Submission as a Gift

BLoved

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It appears there is some confusion about this topic.

The way I originally described it, the trust of a submissive is a gift for her to give to whomever she chooses.

She is trusting someone with her life/body/future/emotional well-being through her submission.

The more she values herself, the more she will value this gift and the more selective she will be when she chooses to give it.

The more she hands this gift around to any Tom, Dick and Harry the less that gift has meaning.

The more selective she is, the more she will invest in determining whether someone can handle the gift she has to give, the better her choice and the more likely she is to be treated with respect and love.

"Submission as a gift" is a metaphor for the submissive who is confident in herself and what she has to offer.
 
So I have questions In your mind, perhaps even on a subconscious level, was Beloved a "whore" for lack of a better word? Because she gave her gifts to two other Masters before she moved in with you?

And now that you have started another search before the ink was dry on the metaphorical casual divorce papers, would you only be happy with an unblemished "bdsm virgin?"

Given your disdain for "casual" women, perhaps you should try a vanilla dating site? You could post Part one in your profile. Some lady in Canada might eat that stuff up.
 
It would have to be a normal everyday virgin, as any sexual relationship that doesn't last a lifetime is 'casual' under BLoved Rules and Regulations.
 
The Gift Of Submission
Author: sinamin{R} © 2000



Recently, I was part of a discussion wherein the focus topic was the question of whether or not submission is a gift. A dominant in the discussion put forth a very logical argument based on the following premise: "if your submission is a natural imperative to you, if you simply couldn't be you without it, then you are essentially submitting to your own nature. At best this would make it a gift to *yourself*." In essence, He is saying that submission is not a gift if that submission is the acting out of your innate nature.
I thought about this for some time, vacillating between agreeing with this comment and disagreeing with it. During this reverie, something dawned on me that made me understand that for my Master, my submission is truly a gift, regardless of the logic of the above stated argument.
When at storm’s end, I see a rainbow, a radiant spectrum of color arching through the sky, my eyes light up in delight at the vision and my soul rejoices at the wonder of the palette presented for my viewing. At that moment, I perceive the sighting of the rainbow as a gift to my senses.

The rainbow is the result of refraction of the sun’s rays in raindrops or mist. It does not form itself to give you or I a gift, it is merely submitting to natural imperative of nature’s laws. However, regardless of the fact that the phenomena is a natural one and not created especially for me, not formed for the pleasure that it gives me, it does not change the fact that I receive it as a gift.

When I gave birth to my children and heard their first cries as they took that first breath of life, I perceived those sounds to be a gift to my ears, evidence that they were well and alive, bringing the gift of peace to my heart.

When those first cries of life emanate from my child, my child does not proffer them as a gift to me. Those cries are the result of his dissatisfaction with his new surroundings, the shock of the cold air replacing the warm amniotic fluid he has been bathed in and the indignity of being held upside down and spanked on his bottom eliciting pain and displeasure. He does not cry to give me a gift, he has no thought of the pleasure I will derive from hearing his crying, or the gift of relief it gives me. Nonetheless, to me, hearing that cry is a gift.

When I am standing behind someone holding a small child, a child whose head is resting on their shoulder with eyes fixed upon me, and that child suddenly smiles at me shyly, my lips automatically curve into a smile as a feeling of warmth courses through me. I perceive that smile to be a gift.

This child does not smile at me to please me. This child does not consider his smile a gift to me. He does not know that his smile will touch something deep inside of me that revels in the innocence and simplicity of his upturned lips. Nonetheless, those feelings to me, are gifts.

When draught has turned a farmer’s normally rich field to dust and his crops are dying, and nature deigns to at last provide the much needed rain to restore the arid earth to fertility, that farmer perceives that rain to be a gift.

The rain does not fall to answer the prayers of this specific farmer. The rain falls because it is the result of an accumulation of natural phenomena meeting in nature. The rain does not care if it is perceived as a gift nonetheless, to the farmer with the arid field, the rain is a blessing and is received as a gift from nature.

So it is with my submission. I do not have to perceive my submission to be a gift, for I am doing what I was born to do, allowing my innate nature to manifest itself in the most natural of ways.

However, when my Master looks down at my kneeling form and sees my eyes lowered in respect, my back straight and my breasts jutting proudly, my body naked for His pleasure, I touch something deep inside of Him and a light fills His soul. While my submission in this manner to Him is merely the result of my innate submissive nature pleasing itself, He in fact receives this and perceives it as a gift and is pleased.

When I submit my body for His use and for His pleasure, I am in fact submitting to my nature, allowing my innate essence to be manifest. When I allow Him to find His pleasure in bringing me pain, again I am submitting to my own nature. He however, perceives this submission as a gift, deriving great pleasure from my surrender of my body to His will and His whims, delighting in His dominion over me.

