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.
