When I was 10 years old, I saw Gone with the Wind for the first time.  I was enamoured with Rhett Butler and the way he conquered Scarlett O'Hara the same way Han Solo claimed Princess Leah.  Rhett didn't ask, he took what he already knew was his.  Scarlett needed and wanted a man stronger than herself, someone who could overcome her, and Rhett knew he was the man she needed.  I remember telling my mommy that I wanted to marry Rhett Butler instead.

Once upon a time, I kept a journal.  When I was in my teens, I wrote in that journal, "I could only love a man stronger than myself.  A gentleman and a scoundrel.  I need someone strong enough to tame me, and kind enough not to break me.  I need a man who can ignore my tantrums or overrule them.  He would have to laugh with me and not at me.  Someone who can accept my independence, and love me for who I am - not what he can make me into.  I would give him my whole heart and soul."

I also remember a conversation with my mother.  I told her that the boy I was dating had asked permission to kiss me.  Mom said, "If a man has to ask, the kiss isn't worth having."  Experience taught me that Mom's words were wisdoms.

I took a criminal law class in college and became fascinated with one particular case.  A married couple's neighbors heard strange sounds and muffled cries coming from their house.  The neighbors called the police, fearing a domestic dispute had turned violent.  When the police arrived on silent run (no sirens), they heard the same things and saw the shadows of the couple on the window shade.  The husband appeared to be beating his wife, who was bent over something, with some object.  Thinking the worst, the police burst into the house and discovered that the married couple were involved in a little S/m play.  Despite the fact that it was consentual between married partners, the police arrested the husband and charged him with domestic violence per the laws of the state.  He was found guilty by the judge and sentenced to probation and counseling.

I thought it was an atrocity of justice.  In my humble opinion, whatever is done between two consenting adults in their own home is their business.  I began to study every S/m case I could find with the same morbid fascination that makes people stare at car wrecks.  Studying cases led to reading adult stories led to discovering that I was more than simply fascinated... I was interested!  And ashamed... ashamed of my own curiosities and desires.  I kept my little dirty secret to myself.  I casually brought it up to my long-term college flame, and he proceeded to tell me how sick and twisted such people were.  I never mentioned it again - until my Husband.

We met in our high school years, my Husband and I.  We'd been friends for a decade before Fate finally arranged to open our eyes.  He'd been kind of quiet, shy, and chivalrous as long as I'd known him, carrying an air of innocence and childlike enjoyment of life - in other words, a lot like me.  We were both independent, headstrong, and didn't follow "the crowd" like so many others we knew.  I had a crush on him as wide as the Mississippi River - but we were friends.  After high school our friendship became touch-and-go, flaring up whenever we bumped into each other around town, then dying back down as we lived our lives.  Long after college, two years went by when we had no contact at all.  Finally, when we were ready, Fate gave us a push...

We had run into each other again and traded phone numbers.  We started "hanging out" together, doing little things, just a couple of old friends catching up.  One night, we decided to go to The Rocky Horror Picture Show.  On the way to the theatre I glanced in his backseat, and my breath caught in my throat.  Lying there, in plain sight, was a collar attached to a glittering metal leash.  It wasn't the kind of collar that people bought just for show - it was the real thing, heavy, enforced, meant to be used.  My tummy fluttered with all my secret dreams and desires even as my mind warred, "This is your old friend!  Your sweet, caring, innocent friend!  There is no way... absolutely no way that it belongs to him.  Someone must have left it there."

My trust in men had been badly damaged, and I had been alone for years, by my own choice.  If it had been anyone else in the world, I could never have trusted enough to ask, or to even consider what started that night.  But this was my friend, my long-time, trusted, gentle, chivalrous, beloved friend.  We pulled into the parking lot.  I swallowed, and said softly, "What's that?"  He reached into the backseat, pulled the collar and leash up front, and said, "This?"  I nodded.  "My collar," he answered.  "Can I wear it?"

Oh, those fateful words!  By all the Light, I didn't know what I was asking.  I'll never forget the expression that gently melted onto his face - the hope, the fear, the excitement - or the soft, sweet smile he gave me as he nodded.  We got out of the car.  He came around to my side and whispered, "Lift your hair."  I did so.  I will always remember the way he placed the collar around my neck.  His hands were so tender, reverant, and they trembled.  I suddenly felt that we were engaged in some sacred act - and I was right.  I think I fell in love with him at that moment, that pure and sacred moment when we first understood each other.

