Her Acceptance as a Submissive

I’m continuing on with my latest Honor and Obey flash – Her Acceptance. I think for many women, the basic admittance that they are truly a submissive at heart is the very beginning of the journey, one into self-satisfaction as well as approval. That’s the first step, but in my mind not necessarily the hardest. I believe I knew I was a submissive, at least in regards to my private life with a man, eons ago. I didn’t understand the concept nor had I heard of the various types of alternative lifestyles or the acronyms associated with them. I alsoThe Leash had no idea that various methods of discipline were used within these relationships. Boy I do now and I’m grateful for John Patrick for showing me so many sides of D/s.

When I learned just enough about D/s and BDSM years ago, certain aspects about my personality started to make sense. In truth the day I understood the tiniest part about D/s, submitting to a man completely, I was electrified. I realized I was raging hard against the machine, trying to be something I wasn’t every second of every day. Being pushy and bossy usually turned into being bitchy. I certainly knew various reasons why, but admitting I needed a strong hand? Oh hell no. I continued to push hard. Years later, when I finally took a hard look at my bad behaviors, I had to admit to myself that my relationships just weren’t working. I was searching for what I thought I needed based on what others told me. I was never a follower, but love and being with a partner is tough. Yes, men and women are vastly different. When push and shove are heightened, the relationship becomes caustic.

Since I’ve always been open minded, learning and researching was my salvation to figuring out what I needed in my life. For women who finally embrace this honest admittance, they are initially in a quandary. Should you try and fit your vanilla relationship into this mold? Is there something wrong with you? Do you have the courage to reach out and try something else? The questions are tough as hell in the beginning. Garnering the strength within yourself to face these questions, and a hell of a lot more, is merely scratching the surface. Peeling away all those layers is extremely difficult. Allowing the inner woman out, even more so.

I’ve been talking a lot with John Patrick about the moment I realized and how I came to terms with the fact submitting to a Dom would mean giving up control in several areas. Until recently I don’t honestly think I spent enough time delving into the dark sides of this, as well as my increasing needs. This isn’t about turning the submissive part of me on and off as I think I originally believed. Being a submissive to John Patrick means every moment of every day – merely in various degrees. I asked him recently if he believed I was ready to submit to him completely, giving him not only my body and soul but a huge majority of decisions as well. He’s seen a change in me. He knows my heart’s desire. He’s an extremely intelligent and intuitive man so he realizes there will be plenty of push back from my end. I’ll never cease being the aggressive and willful woman. I’ll merely be trained how to curtail certain behaviors.

That takes time, patience and understanding. The first step for every woman is vastly different. The time it takes to move from one plateau to another is all about the woman inside, her fears and needs, her trust and understanding of herself. This has nothing to do with the Dom at this point. There may not even be a dominating force in her life. She’s simply accepting who she is once and for all. I certainly wouldn’t have been ready for this lifestyle fifteen years ago or even two. I wasn’t ready to shove aside the brassy chick. Will I always know what I’m doing? Of course not. Will I have bouts of self- doubt? Certainly some in the beginning. Will I have to face my demons more than once? Oh you bet. But I have more knowledge of what I want, what I have to have. That’s an amazing feeling. You have to be true to yourself, forgiving with foibles and setbacks. Thank goodness John Patrick is very patient with me. He knows I struggle at times – but not nearly as often as I used to. I’m settling into my role, Pleasing Himlearning more about me and about his needs. That’s pretty heady stuff. For my little story, I think the dynamics of having her boss as her lover is trying enough. Now that he just might be her Dom…

Her Acceptance

Dear God the woman needs a hard spanking.

“Yes you do.” Jonathan stood in front of his dresser, glaring at the man who stood wearing a scowl. His reflection told no lies. He was a troubled man, one craving power. His needs didn’t border around money or influence. He longed for pure, unbridled control over one woman, one who would become his submissive. Exhaling slowly, he opened the ornate mahogany box, a specially carved possession, holding the few items of jewelry that mattered to him.

The gold piece was positioned just so in on the black velvet cloth, the single ruby nestled in the middle glistening in the dim lighting. With a single finger he lifted the chain, holding the necklace in front of his face. Kelly. The woman had already gotten under his skin. She was formidable in many ways, her brash style and willful attitude caustic to those who refused to see past her armor.

