Looking back, I know that my submissive nature and my need to be dominated and controlled was always there. Even before I knew that people did that. In past relationships, I desired it, toyed with it and tried to give into it. However, none of those men ever stepped up to the plate and responded in kind. Then there were many years of my refusing to give an inch, I glorified my independence, I prided myself on not needing anyone. I simply refused to relinquish control or be vulnerable in any way. One man I dated told me I was intimidating. I could live without, after all, I believed what I desired simply did not exist. I did not share, I did not cry, I did not submit.
Then I met J. It was as if He reached inside me and unlocked the door that guarded my submission. Despite my sensibilities and all the warning bells and alarms, He had me. Though I trusted and needed no one, I trusted and needed Him. I expected a casual relationship, a mutual meeting of needs, a play partner. I found a soul mate, a connection that transcended time and distance, an addiction.
I am a junkie. The cravings that He awakened in me are outside of my control. My fix can be delivered in many ways. A note in my inbox, hearing His voice on the phone, sitting quietly at His feet while He strokes my hair, cooking dinner for Him. Then there are also the times of intensity. His hand in my hair, guiding me to (or holding me back from) His cock, laying over His lap while He warms my bottom, bending over the bed as He wields the cane, standing before Him as He binds, clamps and flogs my breasts. The common thread in all of those things is my longing, my craving that I cannot control, my obsession, my addiction, my surrender to Him.