A gift, need not be something that the giver intends to proffer as a present. How many of U/us have received a present that W/we did not care for, want, like or enjoy? The receiver, regardless of what the giver intended, does certainly not perceive these presents, as gifts. Whether or not something is a gift is determined not by the person giving but rather, determined by how the recipient perceives that which they have received. It is not reliant upon whether or not the gift is the resultant manifestation of a natural phenomenon or the acting out of our innate nature. It is a gift if the receiver perceives it to be such, and in that manner and for that reason, my submission to my Master is a gift, one I give to Him every day.

http://www.leathernroses.com/submission/giftsub.htm
 
The Imagined Gift Of Submission
Author: Screamer © 1998



I’m not going to say I’ve always been into BDSM. I am, however, going to say that my earliest fantasies were such that would lead me to believe I knew along that this was the kind of lifestyle I wanted. I can remember being about seven or eight, and shutting myself into my closet. I would pretend I was the
kidnapped princess, and that the thieves that had captured me wanted me to do all sorts of ‘things’ with them. Now, at seven or eight, I didn’t know what ‘things’ they meant, but I certainly knew what part of my body they were going to do them to. I would spend hours in that closet.
I think that’s when my parents started to worry.

Now, at the ripe old age of 33, here I am. I am a submissive with a wonderful Dominant. I am a Top, beginning explorations of dominating others. I am a stepmother, a computer geek, a great cook, and a housecleaner for four. In addition, I run a BDSM website, write fiction and non-fiction, and spend a great
deal of time sending and answering email.

My submission is not a gift to anyone but myself.

When you bloom and blossom in the on-line community, (as opposed to those who discover BDSM before they got a computer) the way I did, you begin with very certain beliefs. You start out thinking that when you submit to a Dominant, you’re giving him some great gift, and for that you should be cherished, loved and held above any other life form on the planet. You want him or her to use you to satiate his or her desires, but you want them to do so in such a manner that elevates your status. You want to be owned by someone who appreciates this gift of submission you offer them.

Right?

HA !

I’ve been arguing this theory in the online community for years. It does me no good. People are going to see it as they wish to see it. The plan, simple fact of the matter is this: If a submissive is allowing the Dominant to do things to/for/with her, she obviously wants to do them as well, correct? Maybe not in such a
literal way, but in an emotional way.

I know that when I take a hand spanking from Mark, I am most certainly NOT enjoying the pain from it. I hate hand spankings. They hurt. I can’t eroticize that one little iota. However, I continue to take them, and after the pain is over, I’m happy that I did. Why?

Did I give him a gift of submission? Did I take it out of pure selflessness?

No. I did it because he likes it, and because giving your partner something he likes, even when you don’t, is part of any healthy relationship. I do get something out of it, though. I get the pleasure of pleasing him. I get the happiness I feel when I look at him when it’s over, and I see the pride and love in his eyes for me. I get to make him happy.

If it’s a gift for either of us, it’s for both of us.

Mark doesn’t always like romantic movies. But he’ll watch them sometimes, with and for me. Is that a gift? No. Because usually when it’s over, he turns on something with Steven Segall in it, and we watch that together.

That’s an exchange.

Not a gift.

Okay, maybe a gift exchange.

I think all this talk about ‘the gift of submission’ irks me the way that it does, is that it goes against what I feel submission is. It makes it appear as if the Dominant owes you something. As if you’re doing something without any thought to your own needs, wishes, and desires.

That’s not true. You wouldn’t be a submissive if you didn’t want to be one. You’re doing what feels good and natural to you. You’re not making any sacrifices that you didn’t sign on to make. And you’re not doing anything different than our mothers and fathers before us did. You’re giving something to get something in return.

Relationships that last are giving relationships. This is true in vanilla as well as the kink community. Your mother liked tearjerker movies, your father liked westerns. I’m imagining that if they survived the curve and have stayed married all these years, it’s because they did a lot of compromising and giving to each
other.

BDSM is no different.

The Dominant gives his dominance. The submissive gives her submission. The two feed off of each other, making the other and their own stronger and more meaningful over time. Two pieces of the same puzzle, drawn together by some invisible force that allows each half to be in their natural state, and allows the
other half the opportunity to be in theirs.

That’s all there is to it.

I worry about submissives that hold their ‘gift’ in their lap, saving it for a perfect Dominant. I worry about them because as long as they keep thinking of their chosen lifestyle as a gift, they’re going to continue to sit there with it – alone. I don’t know about anyone else, but the last thing I want kneeling in front of me is a submissive who thinks that he or she is doing me some great favor by being there for me to dominate. I don’t need favors. I need a strong, proud submissive. Someone who looks to me as I look to them for making an intimate connection into this lifestyle we have chosen to call our own.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that submission should not be cherished. What I’m trying to get across is that it should be just as cherished as Dominance. I mean, come on. What good does your submission do you if you keep it all to yourself, and don’t share it with a Dominant? And the reverse is
true as well. It’s reciprocation – nothing more, nothing less.

