Increasingly I find shafts of light in understanding my submissiveness. This image shows how I feel right now.

A solid silver bangle shows how I’m shackled by my sexuality to behaving submissively. It is a constant reminder, as if I needed one….. it bangs on the shower door when I reach for the soap, it feels warm to the touch if my other hand brushes my wrist when I pull down my sleeve.

I see men noticing it and then they seem to look at me speculatively; women just smile knowingly and I smile back. They will know, if they are as deeply submissive as I, that any dominant person regardless of their gender will have the trigger to control me.

And what I can be controlled to do seems to be getting more natural…. I don’t need to be made to do anything anymore… I seem to want to ……. It seems that I might be initiating things….. but I can’t be…. that’s not how submissiveness works.

So the impetus for me comes from a thought, a wish, a remark, a comment……

The latest idea….. I’m in a wine bar, sitting on a high stool, chatting to the person serving. I’m sipping a glass of cold white wine. A palm brushes my throat from behind and I’m drawn back into your body. I lean back against you, knowing you will balance me

You breathe in my ear as you cup my throat in your hand. You whisper, “Relax!” and I lean further into your chest, completely surrendering my support to you.
You run your other hand up my thigh and my legs drift apart as the sensation communicates itself to my core. The wrap around skirt I’m wearing parts and the two sides drop away to reveal my legs and knickers. There is a rustle of interest around us as people notice what I’m revealing and whisper to draw others’ attention.

You slip your fingers under the elastic of my knickers and run the tips along the exposed flesh of my tummy. My legs spread further, this is such a delicious feeling. You gently reach down and pull aside my knickers to reveal my sex. I see people looking and this makes me shudder and shudder and moan.
“Taste yourself,” you whisper. I slip two fingers fully into my slit and put them, dripping, into my mouth. There is a buzz of anticipation and that pushes me further towards the edge.

I murmur, “Please, please?” You grip my throat a little more firmly and that is the answer to my request. I groan and arch my hips up to meet my fingers. I rub my clit, slowly at first and then faster, spurred on by the gathering crowd of spectators, inching ever closer.

You hold me firmly as I shudder and jolt, making sure I stay on the stool. You kiss me softly behind the ear and this finally helps me cum. I whimper as my orgasm hits and the juice floods out onto the seat between my legs.

As the shudders lessen you swing my seat around and enfold me in your arms and gentle me to your chest. I shiver and burrow closer, safe and released at last.