I Am Your Master

So as some of you know @myinnerbaby is our USA stockist, they are wonderful people and have just got Dotty to capcon for the 1st time!

Saddly though they are having some major problems and need the communitys help!

THEY DON'T NEED THIS DISCRIMINATION!

PLEASE READ THERE MESSAGE

Had a great start to the weekend ;). This guy has come over twice now, so hopefully it happens regularly. He loved how soft my mouth was and kept saying it really felt like a pussy.

If anyone is in San Francisco, let me know so we can make our own video :);)

After Sir Bill finished preparing breakfast for the two of us, He served His up on a plate and placed it on the table. Mine He scraped into a dog bowl which He put down on the ground near His chair. I dropped to my hands and knees, then lowered my face into the bowl. I paused there for a moment, letting the full picture of what was happening take root in my mind. Sir was sitting down to enjoy His meal in the usual manner that any man would; I was on the ground preparing to eat mine out of a bowl without even the use of my hands, no higher in station than a dog. I whimpered audibly as I meditated on how low I had been made, and beyond that: how low I wanted to be made. This much and more, so much more. How much I longed to be humbled and degraded. When I felt Sir Bill’s boot on my back, pushing my head further into the bowl and encouraging me to eat, it felt like home.

The first time I visited Sir Bill, many months ago, He had me do this same thing. It was the first time in my life I had ever eaten a meal out of a dog bowl. It was such a powerfully humbling experience that I almost cried while I ate. Since then, the scene has played out over and over in my head, becoming a defining moment for me. Which is strange when I think about all the other things that happened during that visit, all of the other ways he hurt and used me. Why did this moment, this scene, become the thing that I keep dwelling on?

I’ve thought about it a lot, and it’s hard to put into words. I think largely because it has nothing to do with sex, for me it represents domination and submission in its purest form. In allowing myself to be made to eat like an animal, I am surrendering more parts of myself than my hole and my mouth. I am surrendering my spirit. I am being forced to face and fully embrace that I’m not just a bottom who likes rough sex, I am a submissive who craves degradation by a dominant Man who will take pleasure in reducing me to my basest elements. To this day that can be hard for me to fully acknowledge; being forced to do so is both scary and liberating.