Then, he clipped the leash to the collar's front ring and took a firm hold.  The moment was ended, but the bond between us had been forged.  As surely as his leash held me, I knew my soul was tied to his.  We had fun, took a lot of teasing from his friends at the show, but the leash never left his hand.  Back at the car he removed the collar as gently and reverently as he had put it on.  We talked on the way home.

"So, did you like it?" he asked.  "Yes," I whispered.  "Would you like to wear it again?"  "Yes," a softer whisper.  There was a quiet, drawn out pause.  Then, I asked him, "Are you into this seriously, or just like to play sometimes?"  I was still in awe that my innocent, chivalrous friend could have hidden this secret so well - as I had myself.  Later, he told me that he'd felt the same way about finding out that I was keeping my secrets, too.  "I'm very serious about it," he answered gravely.  He asked if I'd ever played, I honestly answered that I had not, but had secretly always wanted to.  I was glad for the darkness of the car - it hid my blushes.

We sat in my driveway and talked for hours.  At the end, he said, "Now I'm going to do something very brave," and kissed me.  He didn't ask, he took what he knew was his, what he knew I wanted to give - and believe me, it was worth it.  It was worth every year I'd waited, every risk of losing an old friend if it didn't work out.  Even as my mind cried out that it was taboo, that friends shouldn't do such things - it was worth it.

The next night he gave me a list of websites that he thought I should read.  The night after that, he asked me to spend the following weekend with him - a night in a hotel, followed by a BDSM group meeting of people from our area.  I was excited, intrigued, and more than a little frightened, but it was what I wanted, and I agreed.  I spent the week reading all the sites he had given me, most detailing the relationship between a Dominant and submissive and a few on "technique."  By the time the fateful evening had arrived I could barely sit still.  I was scared out of my wits, mostly because I was afraid I'd enjoy it and therefore be ashamed when the sun rose, or that he would lose his respect for me.  I was also more excited than I could ever remember being before.

I had good reason to be worried, honestly.  You see, I had always been a shy, awkward lover.  Sex was something I did, not something I enjoyed.  To be quite frank, I had only reached climax (with partners - masturbation was another thing entirely) three times before - three!  I'd seen When Harry Met Sally often enough to be an excellent faker.  I was always worried about where to put my hands, if I should move, how I should move, if he was enjoying it, if I should be silent or whimper now and then (I let loose once with my old college flame and he laughed at me - I was quiet ever after, and laid stiff as a board), things that filled my mind and left no room for simple enjoyment.  No one had seen me naked under good lighting since I was nine years old (I'm a very modest person, and was ashamed of my "well-rounded" figure).  Honestly, I had never even looked at a man's penis.  Oh, I had seen them, but I had never looked at one.  I would keep my eyes averted, and fellatio was something I did with my eyes squeezed shut (on both occasions - yes, only twice).  I will admit that masturbation and I were very close friends, "hand in hand" so to speak.  The only satisfaction I received was found alone, my mind filled with fantasies of leather and chains.

So there I was, faced with the prospect of going to bed with one of my oldest friends, breaking my cardinal dating rule (Thou shalt not go to bed with friends).  I wondered if I would enjoy it.  I wondered if he would enjoy it.  I wondered if we would still be friends when the sun rose.  I wondered most about something that had happened already.  Two nights before, he asked me to tell him one of my fantasies.

That night, he made my fantasy come true...

We went to Rocky Horror again.  Once more, I wore his collar and he held my leash.  After the movie we went to the 21st birthday party of one of the cast members.  He told me not to drink anything alcoholic, in fact only to drink what he gave me himself to be sure.  I kept the collar on for the party, though he did detach the leash.  I think we were both just trying to calm down, to quiet the fears, anxiety, and excitement we both felt so strongly.  When the party started to get a little too wild, we left for the hotel.  Neither of us spoke in the car until we parked.  He asked me once more, "Are you sure you want to do this?"  I answered, "Yes."

I went into the room while he got a couple of things from the trunk - a small toolbox and a homemade spreader bar.  I recognized it from pictures of similar things that I'd seen, and from stories I'd read.  My pulse raced as I began to wonder if we were really going to do this - no, if I was going to go through with this.  If it had been anyone else, I probably would have backed down - but this was my friend, and I knew I could trust him.  He had even gotten a room with two beds, just in case we lost our nerve.  He was always a gentleman.

