Happy femdom stories – Miss Eden

Another happy femdom story *happy dance*!

Miss Eden (a.k.a Phoray) is one of those young women who looks at her own life and circumstances, methodically works out who she is and what she wants, and then goes for it. She is one of the twenty-somethings that many of us who are older wish we had been. Enjoy!

Author: Miss Eden

Before coming into my own dominance, I dated vanilla from 16 to 23. As soon as my last vanilla relationship became official, the boy in question entered a depression that led to laziness and apathy concerning me. Despite that, I was deeply dedicated to the boy he had been before the depression. After 18 months, I finally realized, at least for me, that that boy would never return; and it ended.

With a torn heart, I took my first step forward into a life where I went after what I wanted, not just needed, no excuses. A chance encounter online brought me to Fetlife. At first, I was very unsure about what I was into. Thought I was submissive. I was contacted by a dominant male and went on a date during a weekend trip; he was nice but the feeling wasn’t right. Upon my return from the trip, I enjoyed a brief two weeks with a lover of my acquaintance; a bittersweet rebound, as he was very endearing, but so not what I was looking for.

I thought very hard during all this; evaluating my experiences as they came. Vanilla didn’t work. I didn’t click with the dominant male. My fantasies were running rampant and all over the spectrum of power. I met up with a two gents nearby, both being kinksters with no claims to power play. I started finally framing up what I wanted from all the details of what I didn’t want. What I knew for sure, however, was that I’d rather be alone for the rest of life, lonely and sad to tears about lack of a proper partner, than have an improper partner; four years of those was enough. I was resolute. I would not lower my expectations and waste even more of my time. After roughly four weeks of this and that, reading, studying, and feeling out what it would be to be a “submissive female,” wondering all the while if I were a switch, I decided my next assignment to myself would be to research what it would be like to be a “dominant female.”

What I decided to start off with, however, were images of the submissive male. I was also very particular about a body type I’d always enjoyed. If I were going to look at images of submissive males, it would be even better to find ones I was attracted to. My Google searches found very little, and so I took it upon myself to start a thread, looking for a “word that would describe the boyish look I like in men, without finding pedo pictures.” There was this male that replied, in possession of a well written profile and towards the end of it was a body description that sounded very much like the body structure I was trying to find a term for. I sent him a message; a few messages later, he shared that I made him nervous in a good way. He told me I was pretty. Eventually, we exchanged numbers. We texted quite a lot, first, before moving forward to a phone call. He had the same amount of experience with submission that I had with dominance, less in some ways, more in others, and had only joined up with Fetlife within mere weeks of the same time I had.

He lived in Kentucky, I in Kansas. I’d had experience in long distance dating before so I wasn’t averse to the distance, and he didn’t seem to mind either. We chatted about possible options for meeting in person at a later date. We enjoyed our discussions, we enjoyed the online d/s play, we had near 24/7 connection. Even with that much attention to each other, however, it was nearly a month of that hot interaction that a mild affectionate amusement started turning into something that felt very much akin to love. He bought me a Christmas present even on his limited funds and mailed his “application” and a copy of a signed contract for his submission.

On the spur of the moment, I asked him to make a trip out to me. After some discussion of details, he accepted. I purchased a bus ticket, he gave all the important safety information to his in-the-know family, and he came out to my house for a two week trial. It obviously went well; we haven’t separated since and it’s been a year since he first came to me.

During most of the beginning interactions, I was quite harsh and cool to my little darling for even the slightest of what I deemed an infraction. I was even talking to others at the same time I was making my boy jump through hoops. It was because he still remained, very dedicated, even after harsh interaction and coolness and heavy erotic whimsy that I fell for him. After my boy came to me, a conversation was had that made me know that I was not only accepted, but loved for the way I was. I’ve said those words about the boys I had been with before, but it was a fantasy on my part. Before, I had been tolerated and accepted and loved in spite of my personality. I asked, probably with self doubt eating away at me, if my blunt and rude honesty was a problem for him.

Backtracking a bit, my boy has Aspergers; his entire life, he was never sure if people meant what they said, because social niceties were always seen to. For example, he didn’t know if he was boring people or if they were just being polite. For once, and now for the rest of our forever, he didn’t have to wonder. With tears in his eyes, he thanked me for being exactly the way everyone else didn’t like me to be. That conversation is what makes our relationship as concrete as it is. Replaying the memory in my mind, tears come; I was so deeply touched then, and still am.

S/M doesn’t factor heavily in our relationship. The sharp D/s overtones we began with have softened, especially now that we have roommates. The fire is not lost, however, and the love is as strong as ever. We recently resigned our contract, a small personal ceremony in my bedroom. Tears were threatening to fall as our happiness enshrouded us.

There is the expectation that direct orders will never be questioned, but I rarely make them. That I lead is quite obvious if anyone took a close look; I cut his hair, order his food, drive the car, and control the budget. We argue, but a compromise, favoring me quite heavily, is always reached. ^_~ We complement each other. Our D/s relationship is when I hold him in my arms, his body nestled against me, and I say, “mine,” and he immediately responds, “yours.”

___

This post is part of a project to share happy, positive femdom relationship stories.  If you have a story and are willing to share it, please email it to me (ferns at domme-chronicles dot com).

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3 Comments

  1. awwww *wipes a tear* that’s the sweetest thing… the mine… yours… *sniffs*

    Beautiful story! Thank you for sharing! I’m so very happy for you both… or them both? Someone… those people there in the story!

    *claps*

  2. My story practically mirrors Miss Eden’s until she found her boy. I haven’t found mine yet, but reading her story brings me renewed hope.

    “What I knew for sure, however, was that I’d rather be alone for the rest of life, lonely and sad to tears about lack of a proper partner, than have an improper partner; four years of those was enough. I was resolute. I would not lower my expectations and waste even more of my time.”

    Word for word how I feel exactly. Thank you for sharing Miss Eden.

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