A year later

1 month, 27 days, 2 hours, 24 minutes, and 49 seconds.

Then my plane will land in Steel’s city.

There’s a lot about living so far away that sucks.  But by far the worst is when he crashes and I’m not there to help him get stable again.

Neither of us were big on long-distance relationships.  We knew it would be hard, and we knew most of them only last a few months.

But the chemistry was undeniable.  And I fell in love with him immediately.

As intense as the relationship got, and as fast, we both wondered at the red flags that should have been popping up, but weren’t.  Still, I decided to go with what I felt, with what felt natural, and told him to do the same.

We’ve had our differences (like the fact that he’s a Raiders fan, while I’m a Broncos fan.  But the Raiders may actually be moving to Vegas, so I promised I’d keep an open mind), and he’s much more practical and prone to overthinking, while I am much more laid-back and go-with-the-flow type.  In some ways, we are the exact opposite.  But it’s in a way that we complement each other, and it works beautifully.

A year later, that intensity hasn’t waned in the slightest.  And every time I see him, it just gets stronger.

I’ve fed his neediness, his greed, his clinginess, and his dependence, because that’s the way I want him.  He’s opened himself up to me to a level I’ve never experienced before, and it made it very easy for me to mold and condition him to be what I want.

While I don’t regret doing it (and am willing to bet he doesn’t regret it, either, and he’ll tell me if I’m wrong), the neediness and dependence that I’ve encouraged, that we both want, has made the distance even worse.

When that craving, that dependence, that neediness comes crashing down on him, he has trouble stabilizing himself again.  And if I were there with him, it would be too easy to interrupt that spiral and get him leveled out.

But I’m not, and it’s not.  All I can do is tell him that it’ll pass, that it’ll be alright.  And I hate knowing that he’s hurting, and I can’t help him.

Especially since it would be so easy to fix, if I was just there.

But he’s a big boy, and he’s a strong man, and he gets through it.  And I hold back a bit on the intensity, so he can hold on to his sanity.

It’s been a year that he’s been mine.  And I keep thinking back to the day I collared him.

I’ve never been one for big ceremonies.  There was none when I collared Kazander.  And with Steel, I’d told him I wanted to collar him months before we met and I could actually fasten it around his neck.

I ended up collaring him almost as soon as we were alone together.  Every time I looked at him, every time I saw the absence of the collar there, it just annoyed me.  He was mine.  I wanted him collared.

There was one thing he had asked for, though.  And the way he asked was so sweet, so shy, I was happy to oblige him.

He’d asked if he could write me a letter, that I would read while knelt at my feet on the day I collared him.

It’s a letter that I carry in my wallet with me, right next to his collar, that stays in a special zippered pocket in my purse when it’s not around his neck.


I kneel at your feet stripped, vulnerable, and helpless.  Kneeling here while you read my intentions as an act of choice before you collar me.  Because this moment exists somewhere between before and after and only happens once.  Once is special.

I come to you fully owning my identity as a submissive, knowing that you will only take what is given freely and nothing more.  I come to aching to break, knowing you will only break what’s necessary in order for you to truly possess me.  I come to you prepared to worship, knowing you only accept such adoration as your due from those you own and protect, and secure in the knowledge you won’t build a shrine to your own ego.  I come to you fully understanding myself to be a slutty, craving, needy boy submitting to you as my Dominant; knowing you value these traits, I understand you will feed and enable them as long as I am not endangering myself.  I come to you wanting to serve, knowing you will hurt, use, break, and mold me – knowing you will care for me, guide me, and help me to be a better person – knowing you will feed weakness and greed even as you build strengths and discipline – knowing you will push me towards limits or hold me back as necessary –  knowing I am always safe under your gaze and under your thumb.

Once you collar me, I am yours.  Having surrendered and submitted to your will of my own volition, you possess the power to punish and reward as you see fit.  I submit to your experience, intellect, love, and compassion just as I submit to your sadism, depravity, and craving for control.  I submit to you with the knowledge you know and understand my hardest limits and confident you will ask for clarification should we approach anything that approximates unknown territory.  I submit – happily – knowing no magic words exist, which I can utter to force you to stop.  You will stop when you decide because you are the one in control.  Your possessing the final say is what I want and need.

I promise to work hard to be a good, sweet, and obedient boy.  I promise to work hard to learn how to serve you best and remain a valuable submissive.  I promise to strive to remain as open and vulnerable as you desire in order to give you access and control to whatever traits you wish to enhance, curb, or condition.  I promise to constantly make an effort to not take you or this relationship for granted.

As you read this note I have been thinking on what’s written here.  As you take in these words, I have been searing them into my consciousness.  I have been waiting a long time for you and find myself both thrilled and scared the wait is over.

I love you.

Your boy,

I’ve read it so many times, I pretty much have it memorized.  And he has made good on everything he’s promised in his letter.  His dedication has never faltered, he’s never forgotten his place, he’s never given me reason to be disappointed in him.  Whether we’re together or thousands of miles apart, he’s everything I want him to be.

And while I cherish and adore who he is as a submissive, it’s who he is as a man that I respect and admire.  He’s no stranger to pain, to tragedy, to loss, to regret.  All three of my boys have experienced more than their fair share of those, and all three have risen above it.

Steel knows who he is, he knows what he has to offer, and he knows his worth.  Along with that, he loves me, he loves submitting to me, and loves serving me.  I consider myself lucky to own him.


This is his favorite position to be in, and I can’t wait to have him curled up in my lap where he belongs.  1 month, 27 days, 1 hour, 4 minutes, and 18 seconds to go.

3 thoughts on “A year later

  1. That’s one of the most beautiful expressions of surrender and submission that I’ve ever read. It sounds as though you’re both equally lucky in love. Xox

  2. Michael says:

    Well, that is really heart-fulfilling! I wish you both a nice tme when you finally come to meet again.

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