I’m not about to put myself up on a pedestal and proclaim that I am a submissive, and should be treated with the utmost respect and love because I submit. I’m not going to elevate myself to a level that makes me seem better or more holy. Why? Because I’m not. I’m doing exactly what I want to be doing, and with whom I want to be doing it with.

And I can give as well as I get. And if you’re not doing something that ‘does’ it for you in the long run, you’re doing the wrong damn thing.

I give that gift to myself.

http://www.leathernroses.com/submission/imaginedgift.htm
 
Sinamin gets it, Screamer doesn't.

You start out thinking that when you submit to a Dominant, you’re giving him some great gift, and for that you should be cherished, loved and held above any other life form on the planet. You want him or her to use you to satiate his or her desires, but you want them to do so in such a manner that elevates your status. You want to be owned by someone who appreciates this gift of submission you offer them.

That isn't going to work, for the simple reason that not all who claim to be dominant are trustworthy, nor should they be expected to be trustworthy just because they are given trust.

"Submission as a gift" is not a bartering tool, to be exchanged for whatever you wish. It places no burden upon anyone to give anything back. A dominant is not suddenly going to feel they owe trustworthiness because they're trusted.

"Submission as a gift" is about recognizing that trust doesn't come cheap, and is misplaced if given to someone whose lack of trustworthiness doesn't warrant such a gift. It is about protecting one's submissive nature from those who would exploit it, protecting that gift as something precious for the person who will understand it and respect it ... the person whose trustworthiness deserves such a gift.

--

I worry about submissives that hold their ‘gift’ in their lap, saving it for a perfect Dominant.

It isn't about saving it for a "perfect Dominant".

It is about saving it for a dominant who is perfect for the submissive, one who recognizes the value of trustworthiness, honesty, loyalty, commitment ... a dominant who recognizes that in this world trust doesn't come easily for anyone, and is even harder when it involves submission.

Someone who is going to value the trust given as much as the one who gives the trust.

--

I’m not about to put myself up on a pedestal and proclaim that I am a submissive, and should be treated with the utmost respect and love because I submit. I’m not going to elevate myself to a level that makes me seem better or more holy.

I don't think anyone need do any of these things to have a healthy self-esteem and to value the trust she has to give. Nor should anyone feel a need to place themselves on a pedestal to make a choice to give their trust to one who is trustworthy, rather than the first person to come along.

I am sure for those with low self-esteem it may be tempting to depict those with a healthy self-esteem in such a manner. If you are desperate for attention it is easy to lower one's standards to get it, and those who maintain high standards may appear to be putting themselves on pedestals.

But placing a value on trust and trustworthiness is in no way foolish or vain.

It just makes sense.
 
What about Dominance?

Does it cheapen your gift that you want to shine the light on every little wayward dove no matter who she is?

Isn't that kind of whorish?
 
I tried to give You my fucking gift. I fucking tried.

Do You even remember? You, booze-sodden down at Darla's Casual Lounge, sharing nasty hacking laughs with Smitty and Pisspot and Fang, useless fuckers you called your "Archangels of True Love." God, You were a sight. But i loved You more than i loved my dignity. Face down on the bar for so long Your rancid beard had sponged 3 pints of spilled brew and the barkeep tossing You change for helping mop up.

i came in from the bitter night, snow still swirling in my locks.

To give You my gift.

It's all i wanted.

All i had dreamed about for months.

i had crafted a purple and brown polka-dotted wrapping paper/bow ensemble that encircled my taut torso. my erect member enshrined with glorious bunting. Your gift. Yours. i ignored the taunts and the heaves of broken bottles as i walked toward You.

"Here i am," i said softly, eyes cast downward, as Pisspot leered. "i give You the gift of my submission. And some cheese. A whole wheel of delicious Gouda cheese. For You. And also, these scented markers that smell like tropical fruits. i give You all of these, completely and utterly."

i held out the cheese and markers in one hand and gripped my ornamented organ with the other. And You vomited. You extinguished my loveflame with the acidic contents of Your stomach.

Don't talk to me of gifts.
 
I tried to give You my fucking gift. I fucking tried.

Do You even remember? You, booze-sodden down at Darla's Casual Lounge, sharing nasty hacking laughs with Smitty and Pisspot and Fang, useless fuckers you called your "Archangels of True Love." God, You were a sight. But i loved You more than i loved my dignity. Face down on the bar for so long Your rancid beard had sponged 3 pints of spilled brew and the barkeep tossing You change for helping mop up.

i came in from the bitter night, snow still swirling in my locks.

