Six Degrees of Domination Ch. 01

Introduction and a new Career

What follows is a true account of an actual Female-Led Relationship. It contains 6 parts, the first 5 of which were written in the summer of 2018, and the final instalment that's an update covering the past few months. I make no apologies for the content. Some of it will not be to everybody's taste. It's far from a cliché 'leather-and-crop' male-sub fantasy. It's 100 pc genuine and describes in detail how two real people have chosen to explore and live out their extreme kinks.

By way of introduction, I am a 43 year old British woman married to her 59 year old husband. To most people, we appear a typical 'second-marriage' couple; past our physical peak but in decent shape, unencumbered by kids, with a comfortable lifestyle. If you met us, say, on a cruise, you might notice our age gap and my husband's courteous deference to me, but otherwise you'd see a regular couple behaving normally.

However, behind the scenes, we live a highly sadomasochistic, unusually cruel relationship. Cruel in unusual ways. We only met in early 2015. I knew exactly (well, almost exactly) what I was looking for. We met online via a fetish community website. We sought each other out over 3 ½ years ago. Neither of us set out to actually get married but it felt entirely right to do so.

So we didn't just drift into this. Our relationship didn't evolve over time out of a 'normal' marriage. Nor was it a fluke coincidence meeting. We specifically targeted the kind of partner we both wanted at this stage of our lives. The fact that we fell in love and got married is a bonus. We started late but are still youthful, adventurous and doing our best to make up for lost time.

I wasn't targeting an older man. I'd imagined and advertised for somebody my own age. However, my husband's in excellent shape and doesn't look his age; full head of hair, clean-shaven, 6' 1" tall, people genuinely think he's mid/late-40s. Furthermore, since we began, part of our lifestyle has been that I make him maintain a brutally strict exercise and diet regime. I decide on his meals, clothes, haircut, everything. I have steadily become a huge fan of our 16 years age difference.

It's important to state at the outset my husband is not merely my submissive. I was drawn to something altogether darker. My husband is my slave. In every sense of that word. The sexual and BDSM aspect of our relationship is important but it's much broader and deeper than that. We both wanted a 24/7 arrangement, effectively without any limits, with me having total control. Something that was merely intermittent 'play' or 'just in the bedroom' wouldn't have done it for us. Even before we'd met in person, Edward wrote that he wanted his Owner to literally 'take over his life'.

When I began looking, I wasn't optimistic about finding someone. But I was determined not to compromise. I was divorced, single, forlorn, and a boyfriend would have been nice. But he had to be the right boyfriend. I knew the kind of relationship I wanted to live for the rest of my life. Edward was divorced too. Neither of us was actually thinking of getting married again. I wasn't naive. Finding my own kinky Mr Right seemed likely to be 'needle in a haystack' stuff. I was just extremely fortunate that Edward was one of the very first men to send me a PM and that I didn't immediately delete his message. His profile had no avatar photo (which I'd required) and he'd truthfully volunteered that his age was older than my target range.

However, some sixth sense led me to reply. Within a few messages I could tell he was genuine. I'd imagined meeting a younger guy, at most somebody my own age, not a man 16 years older. But he emailed me a nice photo and he lived within a reasonable distance from me. We met for a drink and the rest is history.

Our marriage is still evolving, as it hopefully will for another decade or longer. However, an acquaintance of mine recently referred to me as a "sociopath". She delivered her comment as well-meaning banter but it triggered me to reflect on my behaviour and is really the reason I've written this account. I'm not seeking anybody's approval or condemnation. It's simply my own way of coming to terms with myself and what's happened. I want to tell it exactly as it is. If my thoughts prove of any value to female readers interested in exploring their dominant sides or opportunities, then so much the better.

Just writing this all down has already achieved more than I imagined, in that I've only now realised what my overriding fetish is; namely, it's controlling a person to exercise 'self control'. Being heterosexual and a feminist, my specific kink is training a man to control himself. I'm what I guess could be termed a 'Sadistic Life Coach'. That had never been properly clear to me before, until I'd written my feelings down here and processed them. The exercise has already been good for me. My fetish is not a sin in itself. Obviously there's more to it than that but it has made me comfortable about my underlying motives.

