had ended in a lot of soul searching, hard learned lessons, and lasting damage on various relationships. I was leery to embrace that again; scared of being hurt, of displeasing someone or doing something wrong again. I wasn't sure I had learned what I needed to learn the first time around, wasn't confident in my abilities to handle just what she was handling. Yielding, pain, pleasure, obedience. She had experience I was only just touching upon, and the intimidation of imagining myself in her place was frighteningly real.

When it was all over and the group around me had once again erupted into the loud rambunctiousness of the party atmosphere, I remained seated on the floor, legs tucked under me, my mind wandering and my heart hammering in my chest as I realized that I wanted to handle that. Despite my doubts, I wanted that to be me again. I wanted to embrace something I knew was a very real and very intense part of myself. I had smothered the desires under a blanket of doubt for long enough. I knew what I wanted. What I didn't know is if I would have the nerve to ask for it.

* * *

My chance came rather unexpectedly and less than smoothly. A friend of mine asked him to give her some pointers with the floggers, since she was still rather new to the art. I was standing there, half paying mind to the conversation when he turned me around, using my back to demonstrate target and safety areas to his pupil. I shivered as his hands patterned out across my back, my face flushing slightly as I struggled to find the nerve to ask for what I wanted right then. I didn't want to seem too eager, and part of me was still a little scared of my sudden decision to bury my insecurities. Funny how conquering old insecurities brings on a whole slew of new ones.

I turned around slightly in mid-demonstration and smiled wryly, informing the duo staring at my back, "You CAN use them on me for a demo if you'd like you know." He nodded distractedly, almost dismissing me as he continued to give pointers. I sighed, chiding myself at my less than impressive approach. "Smooth Seri, real smooth," I thought in exasperation.

I don't even remember when or how I actually got around to asking him for a scene. It was later in the evening, he had just finished another, less formal introduction of the floggers and whips to another girls' backside. I watched him wrap himself around her in a hug afterwards, only aware of the two of them, and felt that urge all over again. It was almost like I was teasing myself with the wait. Knowing how much I loved to be teased, it wouldn't have been surprising. Finally, the request was made, and he agreed without hesitation.

We talked about safewords, he asked if I knew my colors. Thinking only of safewords, I verified I did...but he elaborated that he would check in with me occasionally to see how I was doing. I was to answer green if all was fine, keep going. Yellow meant I wanted to move on to something else, and red meant no, not my kink at all, we were done. It all almost seemed surreal for a moment as we exchanged polite commentary, taking care of safety issues and familiarizing ourselves with each other as much as we could in the moment. I informed him of my hearing impairment, that I would need to see his lips in order to hear any orders, and he nodded in understanding. I suddenly realized what I was doing, going into a scene with someone I barely knew, where we both needed those verbal assurances to access the situation. How would I be able to really get into the submissive headspace I wanted so badly if so much of the control was in my own hands? Not that I expected any less from a first time scene between strangers, but all the same, I realized I might not get too much out of it other than the physical sensations that came with pain and pleasure play.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

He had me remove my shirt and bra, surprisingly not requesting that I remove my pants, which was a bit of a relief to me since I am so shy about being naked, or nearly. There was a TV sitting on top of a rather high table, making a perfect height for the position he wanted. I folded my arms in front of me and nestled my head in my arms, using the TV for support. I tried to block out the people around me, almost trying to block him out, my nervousness starting to kick in. My first introductions to a flogger had been a wonderful scene with a sour note that I had mostly kept to myself over the following months and through the destruction of my relationship with the man in question and the loss of a collar I had never understood. I was worried that the approaching that ground again would result in negative emotions and forever scar my ability to explore casually like this. I realized it was my responsibility however, and with that realization came the strength to do what I knew I was ready to do.

I settled into my little self-made cocoon, my head down in my arms and legs spread slightly, my backside an exposed canvas for him. I was ready, as ready as I could make myself anyhow. I felt him come beside me and started to lift my head to look at him when I felt the soft leather of a collar being buckled around my neck. My whole body tensed up, my mind suddenly dizzy with surprise as time stood ticking on that moment for what seemed like longer than it should have lingered there. I had not expected that, at all. For a moment, all that existed in that room was me, the dom and that collar buckled securely around my neck. It felt so confining, yet so absolutely right and secure at the same time. As quickly as I had tensed up, I relaxed. "Yes," I thought, "this is right for this moment." I was submitting to him for a moment, and right now, this moment was all that mattered.