To give You my gift.

It's all i wanted.

All i had dreamed about for months.

i had crafted a purple and brown polka-dotted wrapping paper/bow ensemble that encircled my taut torso. my erect member enshrined with glorious bunting. Your gift. Yours. i ignored the taunts and the heaves of broken bottles as i walked toward You.

"Here i am," i said softly, eyes cast downward, as Pisspot leered. "i give You the gift of my submission. And some cheese. A whole wheel of delicious Gouda cheese. For You. And also, these scented markers that smell like tropical fruits. i give You all of these, completely and utterly."

i held out the cheese and markers in one hand and gripped my ornamented organ with the other. And You vomited. You extinguished my loveflame with the acidic contents of Your stomach.

Don't talk to me of gifts.

Gods I wish I could put this whole friggin' thing in my sigline.
 
I am a Submissive Woman
by laKajira

I am a submissive woman. I find pleasure, joy, and fulfillment from
being submissive to another in a loving relationship. I am not weak, or stupid. I am a strong woman, with firm views and a clear concept of what I want out of my life. I do not serve out of shame or weakness, but out of pride and strength.


I look to my loving Master for guidance and protection, for never am I
more complete than when he is with me. I know that he will protect my body, my mind, and my soul with his strength and wisdom. He is
everything to me, as I am everything to him. His touch awakens me and his thoughts free me. Only in serving him do I find complete freedom and joy.


His punishments are harsh, but I accept them thankfully, knowing that
he has my bests interests always foremost in his mind. If he desires
my body for pleasure, I shall joyfully give it to him, and take pleasure
myself from knowing that I have brought him happiness. However, the pleasure of the flesh is but one facet of any relationship. The love, the trust and sharing, the words spoken and felt, those are all parts of this relationship. My body is his, and if he says I am beautiful, then I am. No matter what I look like to others, I am beautiful in his eyes, and because of that I hold my head high...for who can tell me that my Master is wrong in seeing the beauty in me? If he says I am his princess, then I am that...regal and graceful, and if I see laughter at me in the eyes of others, I do not recognize it, for who are they to call my Master wrong? If he says I am his toy, his slut, his tramp, then I am that...as wanton and dirty as he wants me to be, and if others do not see this, then it is they who are blind, not my Master.

My mind is his, to expand, to explore, to know as only he can. I have no secrets from him...for secrets are a thing that would keep me from being more perfectly his. Secrets would put a wall up between my Master and myself... and I do not want walls. His lessons are not
always ones I would seek on my own, but they are lessons he has
decided I need, and so I learn from him. My soul is his, as bare to his touch as ever my skin could be when I kneel naked at his feet. Never a moment goes by when I do not feel his presence, be he miles away or standing over me. If I were to ever displease him, his displeasure would be a blow to my soul, worse punishment than any lashes could be. The anguish of my soul that I feel when I disappoint him is harder to bear than the physical anguish I feel when his belt caresses me with fire. I spend my days knowing that the energy and thought he puts into our relationship is as much for my benefit as for his, and look forward to each lovingly crafted scene that we do together. His part is much harder than mine, and I know this and am grateful that he cares enough about me to spend his time and energy so freely on me. I have the easier job: to feel, to experience, to let myself go and abandon everything to him. I am his pleasure and his responsibility, and he takes both seriously.

I am a submissive woman. I am proud to call myself that. My
submission is a gift that I do not give lightly, and can only be given to
one who can appreciate that gift and return it tenfold. Only to he who
has that strength will I give myself fully, because I am strong and proud I am a submissive woman.


http://www.asubmissivesjourney.com/sub_woman.html

Thought I'd borrow this quote from What does a dom risk?.
 
@ DGE~ thanks hon, just burst out laughing at this, then got asked by my father-in-law what was so funny :O
 
Gods I wish I could put this whole friggin' thing in my sigline.

@ DeepGreenEyes - That was beautiful!!!! :D


@ DGE~ thanks hon, just burst out laughing at this, then got asked by my father-in-law what was so funny :O

I know who the hell you people really are.

Oh yes.

Smitty. Pisspot. Fang. And yes, you, mom. Dear god. Must you taunt me at every turn, picking the scab of submission rejected?! Have you no humanity? No decency?
 
I know who the hell you people really are.

Oh yes.

Smitty. Pisspot. Fang. And yes, you, mom. Dear god. Must you taunt me at every turn, picking the scab of submission rejected?! Have you no humanity? No decency?

No, we're unethical and immoral. Didn't you get that memo? Of course there's no decency to be had.

:confused:
 
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