Submit To Dear Mistress: Readers Share Real-Life BDSM Stories

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Submit To Dear Mistress: Readers Share Real-Life BDSM Stories

I want to start featuring real-life experiences from those willing to anonymously share with me to help others understand the emotions and needs behind BDSM. If you feel so inclined, please use the anonymous submission form to share your thoughts and experiences with readers.

Dear Mistress True Stories 800

We can all play a role in helping to educate others to abolish the misconceptions about this lifestyle. I can tell you honestly that you will get a thrill from writing your experience and will feel all of those emotions again. Enjoy it!

For our first submission (there’s that word again!), let’s address what I have been saying since the beginning: BDSM does not need to include SEX. I know some of you are probably sick of hearing me say that, contrary to what we read in those steamy, erotic novels that we all can’t devour fast enough.

BDSM is about the psychological control the Dominant has over their submissive and the power exchange they have together. YES, orgasms and sexual activity can be a part of it, if you choose to add that to your dynamic (consensual, obviously), but that is not where the basic need stems from. Let’s get a closer look at said “basic need.”
~Dear Mistress


Submit to Dear Mistress Basic Need

BASIC NEED

~An anonymous submission

It started with a knock on her door. When she opened it, I knew that she would see the need in my eyes. The want. We had been talking for a few months and had a few encounters. All of them friendly, a few playful. I knew her at this point, and she knew me. There was an established trust there now. A bond.

So when that door opened and my response to her, “Hey, what are you doing here?” was simply “I NEEDED to see you,” no other words needed to be said. She knew what I was going through: all the emotions screaming at the top of their lungs in my head.

My life was insane at the moment – total chaos. As someone who openly admits is a control freak, I needed the screaming to stop.

No other words were said as she closed the door behind me and lead me by the hand into her home. She dragged a wooden chair from the dining room and placed it in front of me while telling me to strip out of my pants but leave my shirt on. I did as I was told, after all, that is why I was there.

She pulled the chair up in front of me, so the back of it was pressed against my stomach and slowly circled. She stopped once behind me and ran her hands up my back stopping at my neck. Very slowly she pushed my neck forward and said, “Bend over the chair and put both hands firmly on the seat.” I did as she said.

She spread my legs and secured them with a spreader bar. “I want you to tell me how you are feeling,” she said. “Not whole sentences, just words. Tell me what is wrong. You feel…?” She began to circle me again.

“Anxious” I said. “Sad. Stressed. Emotional. Frustrated. Heartbroken. Overwhelmed.” I could feel the tears forming in my eyes. Every time I said a word, my lips quivered and my voice shook.

“Repeat them, again. And do not stop until I say so.” I said them over and over as she circled around me. I couldn’t see what she had in her hand, but I could hear it. I could hear it against her palm.

She stopped behind me and slowly pressed against me. She ran her hand down my back and said, “Stop talking. I want you to take ten deep breaths and on each exhale, relax deeper into yourself. Go.”

INHALE, EXHALE
INHALE, EXHALE
INHALE, EXHALE
INHALE, EXHALE – By the fourth exhale, I could feel my tension easing.
INHALE, EXHALE
INHALE, EXHALE – By the sixth exhale my body felt loose and my mind began to slow down.
INHALE, EXHALE
INHALE, EXHALE
INHALE, EXHALE – I feel relaxed.
INHALE, EXHALESLAP!

The paddle hit the left side of my ass just at the last of the breath escaped my lips. I sucked in air, hard. Boom! The paddle hit the opposite side. “Now say each of those words again. Slowly. Repeat each one until I say stop. Go.” I started…

“Anxious.” – SLAP!
“Sad.” – SLAP!
“Stressed.” – SLAP!

This went on for 10 minutes. She told me to stop and had me focus on breathing again. The entire time she stood behind me with her hand on my lower back.

“Again,” she said, and we repeated the last 10 minutes. This time tears and gasps separated each word. She told me to stop and she walked away, returning a few moments later with a glass of water with a straw. She knelt down in front of me and placed the straw in my mouth and wiped the tears from my eyes.

We made eye contact the entire time, but no words were said. She stood up and again, circled behind me placing one hand on my back. “Again.” she stated.

By the time this last round was finished, I wasn’t even saying words, I was full-on ugly crying. I was sobbing so hard that my legs collapsed, and I was hanging over the chair. And not because I was in pain. No. I had gone numb a while ago.

It was because all of those emotions, those screaming feelings, were GONE. I had said them out loud. I faced them. I made them real, and then I purged each one from my mind. I finally felt like I could breathe.

The feeling was amazing!

She bent behind me as I sobbed and kissed every mark on each side. Then she slowly stood me up and turned me to face her. Placing her hands on my face, she kissed each cheek before using a cold wash cloth to wipe my face. It was one of the most amazing, freeing, empowering moments I have ever experienced. No clothing was ripped off, no passionate kisses exchanged, no orgasm was dealt.

There was no sex, but WOW – it was mind-blowing.


Interested in spanking? I recommend these tutorial books for more in-depth reading:

Would you like to submit (heh) an anonymous kink experience? Please do so by clicking this link to the submission (heh) form.

About Dear Mistress

Do you have a question for our resident Dear Mistress?

She’s experienced in all things BDSM, power exchange, and general knowledge of anything outside of traditional vanilla relationships. With over 25 years in the lifestyle behind her, she continues to live what she preaches and she’s sharing what she knows with us.

Nothing is off limits. NOTHING. Too embarrassed to ask a friend or afraid your search history will be discovered? Ask Dear Mistress!

Authors: Are you writing a book with BDSM? Ask the Mistress! Just make sure you include your name and email address in the question submission box, and she’ll email you personally.

Check back every #BDSMFriday – or whenever it pleases her – for the answers to your questions.

Want to know more from the Lady in Charge? Visit Dear Mistress’s earlier contributions.

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About The Author
Angie
Hi. My name is Angie, and I’m a social-media-and-smut-book-reading addict. Hi…Angie… I’ve been working hard on the magical internet since 2006 when I retired from teaching elementary school to stay at home with my two baby girls. Now, I am a smut peddler. You can follow my nonsense on Twitter and Facebook. Simply, I’m just a girl, looking at the book world, asking it to love her.
5 Comments
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  • July 18, 2016 at 5:41 pm

    gawnryokz1 And despicable as it is, the onus isn't on the Republican Party here. It's on the individual service member. He chose to wear is dress uniform and allowed himself to be placed as a prop for a political event. No one forced him to do either. I'm not sure what the UCMJ proscribes for such a situation. A friend of mine is a retired Army Col, so I'll ask.

  • September 28, 2016 at 10:30 pm

    Come on, you are smart people – Ron Paul and Ralph Nader are about as likely to run for president together as Cindy O’Donnell. Both are ready for the nursing home rather than the presidency of their own bubble worlds. However, I would vote for Stacy – I kind of doubt she has any O’Donnell-like skeletons left over from the 90′s.

  • February 26, 2017 at 11:35 am

    I can’t believe you’re not playing with me–that was so helpful.

  • March 22, 2017 at 5:06 am

    anglopole: Now you’ve put me on the spot!Actually no, I haven’t read that one although I have read some of his stuff.Guest: How do you know I’m not an historian :) I might be.

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