CharChar123
Mrs Tease
- Joined
- Dec 18, 2009
- Posts
- 1,074
For helping me become the submissive I am today.
Without you, and without the wonderful people I've played with and asked questions to and stalked and annoyed and so on and so forth, there is no doubt in my mind that I would still be passed out drunk/high somewhere, sleeping with any guy under the sun, and, perhaps the worst thing, denying the part of myself that I was most ashamed of.
Perhaps it would be better to give you some sort of story, some sort of history, to help you understand how much I am grateful to Lit. Granted, given my age, it may seem laughable to you that I have some sort of "story" to tell, but from my perspective this is extremely life-altering and if you do in fact wish to laugh at me I ask you to take it elsewhere. I sincerely apologise for wasting your time.
As a child, I was a smart, independent girl. My parents were strong Christians, active members of the church we attended. I was the good girl, innocent and quite shy. I didn't know it for what it was then, but I was a sexual little creature, stuffing things inside my knickers for the sole reason that it felt good. Of that I was ashamed. I told nobody.
Then came the dreams. Dreams about bodies, of parts a little girl shouldn't have had dreams about. I would wake up and feel good, very good, until that feeling transitioned into guilt, deep shame. From the background I was raised in, I knew it was wrong. Often in dreams I remember being taken captive, enslaved, often forced to complete tasks for my captors. Yet I always woke up smiling.
Then came secondary school, where I quickly learned about masturbation from sex ed. I noticed the similarities between the examples given in class and what I had been doing for the past few years. Looking around the class, girls were labeling the cartoon girls who were masturbating in the educational videos as "slags" and "sluts". Once more, I sank into myself, telling nobody about my secret in fear of being shunned and humiliated. I continued to masturbate, and the cycle of guilt/pleasure led me into depression. Sometimes I wouldn't eat. I could never sleep. Nothing made me really happy for a long while. During this time I started to go to parties, drinking heavily, at first resisting the boys but then welcoming them, growing more and more numb with each one.
Reading became my escape. Books in the library, fantasy books that could take me from this world to a better, more exciting world. Vampires, faeries, demons, incubi/succubi... My search for this reading spread to the internet. Stories I read became dirtier and dirtier. One of them involved slavery. It excited me, very much so. Not so much the non-consensual part, but the power and dominance expressed by the owner. I found correlations between these stories and my childhood dreams. I was seventeen when I googled "consensual slavery" and first saw the phrase BDSM.
I needed stories, which is where I found Literotica. Researching and lurking on the forums and the story site, reading about BDSM and feeling more and more that it was "right" for me. This didn't stop my shame, but it made me feel better that there were others like me, who felt more or less the same way I felt. I wasn't alone.
Soon after my 18th birthday, I signed up here as CharChar123. Although I was ashamed about my cravings to be dominated, I had grown more confident in my being a sexual creature. That was a huge leap for me, coming from a Christian family. I started writing, not only reading, becoming quite prominent on the SRP part of the board. Behind the scenes, I replied to BDSM personals, hoping to learn more. I was. I was meeting fantastic people and furthering my knowledge about the lifestyle. One person's PM to me stood out. I can't remember his name but he said to me, after I had told him about my drinking and wild lifestyle, that before I could give my respect and servitude to a master, I would first need to respect and master myself. If you're reading this now, thank you so much. You really changed my life.
Things were looking up, until one of my close friends took very ill with cancer. Some of you will remember my absence from Lit. Probably not many of you because I wasn't very public on this side of the board, but I took my friend's death very badly. I didn't start drinking again, but did something worse- I jumped headfirst into a "BDSM" relationship with an asshole who abused my trust. There was little to no communication. No talk of safewords or contracts. He was no Dom; he was a bastard, with nothing on his mind but himself. After that relationship ended, I started to doubt who I was so sure I was. If that was BDSM, surely I wasn't a submissive?
I crept back onto Lit after a while, my tail between my legs, so to speak. I was miserable again, even though I was RPing and things, inside I was depressed. I started going back to the BDSM board, feeling as though I didn't belong. I then started to realise that it wasn't me who was at fault. It was him. I was learning things about the technical side of the lifestyle: safewords, startwords for certain scenes, contracts, collars, SS&C and the like. Communication was the main thing that I realised had been missing. I started to feel better. Get happier.
On an outing organised by my work friends, I met a man. He was quite older than me by my family's standards (8 and a half years, and my being nearly 19 emphasised that) but I found myself extremely attracted to him and his mannerisms. We started to date. Things were going completely vanilla-like, until he brought cuffs and a blindfold to bed. It was the most amazing night I'd had. Afterwards, we talked. I asked him if he'd liked cuffing me to the bed. He said he'd liked seeing me helpless and naked before him. I said that I'd loved the power that he'd had over me. He looked surprised. I told him that there was a word for all of this.
We've been learning together ever since.
A few months ago, we moved in together. We communicated. I have his collar. He has my obedience, my body, my servitude. We discuss limits, fantasies. But also the future, careers, family. A couple of weeks ago, he proposed. I said yes. There are lots of things to do, choosing a new collar, writing up a revised checklist, etc, etc, and I've never ever been happier. I'd found myself. I'd found my Master. For the first time in years I've been unashamed about who I am. To be honest, this could never have happened without Literotica. To you all, I am eternally grateful.
I'm sorry for the life story, but writing this a huge burden is off my shoulders. I'm literally crying right now, because even if I am still a teenager, I am so happy that I'll leave my teenage years in a few months much happier than I entered them. And even if Master and I split up in the future, I still have knowledge. About myself.
Thank you all.
Xx
(the mouse has been hovering over the "Submit New Thread" button for fifteen minutes now. I'll just press it, and live with the ridicule, should it happen.)
