We gave each other a gentle hug and looked into each other’s eyes for a few beats. The hug clearly told us both that whatever obstacles were there about being together were only obstacles, not dead ends. We exchanged simple greetings that were loaded with more emotion than the few words we spoke. We were about to enter into a crossroads type of conversation that could literally change our lives forever.
Possible outcomes were agreeing to monogamy, casual sex from time to time, or worst case… breaking up. There was a lot at stake. It was best to manifest destiny now instead of later when we would be more entangled in each other’s hearts. Que Sera, Sera.
But I was positive about one thing; I was determined to be honest and gentle with my new best friend. I was feeling optimistic that we could make it all work. But honestly, I had no idea how our relationship would look at the end of this dinner.
We sat at the side table and between ordering and dining, I remember the conversation unfolding like this:
ME
You wore the gloves.
REGINA
You noticed.
ME
How was your day?
REGINA
Confusing. I’m trying to make sense of all this.
ME
Same here.
And there was some awkward silence.
REGINA
I didn’t mean to pout off last night.
ME
It’s ok. I didn’t mean to freeze up. There were just too many things racing in my head to process.
Question: were you ever submissive with your Ex?
REGINA
Never. He was abusive… but it wasn’t consensual. It was ugly. And I have never kissed a girl before you. It never even crossed my mind.
ME
Do you still like Guys?
REGINA
Since we have been… ahem… seeing each other, I realized that maybe I was never fully attracted to guys. With you, it is fire. I have never felt fire in my life. What about you… liking guys?
ME
I was always attracted to their bodies. I still am. The idea of them always wanting to fuck is sexy too me… the idea of being overpowered by their sheer size and strength always appealed to me sexually. But I agree with you about the fire. With guys, it was never there in reality. But with you, it’s there.
REGINA
Are you naturally submissive? Are we doing this wrong?
ME
No. I’m naturally dominant. My fantasies in the past have me hurting and dominating someone else. But then I like to think about what the “victim” would feel, and so I inverse the fantasy. I know, this sounds so complicated.
Here’s an example: Right before I met you, I was fantasizing about this woman in my bedroom who would watch me masturbate. She was very powerful and had an air of superiority. In my mind, I was the woman watching myself. I would tie up my ankles with a belt and pretend that I was the woman’s slave. In other words, I was dominantly watching the slave masturbate, even though it was me. I’m sorry. Fantasies and dreams are weird.
REGINA
I couldn’t be anything other than your object. I want you to degrade me and use me. I want to be locked up and forgotten for hours until you eventually decide you need some pleasure. I want you to force your hand into my mouth while I’m tied up and choke me.
We fell into a flirty gaze.
REGINA
I’ve always felt like this, but I never knew you existed. There’s no way in hell I would have acted on those feelings with anybody else I had ever been with.
ME
You really want me to go that dark?
REGINA
I want you to abuse me and neglect me with all your heart. I want to serve you, Meg.
ME
Regina, you are beautiful. You are amazing. I’m so turned on right now.
The waitress shows up to pour water and interrupts the flow with idle chit-chat. After she left, we both came down to Earth a bit and continued the talk:
ME
What would monogamy look like to you?
REGINA
It would just be whatever it is… without dating others.
ME
But what would it look like? Would we be gay to everyone?
REGINA
I haven’t thought that far ahead. Excuse me while I go to the rest room.
She left the table. My head was really trying to grasp all this as I played with the breadsticks in the basket. But not even a second later, I was startled to feel Regina’s gloves covering my eyes. She had faked going to the bathroom and sneaked up behind me to blindfold me by holding her gloved hands over my eyes. I could imagine a few restaurant customers must have been trying to guess what our deal was. Why was this woman in leather opera gloves blindfolding a girl in the restaurant? They must have thought some surprise was about to be revealed.
She whispered in my ear:
REGINA
You can’t see love, can you?
ME
(Nervous about what she was up to)
No.
REGINA
(Whispering slowly)
Love doesn’t look like a man or a woman, does it?
ME
No.
REGINA
But my loving hands are on you. You can feel it without having to define my gender.
I feel love coming from you, too. It doesn’t come in a man’s body. It just comes.
She had me. How can you argue with “Love has no gender”? Besides, this didn’t have to be the final showdown I was expecting. Instead, maybe we could take baby steps in our relationship. The first baby step is accepting that we were fine the day before and we could be fine today. Nothing has changed in the way I see her. Nothing has changed to make me pull away.
ME
Let’s be monogamous. Maybe I still need time to wrap my head around the how we act together in public. I don’t want to be with anyone but you.
REGINA
Can you believe how blue the sky is today?
And just like Regina does it, I involuntarily switched on my game personality in an instant. It was real and visceral. Turning on the game is going into a place that isn’t accessible to us otherwise. It is going into my parents’ forbidden bedroom. It is opening the compartment of our compartmentalized personalities and climbing in. It’s going down the stairs into the storm cellar as a child and playing naughty games with the neighbor boy. It’s allowing darkness in and playing with it in the safety of its own world. Different rules apply. I can be a bitch. I can hurt someone and humiliate them, but outside the game they can know I am still a loving, trusted, sensitive person with a warm heart.