But he knew. He’d managed to catch a glimpse of the cloaked woman, the submissive hiding behind steel plated armor. Tonight he was going peel away the outer layers, allowing her to savor a fleeting moment, one of full control by another. They’d had many discussions, a few detailing her needs, even if she wasn’t certain of them herself. Granted, tonight he needed to her to understand her recent behavior was never going to be allowed again and there was only one way to break down her barriers – giving her the firm hand she so desperately craved. He was going to spank her and likely in front of others. Well, he’d have to see how the evening went. The last thing he wanted to do was terrify her by opening up completely. Yet she had to learn about him. She had to understand the man he was, the one hiding behind his own mask of anonymity.

No more hiding. He smiled as he placed the necklace around his neck, fingering the symbol encasing the beloved jewel. A ruby, so precious in its allure and vivid color, was the birthstone of his mother. The inlayed gold sign of a dominant was one worn by his father and his grandfather before him. Now he was destined to take a submissive in ownership. For a few seconds he stood in reverence, thinking about his legacy. He’d never known anything but a Dominant submissive life, had been taught at an early age he was a true leader. Never had he challenged the scenario or the thought. Never had he questioned his integrity regarding the morality of owning a human being, a beautiful woman of sensuality and intelligence. Until now.

Opening his hand wide, he brushed the tips of his fingers down the length of his chest. Satisfied, he wrapped his hand around his glass of bourbon, swirling the glass back and forth as he tried to remember the last time he’d seen his father wearing the sign of honor. Sadly, he could no longer remember. After taking a swig of the soothing liquid, he eased the glass down and grabbed his shirt. The black silk would suit him well for the night. Yes, the color meant power. Now he rolled his eyes. A man empowered by his desire to own a woman. What would the rather conservative board members in the communities his firm managed have to say about his proclivities? Tonight? He didn’t give a shit.

He finished dressing, thinking carefully about his decision. To show her the bridge of the vanilla world and the one he lived in was a calculated choice. To allow her a mere taste of his darkened world could mean disaster if not handled carefully. However, he simply didn’t care. Kelly was going to belong to him, no other man. He was old enough to know what he wanted, hungry enough to take a chance.

A chuckle escaped Jonathan’s lips. Perhaps he was allowing his lofty goals to interfere with the issues at hand. She was very much in need of discipline. Now he groaned as he slipped a watch onto his wrist. No, the willful and rather misguided woman needed a hard spanking. This time he burst into laughter. “Yes, first things first.” There was a matter of giving her reason to accept her place, ultimately her submission. Tonight was only a taste of his world, yet one with a twist.

Grabbing his keys and leather jacket, he turned off the lights and moved into the garage, hitting the button. He watched for a few seconds as the oversized door rose slowly, then stole a glance at the moon. The full moon seemed to glow in the crystal clear night, stars twinkling even in the hue of the city lights.

Red in waitingAs he slipped inside the Lexus and turned over the engine, he adjusted the mirror and envisioned her face. “Yes my sweet. You are going to learn.” Revving the engine he hit reverse and skidded out to the street. Tonight he had no patience because tonight was the first step in a journey he’d been waiting for his entire life.


“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Kelly gave her reflection her middle finger then shimmied her hips as Avenged Sevenfold hailed the King. King. Like there was one in the world that would or should matter. The thought was ridiculous. There was no King she’d bow her ass down to. A quick glance back at her reflection was enough. She tossed the red dress onto the bed just like she’d tossed the black and emerald green POS before this one. They weren’t right for tonight of for Jonathan. Yes, the man was picky as hell. He wanted her perfect for some reason. You bet she could read between the lines. A quick sip of her cabernet turned into a gulp. Somehow she had a feeling she was going to finish the bottle before he arrived. He… “Mmmm…” Every time she thought about Jonathan she became wet, her nipples aching.

She had to get control. Tonight she was going to win back his favor. For a few seconds she allowed the realization that she might just be out of a job by the end of the upcoming week to sink it the pit of her soul. No job. No great condo. No new car. She had to tow the line, rein in her wicked side. Right now she wasn’t going to think about this. No. Tonight she was going to have fun with her boyfriend, the man of her dreams, to the very one she’d called sir. A shiver trickled down her spine. Why in God’s name as she said the word to him? Sir. There hadn’t been a single time in her entire life she’d said the word to anyone, including her own father. Why now?