Without you, and without the wonderful people I've played with and asked questions to and stalked and annoyed and so on and so forth, there is no doubt in my mind that I would still be passed out drunk/high somewhere, sleeping with any guy under the sun, and, perhaps the worst thing, denying the part of myself that I was most ashamed of.
Perhaps it would be better to give you some sort of story, some sort of history, to help you understand how much I am grateful to Lit. Granted, given my age, it may seem laughable to you that I have some sort of "story" to tell, but from my perspective this is extremely life-altering and if you do in fact wish to laugh at me I ask you to take it elsewhere. I sincerely apologise for wasting your time.
As a child, I was a smart, independent girl. My parents were strong Christians, active members of the church we attended. I was the good girl, innocent and quite shy. I didn't know it for what it was then, but I was a sexual little creature, stuffing things inside my knickers for the sole reason that it felt good. Of that I was ashamed. I told nobody.
Then came the dreams. Dreams about bodies, of parts a little girl shouldn't have had dreams about. I would wake up and feel good, very good, until that feeling transitioned into guilt, deep shame. From the background I was raised in, I knew it was wrong. Often in dreams I remember being taken captive, enslaved, often forced to complete tasks for my captors. Yet I always woke up smiling.
Then came secondary school, where I quickly learned about masturbation from sex ed. I noticed the similarities between the examples given in class and what I had been doing for the past few years. Looking around the class, girls were labeling the cartoon girls who were masturbating in the educational videos as "slags" and "sluts". Once more, I sank into myself, telling nobody about my secret in fear of being shunned and humiliated. I continued to masturbate, and the cycle of guilt/pleasure led me into depression. Sometimes I wouldn't eat. I could never sleep. Nothing made me really happy for a long while. During this time I started to go to parties, drinking heavily, at first resisting the boys but then welcoming them, growing more and more numb with each one.
Reading became my escape. Books in the library, fantasy books that could take me from this world to a better, more exciting world. Vampires, faeries, demons, incubi/succubi... My search for this reading spread to the internet. Stories I read became dirtier and dirtier. One of them involved slavery. It excited me, very much so. Not so much the non-consensual part, but the power and dominance expressed by the owner. I found correlations between these stories and my childhood dreams. I was seventeen when I googled "consensual slavery" and first saw the phrase BDSM.
I needed stories, which is where I found Literotica. Researching and lurking on the forums and the story site, reading about BDSM and feeling more and more that it was "right" for me. This didn't stop my shame, but it made me feel better that there were others like me, who felt more or less the same way I felt. I wasn't alone.
Soon after my 18th birthday, I signed up here as CharChar123. Although I was ashamed about my cravings to be dominated, I had grown more confident in my being a sexual creature. That was a huge leap for me, coming from a Christian family. I started writing, not only reading, becoming quite prominent on the SRP part of the board. Behind the scenes, I replied to BDSM personals, hoping to learn more. I was. I was meeting fantastic people and furthering my knowledge about the lifestyle. One person's PM to me stood out. I can't remember his name but he said to me, after I had told him about my drinking and wild lifestyle, that before I could give my respect and servitude to a master, I would first need to respect and master myself. If you're reading this now, thank you so much. You really changed my life.
Things were looking up, until one of my close friends took very ill with cancer. Some of you will remember my absence from Lit. Probably not many of you because I wasn't very public on this side of the board, but I took my friend's death very badly. I didn't start drinking again, but did something worse- I jumped headfirst into a "BDSM" relationship with an asshole who abused my trust. There was little to no communication. No talk of safewords or contracts. He was no Dom; he was a bastard, with nothing on his mind but himself. After that relationship ended, I started to doubt who I was so sure I was. If that was BDSM, surely I wasn't a submissive?
I crept back onto Lit after a while, my tail between my legs, so to speak. I was miserable again, even though I was RPing and things, inside I was depressed. I started going back to the BDSM board, feeling as though I didn't belong. I then started to realise that it wasn't me who was at fault. It was him. I was learning things about the technical side of the lifestyle: safewords, startwords for certain scenes, contracts, collars, SS&C and the like. Communication was the main thing that I realised had been missing. I started to feel better. Get happier.
On an outing organised by my work friends, I met a man. He was quite older than me by my family's standards (8 and a half years, and my being nearly 19 emphasised that) but I found myself extremely attracted to him and his mannerisms. We started to date. Things were going completely vanilla-like, until he brought cuffs and a blindfold to bed. It was the most amazing night I'd had. Afterwards, we talked. I asked him if he'd liked cuffing me to the bed. He said he'd liked seeing me helpless and naked before him. I said that I'd loved the power that he'd had over me. He looked surprised. I told him that there was a word for all of this.
We've been learning together ever since.
A few months ago, we moved in together. We communicated. I have his collar. He has my obedience, my body, my servitude. We discuss limits, fantasies. But also the future, careers, family. A couple of weeks ago, he proposed. I said yes. There are lots of things to do, choosing a new collar, writing up a revised checklist, etc, etc, and I've never ever been happier. I'd found myself. I'd found my Master. For the first time in years I've been unashamed about who I am. To be honest, this could never have happened without Literotica. To you all, I am eternally grateful.
I'm sorry for the life story, but writing this a huge burden is off my shoulders. I'm literally crying right now, because even if I am still a teenager, I am so happy that I'll leave my teenage years in a few months much happier than I entered them. And even if Master and I split up in the future, I still have knowledge. About myself.
Thank you all.
Xx
(the mouse has been hovering over the "Submit New Thread" button for fifteen minutes now. I'll just press it, and live with the ridicule, should it happen.)
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