I quickly grabbed her wrists, clenching down with all the force I had, and pulled her hands down from my eyes. “Sit back in your seat!” I coldly demanded. She sat down. Regina was no longer with me. It was my object. Her demeanor had changed to submissive and unconfident. “Sit on your hands,” I blurted. She obediently sat on both of her hands. I stared at her. “Don’t move,” I told her. Then I got up and went to the rest room. She was stuck there sitting on her hands, a pose which was delightfully accented by her long black gloves tight against either side of her dress. She dared not raise her eyes, continuing to stare at the middle of the table.
After I finished with the restroom, I paused at the back of the restaurant to spy on her… pretending to be answering text messages.
She was sitting there looking very awkward. A waitress, seeming to notice her withdrawn appearance, approached the table and asked if Regina would like anything else. Regina never moved a muscle or batted an eye. The waitress, not figuring her out, smirked and walked away.
I went back to the table and thanked the slave for respecting my wishes of not moving. Sitting on her hands was such a submissive look. To play with this idea a bit, I took a fork full of her lasagna and fed it to her, quietly calling for her to eat. She compli
ed. A quick glance around the room showed three people had taken notice but were trying not to stare. For the duration of the meal, I fed her bite-by-bite. No words were spoken.
To “vanilla” people (the term for those without a kinky sexual orientation) the whole scene must have seemed bizarre and asexual. Here was a woman, sitting on her hands in a restaurant. Big deal. Ninety-nine out of one hundred people would probably not see any possible source of eroticism in that. But to us, it was hyper-sexual. I was literally aroused in Capaninna by merely watching her sit there. It wasn’t the image of her sitting there that was the turn on; it was the idea of what was in our heads.
In her mind, she was seeing me as a (hopefully) beautiful woman who was literally controlling her every move. The sensation she felt in the “sitting-on-hands” scenario was a continuation of the dominion I had already imposed on her… Chaining her to a work bench while paddling her ass, teasing her at dinner by eating in front of her while she knelt before me in handcuffs, etc. The “sitting-on-hands” seems fully sexual when you consider all that had led up to it and all that was overflowing in years of repressed sexual fantasy. The vanillas were not privy to the whole story.
But there was more to Regina’s state-of-mind as she sat there. She was submitting as an actual slave to me. She was allowing herself to be my toy.
She would tell me later that in surrendering herself to me that she felt more free than at any other time in her life. Imagine being able to step off the hectic rollercoaster of life and take a literal time out.
As a slave who is not allowed to make a single decision for herself, it is a break from stresses like fighting with her Ex about how to raise Tucker. As a servant to my wishes, Regina could forget all the worries about trying to date guys, about feeling lonely, about feeling pain, and about feeling pressure to make it all work and keep it all going. Stepping into my dungeon-world meant Regina could just be with no expectations from the real world. It’s like going into a therapy session; an opportunity to explore aspects of one’s self that are unacceptable to work through in the real world.
When handing off the check, the waitress was still trying to make sense of Regina’s behavior. I loved watching the waitress awkwardly ask us how everything was. Regina didn’t say a word, continuing to sit on her hands. I gestured to Regina and said, “She thought everything was perfect.” The waitress, receiving zero eye contact from Regina, responded through her smile with “You sure wouldn’t know it.” We got up to head out and I clutched Regina by the wrist and lead her outside. I love holding her like that!
Outside, I told her to go home, pack an overnight bag and be at my house in an hour. And we each took off. I was looking forward to fucking with her.
I could have a set a stopwatch for the doorbell, exactly one hour and zero seconds! When I opened the door, there was my toy, eyes cast downward. She was in the same outfit and still wore those wicked gloves. I played bright and silly, “Oh, Regina! So nice to see you. That was some kind of crazy day I had.”
But Regina doesn’t always pop out of the game as quickly as she pops into it. I think it can take a few moments for her to downshift to regular old Regina. (Regular? She is anything but regular in real life!!). I hugged her softly as she was changing gears. I remember the conversation as follows:
ME
It’s okay, Sweetie. It’s just me. It’s ok.
REGINA
Hi Meg. Thank you so much for dinner. That was really generous of you.
ME
Thanks for coming right over. I don’t know if you really want to spend the night or not, but I thought maybe you would in the game.
REGINA
I would like to spend the night in either case.
ME
Come in, please.
Gently holding her hand (not her wrist) I led her to my living room and invited her to sit on the couch and get comfortable.
ME
Can I get you a glass of wine?
REGINA
Sure. Thanks.
I smiled softly and headed off, then returned a few moments later with some wine and dark chocolate. I could tell Regina was still not fully Regina. I think the submissive has a harder time than the dom bouncing back to real life
ME
Are you still in the game a bit?