Because you long to feel his control. The thought was startling but accurate. Pressing the back of her hand across her mouth, she was forced to look away from her reflection.

Why the hell did she feel this way? Why did she have such fears, the kind the burned deeply within her? Every night for as long as she could remember she’d hungered for something she couldn’t ascertain. The moment she’d met Jonathan everything had changed. Everything.

She gripped the edge of the counter, almost dropping the glass of wine. Shuddering, she took another gulp and imagined a night of passion, one where heIn His Handstook her hard and fast, tying her down as he fucked her mouth, her pussy and ass. She wanted nothing more than for him to be brutal, wrapping his hand around her throat, taking the very breath of her life into his hands and…

Gulping air she licked her dry lips before finishing the glass of wine. Everything about the man led her to hungering for dark and demanding acts of kink, sordid moments of raw passion. The way he’d talked to her today, making certain she knew she’d been a very bad girl, had been fucking…amazing. His essence of power, the way he spoke in such a husky tone, so damn commanding left her breathless. Let alone the way he indicated she needed strict discipline was delicious. Discipline. Yes, she needed a strong hand and a firm man, one who would no longer allow her to get away with her bullshit. A few seconds ticked by and she poured a sip more of wine then smiled. “Tonight is all about play time. Nothing more.”

Humming to the song she danced back away from the mirror, swirling the wine as she gave herself a mental high five. Kelly danced back and forth, enjoying the thumping drumbeats. She closed her eyes and snaked her hand into her robe, pinching her nipple. The pain was exhilarating. Repeating the move on her other hardened bud, she twisted and continued dancing, turning in circle after circle, draining her wine glass and giggling. Within seconds tears were streaming down her face. Gasping, this time she did drop the glass and watched as the thick crystal bounced on the carpet, hitting the vanity with a hard thud. The noise made her jerk back. “What’s wrong with me?”

She knew. She knew exactly what was going on deep in her soul, her heart. She’d certainly read enough about BDSM and D/s relationships to know instinctively she was a submissive, hungering to belong to a man, a single man. Owned. She wanted to be owned. A nervous tick appeared in the corner of her mouth as a bead of saliva bubbled from her lips, and for a few seconds she could envision a collar, the very one she’d dreamt of so many nights. The man in her dreams wasn’t a knight in shining armor. No, he was her Master and she wanted nothing more than to honor and obey.

Huffing, she took long strides back to her closet, grousing the entire way. Shifting through dress after dress she was almost to the back of the closet when she noticed the perfect dress. “Yes.” Very slowly she pulled the stunning piece from the rack, holding the slip of material into the light. “Stripper pink. Hooker pink. Perfect.” The moment she slipped into the piece it was as if her mask was ripped away, exposing the woman inside. She was finally ready…

Mmm… Now can you imagine what happens next? Stay tuned cause it’s gonna get really hot in here.

Kisses and spanks…


About Cassandre Dayne

Cassandre Dayne is the pseudo for the best selling author of romantic suspense and thrillers
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2 Responses to Her Acceptance as a Submissive

  1. laurellasky says:

    I imagine there are many facets to being a submissive. I like the idea of being spanked, but to totally submit to a man scares me. He seems to get all the pleasure, like having his clock sucked and having a woman crawl to him, and so on. To say she get her pleasure by serving him, I don’t understand. Then to do it 24/7 turns me off. I guess I want an old fashioned man who open doors for me, helps me put my coat on, spanks me when I’m naughty, is supportive.


    • You have been a very avid reader and I hope you garner through my writings how happy I am. Serving John Patrick isn’t about crawling to him or about losing my identity. It’s about the fact I feel complete. He does all the things that romantic couples in love do. We snuggle and kiss, enjoy wine and long talks. We make love and play yet I submit to him. However, I’m not a slave. I’m not treated like a lesser being. I’m treat like a queen – the one woman he would die for. I am very lucky to have allowed myself to realize I long for this. In doing so what we share is magical. I’m going to do a blog about this because I think it’s important for any woman considering. This is about love, not being treated like a sexual being or a second thought. I am his first. I am his soul. I am his heart. And he is mine.


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