Happy femdom story: Theriac

Theriac commented on a blog post here about his recent collaring and I invited him to share his happy femdom story.

I’m delighted that he did. It’s super sweet, and goodness knows we need more of that :).
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Author: Theriac

Ten years.

Ten years I went without a lover or a partner. I had friends and family, people I was close to, but no romantic partners. Not one.

I had known since I was quite young that I was profoundly, intrinsically submissive, but I spent my Teens and Twenties running from those feelings, downplaying them, pushing them into the background. I did anything, including being utterly celibate for a decade, to avoid confronting those feelings. I was terrified by their power and profundity, how close they seemed to lie to the soul and center of me. I would wake from dreams of submission, my body thrumming with electricity, close to tears at the wash of nameless and titanic emotions running through me.

Then suddenly I’m in my mid-Thirties, reeling from a string of Traumatic Life Things of the kind that caused me to consider my own life and decide what was truly important. I no longer had the luxury of lying to myself. I knew what I was.

The dating profile was meant to be a kind of coming-out. I led with the words ‘Weirdo Hippie Submissive’ on the assumption that anyone who continued reading after that was likely my kind of person anyway. I thought: “This is a marker, a sign I can leave just in case someone compatible should stumble upon it in the years to come. It could take a while. There’s no rush.”

Three months later I met Therese.

We initially bonded over our shared obsession with books. For the first two weeks of our correspondence we sent giant wall-of-text messages back and forth without ever mentioning D/s. When it finally did come up we knew we liked one another as a person, irrespective of power exchange.

We talked and we talked and we talked and finally we met. We ate sushi together, then returned to her apartment. She sat on the couch and I knelt on the floor, and we talked. For hours. We had, of course, discussed where I might sit or kneel, and mild protocol of that kind, but when the time came, it felt so effortless, so utterly natural. So right.

Driving home that night I pulled over to the side of the road and wept. I felt reborn.

Waiting for me when I got home, a text from Therese: “Having you kneeling beside me felt utterly natural.” Kismet.

We resolved to be utterly, baldly honest with each other every step of the way. We spoke openly about what collars and collaring meant early on, so that when she offered one- my first- I could accept without hesitation. It feels good to be owned.

For Therese, the relationship came as a breath of fresh air. She was used, she said, to submissives who came to the table with a set of boxes they wanted to check off. To find someone who has no particular set of expectations or presumptions, no assumed shape the relationship must take, has given her the freedom to find out, when she can truly do what she wants, what she truly wants to do.

For me the entire experience has been a revelation. It’s like opening up a forgotten door in my house to find entire wings, whole corridors and lofty halls I never suspected were there. I am healthier, happier, and more at home in the world than at any other time in my life. For me, the lightning-flash lies in the act of submission itself, the joyful offering up of service and freedom, body and soul, as an act of love and devotion. To find someone who cherishes that? Who finds the same spiritual satisfaction in its counterpart? There are no words.

We take one day at a time. We have no set expectations for what this might become. It’s all right. We are here, and this is now, and today I am thrilled right down to my toes to be her property.

And there is no feeling, really no feeling in the world, like the radiant happiness that passes through me when I hear her voice, meet her eyes, see her name appear on my phone. Feel the light of her regard.

Calling me.

“Come here, boy.”

Calling me.

“Come over tonight. We’ll talk books while I try some knots out on you.”

Calling me.

“Wish I had you kneeling beside me.”

Calling me home.

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This post is part of an ongoing project to share positive happy femdom relationship stories. If you’re in a joyful femdom relationship and have a story you’d like to share, I’d be delighted to have it. Please see my call out request for the details, and send it on to me.

Happy Femdom Stories Vol 1
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If you like this story, you will love my books of Happy Femdom Stories: Volume 1 | Volume 2

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9 Comments

  1. What a moving and beautiful story – i can quite literally feel the joy and validation of their relationship. For me, acceptance was a long time coming as well but now that i have, the waves of joy seem to wash over me each and every day. Just to speak with my Lady about ordinary weekday happenings doesn’t diminish the beauty of her dominance and my submission – it’s always there and the bond only gets stronger each passing month. She was the One who placed me in chastity, allowing release only every four months or so, then finally decided that it should be permanent (about 9 months now), and my devotion to Her is only stronger and my happiness greater. Thank You Ferns… such a beautiful thing to pass on to us.

    1. It’s always my absolute pleasure :).

      And congratulations on your wonderful relationship. You know where we are if you want to share it :)).

      Ferns

    2. David,
      While my own Wife Led Marriage isn’t what I would consider extreme, I have been occasionally denied for time periods measured in a couple of months. We began playing with me using a chastity device about 7 years back, and worked up to increasingly longer time periods. As hot as chastity can be, we’ve actually discussed the subject of permanent denial for me. I think chastity play can actually be an icy slope, at least for some couples.

  2. While these are all nice and that, have you considered doing a car crash relationship series for us more cynical types who revel in another’s misery? Err asking for a friend like. . .
    Coug

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