REGINA
Yes. The restaurant was really sexy. As soon as you agreed to be monogamous with me, my heart soared. As your slave in the restaurant, I was feeling more loved than I could ever have imagined. It felt deeply satisfying to be yours. But that was in the game. Are we monogamous in real life too?
I wanted to reassure her with everything I could offer and looked in her heart.
ME
Regina, yesterday this would have been more difficult for me to say… but today something is different; I love you. I want to be monogamous with you!
Her face warmed and tears started flowing. And mine started flowing too. We were just staring at each other processing all this. And finally she said, “I love you too.”
After a beat of taking this in, we hugged a tender hug, which led to a wonderful kiss. Her leather gloves were magic on my face. If you’ve ever had a picture of a perfect kiss in your mind, this was it. It was soft and pure. We were in sync. There was no need to figure out the mechanics of the kiss or to have any self-consciousness. The kiss was guided by our souls… as natural as breathing.
Slowly, my domineering feelings started creeping in. Even though we were having an incredible connection, I could sense we were both getting turned on and I could feel her slave-self coming on. We probably could have easily progressed to our game without a word being said, but I think we both appreciated and needed the formal start and end of the game. We needed boundaries in order to keep each other’s feelings safe from harm. And my lips uttered, “Can you believe how blue the sky was today?” The usual and expected “Yes, Mistress,” didn’t come. Instead, she just stared and me with eyes that burned, “Own me. Hurt me.”
My hands drifted to her neck where I felt her burgundy scarf, which I removed very slowly and sensually… inch by inch. Making my hand into a pointed shape with my fingers and thumb all touching tips, I inserted my hand into her mouth and tenderly forced her mouth open by expanding my fingers and thumb outward. When her mouth was good and wide, I put her scarf across like a gag and wrapped it several times around her head, where I tied it super tightly behind her neck.
She wanted anything I was willing to give her. I hugged her and slowly began kissing her right over the gag. She kissed back. No matter that her tongue was blocked from reaching mine, it was still an ultra steamy kiss. Then I felt her arms around me, reciprocating the hug. I thought it was pretty presumptuous of her so I threw her arms off me with, “Did I say you could touch me?” Scared of my wrath, she quickly shook her head “No.” You would have thought she was constantly abused in her life because she was so quick to completely surrender herself.
I pulled out the handcuffs and locked her wrists behind her back. Then I stood up and faced her as she was still sitting on the sofa. I pulled her head between my legs with a good deal of force and commanded her to “Please me.” Even though I was wearing jeans and underwear, she immediately started “licking me” through her gag. It was like a dry humping version of giving head. She was doing a great job, too. The friction of her gag rubbing on me was an unexpectedly hot sensation that was driving me insane!
But I didn’t want to go all the way yet. I pulled her head away from stimulating me and praised her for doing a nice job for her mistress. It seemed like a fun idea to punish her a little too. So I scolded her, “You didn’t have to get me so turned on this early. I’m going to have to punish you for creating dirty thoughts in my head. Go upstairs and stand by the foot of the bed.” And up she went.
I took a few moments to calm myself down by flipping threw a magazine. I knew that no matter how long I took, even if it were three hours, she would still be standing
their when I arrived. But I didn’t take three hours; it was more like ten minutes.
When I got upstairs, there she was, obediently standing at the foot of my bed with her arms bound in the gloves behind her back. I loved the way the gag cut across the soft skin of her cheeks. She has perfect skin! It must be that vegetarian diet. I have to work at my skin a bit, but I bet Regina doesn’t do a single thing except wash her face each night and drink water like people are supposed to. I should drink more water.
Upon seeing her, my creative mind starting thinking of fun, torturous things to do to her. My whole life, I have dreamed of having a willing person I could mess with and torture for fun. It’s a dark streak. The sexual thoughts bubble up when I think of being in control of someone in a physical manner. The feeling seems to be magnified many times over with the idea of a woman I can torture. And it is magnified even more because the person is Regina who aches for my control over her.
I removed her gag, the burgundy scarf, and then planted a brief but luscious kiss on her lips. Because she had been standing there in full obedience with great anticipation of what would happen to her next, she received my kiss with hunger. But it was fleeting.
I silently left her to go to my top dresser drawer (my new armory of kinky toys from the internet). From behind, I covered her eyes with a heavy leather padded blindfold. It was like the kind they give you in first class on airlines, but this one was extremely sturdy and wouldn’t let in the slightest ray of light. It was very secure and straps behind the neck. I removed her handcuffs.
As she stood there blindfolded, I secretly took off all my clothes and lied on the bed. I commanded her to give me a full massage… with special instructions to respect the privacy of my erogenous zones. A few other words were spoken:
ME
Make sure the massage is worthy of my time.
REGINA
Yes, Mistress. May I move freely to fully provide this service for you?
ME
Yes, you may. Do not disappoint me.
Owning Regina: Diary of my unxpected passion for another woman Page 9