I sat down on the far bed, and he placed the toolbox beside me.  He opened it and showed me the contents, explaining each piece (nipple clamps, wrist and ankle restraints, marine rope, surgical scissors in case of emergency, chains, and a variety of fasteners) and telling me that this was only a small sample of his toys - he hadn't wanted to shock or scare me with the whole collection.  I was shocked enough as it was!  I wish I could describe to you all the emotions that rushed through me in those few moments - fear, excitement, arousal, disbelief that my seemingly innocent friend had this lurking beneath the surface for years, and anticipation.

He sat down on the other bed, facing me.  We stared at each other for a long while, until I let out a nervous giggle and looked away.  He stretched out on the bed, fully dressed, lying on top of the covers.  Trembling, I rose and walked around to the far side of his bed, then laid down next to him.  He pulled me into his arms and sighed softly - a happy, contented sound.  It just felt so right... We snuggled, we kissed, and after a long while his hands began exploring my body.  I was filled with a sense of wonder, a sense of "This can't be happening!  I couldn't be this lucky, not after so many years..."

Eventually, he toyed with my blouse and very gently said, "Take this off."  It didn't sound like a request, and yet it didn't quite sound like a demand.  Either way, I knew I would obey, and I did.  He admired the black lace bra I had chosen for the evening.  He ran his fingers lightly over the fabric, nuzzling the exposed mounds of my breasts that rose from the lace.  "I like this," he said, "but it's in my way."  Suddenly shy again, I asked him to turn off the lights.  He did so, but turned on the light in the bathroom so he could see what he was doing.  While he was turning lights off he told me to finish undressing.  I pulled the blankets up to my chin and threw my clothes out onto the floor, giggling and embarassed.  He remained fully dressed.

He came back to stand beside the bed and said chidingly, "Ah-ah-ah, no hiding.  Tonight, you belong to me."  He took hold of the covers and pulled them completely off the bed.  I tried vainly to cover my nakedness with my hands, but he took my wrists and pulled them away from my body.  He leaned down to kiss me gently but firmly, then whispered in my ear, "Never be ashamed with me.  Never be ashamed of yourself, or your desires.  Always be honest with me, completely and totally honest.  Shall I make tonight easier for you?"  I nodded, afraid my voice would crack if I spoke.  He released one of my wrists, reached into his clothing bag, and pulled out a padded blindfold.  Tenderly, he fastened the blindfold over my eyes, and I relaxed.  "Better?" he asked.  I whispered, "Yes, Sir."  I heard the pleasure in his voice when he said, "I didn't ask you to call me that, but you may, if you wish."  "Thank you, Sir."  It just seemed natural.  I had already surrendured.

The intellectual part of my mind was going crazy.  You can't be doing this!  You can't mean to do this!  You'll be helpless!

He buckled the first cuff around my left wrist with the same reverance he had shown when placing the collar around my neck.  His hands trembled slightly.  He could do anything to you!  You couldn't possibly stop him!

Another voice inside me broke in.  Have faith.  Be calm.  Relax.  You know him.  You've known him almost half your life.  He won't hurt you.

He took my right wrist and and fastened the second cuff around it.  You can still get out!  You can still make him stop!  Don't do this!  You can't do this!

Let it happen.  Relax.  Enjoy it.  It's what you've always wanted.  He's what you've always wanted.

He moved so quietly that I didn't hear a single footfall.  I jumped in surprise when his hand grasped my left ankle.  He chuckled.  I felt the cool cuff encircle my skin.  Oh god, oh no, you can't!  You just can't!  Good girls don't do this!

Maybe I want to be bad.  Maybe just this once I want to be bad.

Another little gasp of surprise as he grasped my right ankle, fastening on the cuff.  His voice was soft and thick, "Problems?"  Let me out let me out let me out!  "No, Sir."  I heard the sliding clink of chains, and a snap.  I wiggled my right foot, feeling the added weight of restraint.  You're seriously going to do this?!

Yes, now shut up.  I realized that my breath was coming in quick little gasps and tried to get myself under control.  It wasn't easy, especially when I heard that sliding clink of the chains again, felt them tug on my right ankle, felt him take hold of my left ankle and spread my legs wider, then the snap.  My legs were bound wide apart, my naked, shaved sex (as he had requested) completely exposed and vulnerable.  I wondered to myself if I had already soaked the sheets beneath me, I was so excited.  That first voice inside me gave one last, plaintive groan and fell silent.