It's taken me a couple of weekends during June 2018 to commit all this to a document. And I write fast. Edward hasn't read it and he most likely never will. He's banned from the internet. I've kept him busy or out of the house on both weekends. Dan's not here either. I'm alone. What follows is basically a stream of consciousness without a great deal of structure. I've split it into five initial parts to try and give it some. I've also included a lot more detail than I originally intended, especially about the more unusual aspects of my domination and control. Some readers may be interested, others may prefer to skim-read those later parts (I doubt they'll be to everybody's taste).

The most important thing to start with is that everything here is both consensual and genuine. I'll tweak a couple of details to protect identities. But, because it's anonymous, I can and will be totally candid. Yet even so, despite anonymity, there are a few things I'll struggle to admit to. Suffice it to say, Edward has allowed and encouraged me to be exceptionally and unusually cruel to him. In turn, I have relished virtually every opportunity offered by our extreme lifestyle.

Since I met him, I have accepted the reality that I'm a sadist. I always disliked that particular word. I wish there was a specific term for somebody who solely enjoys 'Consensual SM'. To me a 'sadist' is somebody who takes pleasure in hurting a victim who doesn't want to be hurt. Whereas I only get off on it as a consensual arrangement with a masochist like Edward. With everybody else in my life I consider myself kind and caring. I'm only proactively 'sadistic' in the sense that I've chosen to spend my life with a partner who's turned on by similar things to me. In fact, somebody who competes with me to come up with even stricter rules and crueller ideas with which to terrorize him, as Edward does. We play a kind of SM version of poker, where one of us suggests something and the other 'raises' the stakes, until I settle on what we're going to do.

As I said, we didn't set out to marry. We were both looking for kink partners and certainly a proper relationship but not specifically marriage. However, after six months it made sense to tie the legal knot as an expression of commitment to our M/s relationship, and for fiscal, practical and romantic reasons. I'm a (lapsed) Catholic. My mother and sister are both religious and neither approved of my second wedding. It wasn't exactly young love's dream. There were only six guests with us at the registry office. But by then Edward and I had already developed a deep bond just like any other 'normal' couple. And I won't deny that, despite my lifelong commitment to feminism, there's still that little princess inside me that likes being introduced in vanilla circles as a good man's 'wife'.

As further background, my name is 'M', and I'm a tall, buxom, blue-eyed blonde with curves. But that probably sounds way sexier than I think I am. But I do have a pretty face, freckles and sharp little nose. I have big boobs I'm proud of, a plump butt I dislike and generous hips. Sadly, no amount of dieting could give me the petite dancer's body of my dreams. In sum, you might notice me in a bar but you'd never see me smiling out at you from a billboard.

Although I identify as British and have lived in the UK all my life, my blood parentage is actually Anglo-German and Australian. I was brought up by my mother and older sister. There were no male figures in my formative years. I was born with a high IQ and won a scholarship to boarding school which changed my life. I always dreamed of becoming a ballerina but grew too tall and went into law instead. Actually, it was about more than just my size. In truth I decided I was never going to be good enough. So I switched my attention from what I loved, to something that I was good at instead, which was academic study. Meanwhile, sexually I realised I was somehow 'different' from as early as when I was only 10-11 yrs old. But I told nobody and suppressed all those thoughts. Regrettably I chose to behave 'normally' for another three decades.

I now understand my sexual interests far better than I used to. Ultimately they are linked to power, not pain. Personally I'm not against physical SM and two adults casually getting together for a caning session if that's their thing. But for me it has to be within an emotional context. I'm much more into emotional sadism than physical SM anyway. You can only have that with somebody if a genuine connection and trust exist. Otherwise it's mere role play. Personally I'd feel ridiculous trying to perform as some leather-clad Domme for just an hour or two. It has to be a 24/7 lifestyle inhabited by me, as in the actual woman I am, without me trying to 'switch on' temporarily a different voice, or costume or character. And my emotional tie to with Edward is even stronger now that it was when we married, despite the extreme manner in which we've chosen to demonstrate our feelings for each other.