The snap of the cold chain leash to the metal ring of the collar brought my attention back into focus. I blinked at him as he closed my hand around the leather loop of the leash, telling me to hold it. My focus swung from everything to nothing....and settled solely on him. The first words in my head were "Yes Sir". I didn't voice them out loud, but they were there, and they were instantaneous. I submitted.

The rest of the scene was a blur, but a wonderful one. The soft suede and leather of the floggers luring me into relaxation, a step up to a faster and harsher rhythm that I soaked up and sank into. They felt wonderful on my back, spreading the warmth across my body as the strands landed over and over, back and forth. The double tails of the whip leaving stingy little triangles all over my back and bottom as I struggled to maintain my composure and not move. He had told me not to move, and my only thought right then was to obey that command and submit to the sensations. That is what he had ordered, and I wanted to please him, impress him with my ability to take what he gave me. It was a carefully tailored blanket of control that had started out in my hands and gracefully was taken back by him, all in one fluid moment when that collar was placed around my neck. An artificial means of taking my focus into his hands, to let me know that something had changed. The feeling was incredible, my whole body was aware of every movement, but my mind was focused on him and where he was taking me. My submission was rediscovered.

I took a deep sharp breath as the tails of the whip warmed my back, leaving traces of its stinging bite behind and warning of more to come. I took them all as motionlessly as I could, remembering his order to stay still, until suddenly he stopped, and I felt him move in behind me. He didn't tell me to lift my head, to break position, so I stayed there with my head buried in my arms, trembling from the exhilaration. His warm hands ran over my quivering body firmly, encouraging me to relax, to feel the touch, embrace it, cherish it. My pussy twitched with arousal as a fan of feathers tickled over my warmed flesh. My nipples tightened as his fingers slowly traced over me, his body pressed slightly into mine from behind, calming me in the security of his presence. I trusted him, I didn't need to tell him I was all right to continue.

The verbal communication we had agreed on before hand had become a moot point, still undoubtedly there if needed, but the amazing thing is that it wasn't, the security of it no longer a needed comfort. I didn't want to be the one telling him when I had enough, I didn't want to have the option to ask him to continue. I wanted to submit to the space he was leading me into, a space I hadn't dared desire for over six months. I had submitted to others before, but it had almost always been about empty actions or about my own pleasure, never honest feelings that drove me to obey, to please another. This time it wasn't only about what I wanted, but about trusting him to take me where he wanted by submitting to the sensations he gave me. My mind whirled around these thoughts throughout the whole scene but always landed in the same spot...at that collar secured around my neck, and the leash I gripped in my palm; the first impression.

I moaned, out loud or not I couldn't tell you, as I felt the still-chilled chains laced sensually across my flushed back. Goosebumps pricked my skin, slowly luring me out of the depth of subspace and awakening my body back to the reality. He left them there for a moment, giving me a chance to catch the breath I hadn't realized I had been holding, let my mind adjust to the shock of the new sensation and envelope myself in it. He slid the chains off my back and pulled me up out of my position. I blinked my eyes against the light, my face flushed as deep of a red as my backside must have been. I was trembling all over, not from chills, but the pure adrenaline of the sensations and discoveries. He pulled me into his arms and we stood there, in the middle of the room, embraced. A newly awakened, trembling sub and a dom that defined the very nature of dominance with his natural ability to draw out the submissivness in those he played with. We stood there like that for a long while, no relationship to speak of, but having just shared an intense bond. I was secure in that hold and didn't want to let go just yet, so he simply held me. The collar was still buckled around my neck...and the leash still firmly grasped in my palm.

After all, he hadn't given me permission to release it just yet.

He got me a bottle of water, and we went to the couch. I curled up next to him, my mind whirling around the emotions I was feeling. It was confusing, and thrilling and so many things, but oddly enough, calming. This was the type of emotional intensity that comes with pushing yourself. A form of adrenaline rush that just puts everything in perspective and makes the most simple things seem so much more.

We exchanged a few comments, I was off in nevernever land and couldn't really focus on conversation. He seemed to understand, because he let me just lay there next to him, lost in my thoughts. I still had the shakes, but they were slowly coming under control as my excitement leveled out and the thrill of the last hour winded down to a settled calm. I felt wonderful, awakened.

He smiled at me and took the leash from my hand, unbuckling the collar. I expected to feel a flush of emptiness as the leather left my neck, but I was indifferent to the loss. It was only a tool, a symbol that could mean everything or nothing at all. My fingers wandered up to trace the indentations the tight collar had left on my skin, and I shivered. The impression it left on my soul and the lesson it imprinted on my mind, was far more real.