I jumped and actually whimpered when his hand unexpectedly grabbed my left wrist.  The fingers of his free hand gently stroked my face, calming me.  He stretched my arm up and out.  The clinks of the chain, the snap of the hook, and my wrist was firmly bound away from my body.  A moment later my right wrist mirrored it.  I knew that I was now spread-eagled on the bed, bound, naked, blindfolded, and helpless - the exact fantasy I had revealed to him.

Most of the rest becomes a blur of sensation, with few coherent thoughts.  Hours passed before we fell asleep in each other's arms.  His hands and lips explored every inch of my body, teasing, tasting, and a sense of worshipping.  He made me feel like a goddess, a cherished jewel.  At some point, his husky voice whispered in my ear, "Some pain to go with your pleasure.  Don't be afraid, I'll be nice tonight."  Cold links curled between my breasts, then a clamp slowly bit down on my right nipple.  I sucked in a sharp breath and arched my back.  The clamp's mate bit down just as slowly on my left nipple.  The feeling was exquisite!  Intense, far more intense than painful.  I was so aware!

His hands and lips returned to their pilgrim's journey.  His fingers found my pubic lips, one dipped inside.  "Someone's a little excited," he purred.  I whimpered, wanting, for the first time needing.  I felt the bed move as he eased onto it from the foot, between my spread legs.  Slowly, he lowered his body onto mine, his lips capturing me, his tongue darting into my mouth.  I kissed him hungrily, unashamed.  I could feel his manhood throbbing against my shaved mound, and I squirmed as much as my bonds allowed.  I fleetingly wondered, in the back of my mind, where exactly my modesty and shame had gone - then the time for thought was over.

He rubbed his member against my aching, moist slit, teasing me.  He whispered, "Almost... Almost..."  I think I whispered in return, "Please?"  Or maybe it was only in my mind.

Then he was inside me.  I cried out softly, surprised, as the world behind my blindfold exploded in a flash of brilliant color.  Waves of ecstacy rolled through my body.  It was then that I realized the ultimate, beautiful paradox - only in bondage could I be truly free.

We made love as I had never made love before.  The hours rolled by, and orgasm after orgasm rushed through me.  Never before had I known such pleasure, such release!  I lost count of how many times he brought me to climax in that one, eternal night of passion.  Unafraid, unashamed, released from my mental bonds of inhibition, smothered in his kisses, I moved, I whimpered, I moaned - I loved.  I knew no other lover could or would ever be the same.  I knew I never wanted any other lover.  This secret man, this stranger, this scoundrel, this Master had been hidden inside the gentleman, the friend I had known for so many years.  We fit together as if we were made to be One.  In those hours between midnight and dawn, I gave myself to him completely.

When he finally allowed himself release, the sensation threw me one last time off the cliff to drown in passion.  Afterwards, his weight comfortably pressing me into the mattress, his member softening inside me, our voices came as one.  "Wow."

Wow.  That was it.  That's all we said.  Both of us.  It was the only thing to say.

He pulled out of me, and we both sighed a little sadly, the physical bond broken.  He unfastened the chains but left my wrists and ankles cuffed.  Lastly, he removed my blindfold and kissed me.  Unashamed I rose and excused myself to clean up, walking across the dimly-lit room with new pride in my nakedness.  My legs were unsteady, and I bumped into the doorframe of the bathroom, raising an amused chuckle from us both.

He was covered up in bed when I returned.  I climbed beneath the blankets and snuggled up next to him.  He touched the cuff on one of my wrists and said, "I like these on you.  I think I'll make you sleep in them."  I only purred and buried my face against his chest.  He pulled me into his arms, and we slept...

...As we still sleep, years later.

When we woke, I pulled down the blankets and rested my head on his thigh.  For the first time, I wanted to look.  I watched his sleepy member, soft and satisfied.  I gently stroked with my fingers, amused at the stirring response.  I moved him, studying him from every angle.  He petted my hair, toying with the locks.  Finally, I wanted something more.  Again, for the first time, I eagerly took his member into my mouth.  I enjoyed the feel!  I explored him with my tongue, tasting, teasing, with a sense of childlike wonder.  He groaned with pleasure.  I sucked gently, then more firmly.  Panting, he grasped a handfull of my hair and pulled my head away, "Enough, too much!" he said.  He guided me back to snuggle against his chest again.  He sighed happily, "I'm going to keep you around for a long, long time..."

And so he has.  I never looked back.  This is who I am.  This is who I was meant to be.  This is right.

I am a submissive.