Background

My fortieth birthday was a milestone for me. I was divorced, single, somewhat overweight and probably a workaholic. I hadn't had actual sex in over two years. My release was masturbating to crazy fantasies, whilst giving off a negative vibe to any real man who made a pass. So, literally back in my own bed on the night of my meagre 40th birthday gathering, I resolved to do something about it. And only two months later I'd made contact with Edward. I was loose around the edges but I could see he clearly fancied me. I was ready to embrace my sexuality and personality in a way I could never have done with stockbroker-types who asked me out on vanilla dates.

I have a full time career in law. I've no children. I won't claim I never wanted children because I'd have been open to the idea. It just never happened. I was married for almost 20 years to another lawyer, in a respectful, caring but disappointing relationship. I deeply regret staying in that marriage for so long. But what's done is done. I resolved to live the remainder of my life being true to myself.

Edward is 59 now, exactly sixteen years and two days older than me. He's extremely well preserved for his age, very fit, with grey-flecked brown hair and a beautiful smile. People are surprised he's not in his 40s. Like me, he'd stayed married to somebody longer than he should have, but also had two subsequent (vanilla) partners before he met me. Over time, we've both developed a high degree of mutual trust. We've also fallen in love. But Edward doesn't want me to actually demonstrate any of my love towards him at all. In fact, he wants me to appear to disdain him, but without actually doing so. Psychologically, he's perhaps even more complex than me.

So he was seeking a woman like me and I was looking for somebody like him. One advantage of age is that you both have a much clearer idea of what you want, and who can offer it, than you did in your twenties. You can meet a lot of timewasters and fakes online but it's a lot more accurate than trawling bars if you're determined enough to take the plunge. I could quickly tell he was genuine. As I said, I'd imagined meeting a guy similar to my own age but Edward's initial messages piqued my interest and when he followed up, emailing a nice facial photo, I decided to give us both a chance.

I'm 5' 9" in my stockings. And I usually wear heels. My entire life I've only been attracted to tall men. Edward is 6'1", with distinguished good looks, broad shoulders and, apart from his very slight belly at the time, he was in remarkably good shape. The fact he obviously looked after himself appealed to me. I'm a typical Capricorn into self-discipline in a vanilla sense too. Naturally he's stronger than me physically which I want too. I don't like physical wimps. I want a man who submits voluntarily, not because I could overpower him. Despite his age I was immediately attracted to his combination of physique, impeccable manners and masochistic need to be a slave.

I've always been curvy and had finally let myself go a bit when we met, but Edward didn't mind. I've seen photos of his first wife who was also a big-bosomed blonde. I made it quite clear that my appearance was my own business and I wouldn't be joining him taking daily exercise. As it turns out, I've also lost weight too and look pretty good, thanks in part to Edward, but not out of any requirement that I try to please him.

We agreed to meet on a Saturday in a wine bar. It was only when we got there we realised that, by pure coincidence, it was Valentine's Day. We joked that it was obviously a propitious date. Despite the temperature, we initially sat outside at a table under a heater. Edward was a tobacco smoker. I too enjoy a casual cigarette with a drink. We both needed a smoke or two with alcohol on our blind date. The evening was a success and conversation flowed easily.

We then spent several weeks dating in a more or less vanilla fashion; meals out, movies, galleries, recounting our life stories over coffee and cocktails, laughing a lot. Meanwhile, we also continued to exchange increasingly explicit written messages with each other, in a kind of 'parallel dialogue'. Initially it was way easier to write down our kinks and fantasies than to admit them to each other out loud. I was worried they made me sound a nasty person without proper explanation. Fortunately, Edward never once required a justification from me. Nobody's a perfect match but we seemed pretty close.

Mistress-slave Marriage

So we now live our 'MsM', as we call it; a full-on SM Marriage. Almost from the start, it has been relentless, 24/7, and both inside and outside the house. Of course, I'm realistic. Everybody needs to catch their breath, a tiny treat. There are certain times I want a husband not a slave. There are moments I can intuitively tell Edward needs a touch on the brake. But they're always on my terms, not his. We never switch off my domination and control of him. There's no 'contractual downtime' as such in our relationship.

I initially had my doubts that Edward would last. He swore he would but I thought reality would eventually get to him, sooner or later. I couldn't quite believe we could actually live like we'd discussed. I took that risk. Forced to choose, I preferred to trial a few months of the type of relationship I was hungering for than some watered down compromise. As I'll reveal, our relationship has become more extreme as the years have passed, to the stage where it is hard to imagine anybody willingly puts up with it. But he does. He was an older man with submissive desires but strong opinions. However I made it absolutely clear I would set the pace and all the rules for us. I would not be topped from the bottom. Take it or leave it. I've learned plenty about my true personality over the past 3 years that I didn't fully realise about myself earlier in life.

Sexually, we took it slowly. I was ready for some real sex early on but I forced myself to wait. While we were dating we kissed, held hands, patiently becoming comfortable with each other's touch. Edward was a total gentleman. All this time we were still exchanging these explicitly sexual messages about what we wanted. It was weird but exciting. One evening I simply told Edward I was ready to see his 'equipment'. I told him to masturbate for me. It was intoxicating. The power I felt broke the ice. Two nights later we made love for the first time. I've used the term 'made love', rather than had sex, on purpose. It felt like that; in many ways it was the moment I realised we could be more than just an online hook-up. Our first night in bed together was conventional sex; shy, romantic, and vanilla.

I was thrilled to discover Edward still has a substantial sex drive with the physical stamina to live up to it. My concerns about a partner's age had been as much to do with his likely libido as attractiveness. I was only 40 and I genuinely had no idea if a man of 56 would now be winding down sexually or not. I needn't have worried. Edward admitted to still being a 'once a day minimum' man with a hunger for 2-3 orgasms a day, albeit his desire for chastity contradicted that quota. Our first couple of months of lovemaking confirmed his enthusiasm. Right from the start, he was never allowed to take the lead sexually. But he was always ready to follow mine. His desire and stamina impressed me.

Quite quickly I grew more confident in moving away from conventional and vanilla. Selfishness and control in bed were something that came as easily to me as I'd hoped they would. I forbade him to cum before I had. Soon I banned him from coming at all unless I gave permission. We explored his (and my) cream pie fetish. He'd also mentioned analingus in his early messages. I'd never experienced it before and immediately loved it. Within a very short time, he was always worshipping my anus as a prelude to me considering any other kind of sex. As we moved away from conventional and vanilla, I refused to kiss him as I said I wasn't allowing his lips anywhere near my mouth after he'd tongued my backside. I criticised his tongue, his body, penis and overall performance. Emotional cruelty quickly became a staple of our sex life. His efforts were never quite good enough for me.

I've had to come to terms with my sadism. I can't deny I take enormous pleasure in making Edward's life as hard, humiliating, and truly 'unpleasant' as I can, in the conventional sense of that word. But my spitefulness is what he desires too, of course. So it's pleasurable for him, in his masochistic way, while I relish his endless tedium and suffering and humiliation. Endless means nonstop. Very early on, we both agreed that we'd aim for a pitiless 'No-Limits' relationship. He still wants that, every bit as much to this day. So there's absolutely nothing off limits, no Safe Word as such. In fact, he has a fantasy that I find a hard limit of his and am prepared to cross it regularly. Every decision, including any new idea, or rule, or punishment we try, is solely up to me. There's probably very little we haven't at least tried once, aside from the few things I personally have zero interest in.

I've worked at the same law firm since I was 23. I've always had a male boss and still report to a man. However, since the 1990s, the acceptance of females in senior roles has evolved. In my own case, I now have male team members and graduates who work for me and I even share a male PA. I am noticeably more ambitious and aggressive about my career, and even tactics in a case, than I used to be, just two years ago. Undoubtedly having Edward as my slave has helped me develop my dominant side and be more assertive in the vanilla world too. I've never been tempted to allow my sexual side to interfere in my professional life but I do set exacting standards for my PA where I'd probably have accepted less from a young man like him a few years ago.