You Must Have Trained This Woman
speaking of submissive women...
>>> this isn't my story but a girl wrote it a while back and makes a lot of sense, I love it, give it a read. *you might not agree with EVERYTHING though, not that I do either.
I read a lot of blogs and articles in newspapers and magazines, stories by and about women bemoaning the fact that they can't get a man. He doesn't want to commit, he's selfish in bed, blah, blah, blah. I know that you've all see them. Well get a clue ladies. You cant get a man because you aren't being a woman. You aren't looking and acting in such a manner that attracts a real man. Real men want a woman who isn't afraid of her own feminine nature of being vulnerable and submissive to the male spirit. And while we're at it, a woman that takes the time to look her best. A woman that wants a man in her life is going to have to understand that there is never an excuse for not looking your best for him. From head to toe, your aim is to please visually.
http://www.funzu.com/content/view/744/49/ Take a look at these and honestly, which do you think is going to get the guys attention? Pretty much a no brainer right? and clothes? That lace teddy may not be as comfortable as those flannel pj's but if you want a man in your life, get over it, it's not about your self centered little likes anymore. If you want a man in your life, you'll put him first and you will find the truely feminine pleasure of being pleasing is what every real man seeks in a woman.
Whew! Wen grocery shopping today. I've just got to stop reading the magazines while waiting in line at the checkout.
We'd talked about me becoming his property. We'd talked about marriage and wives as chattle to their husbands. We'd talked about a woman and her status and place as slave and servant. We'd talked about the relinquishing of freedom and rights and of being defined forever as nothing more or less than what he wished of me. And all the while I was submissive and yearning for more and really felt that i was losing myself into being his. And then we got married. We committed. Stood before friends and family and made solemn promises of love and honor and I to obey. Until death do us part. His forever. But all the talking, all the words, all that desire, mean that I was really understanding of what "forever his" really meant. My introduction of my new life as owned wife was with my clothes. When I moved in to my husbands house and was unpacking my clothes, my husband would take each piece, and say whether I could keep it or not. All my pants and jeans went into the give away pile. Ditto any shoe without at least a three inch heel. Banished were pantyhose, any undies he didn't think sexy, skirts that were too long, blouses that weren't tight enough. I put away all that he had decided to keep in this wonderful walk in closet. When I was done, he said he didn't care for what I was wearing right then, and told me to take them off and put them away as well. I did, and I asked what he wanted me to wear. He handed me a shoe box. These, he told me, would be enough for me to wear for awhile. I opened the box and there were a pair of black patent heels. They'd a five inch spiked heel and a ankle strap that had a little heart shaped padlock that closed it. I put them on and my husband clicked the little locks. My highest heels were four inch and when I did wear heels, they were usually three inch. so I was a little teetery on those shoes. My husband then pulled close the closet door and again taking out his keys, locked the door. As I stood there, naked but for a pair of heels I could barely walk in and couldn't get out of, it was that moment when it clicked for me, that I'd not only been physically ********, but my nakedness and the hobbling nature of the shoes I was locked into, were metaphor to what my life was now become. My husband held all my choices for me, not for just that day, but the next day and the day after, and all the days after. From that day to this, I have learned and come to accept that what my husband decides for me. Being his property, he gets to choose what pleases him. My choice is to be happy to please him and I am.
I was thinking about my last post and how my husband uses me for sex. When we were first married, he kept me naked most of the time and would have me a half dozen times a day. I would be running the vacuum and then next thing I would know I be bent over the back of the couch or washing the dishes, being interrupted with his need to have me orally service him. I loved being kept on a leash, ready for sex.
With the birth of our first child,things have changed. I wear a dress now, though I'm still kept naked beneath or wearing butt plug or ***** harness. My husbands use of me is now a bit furtive, doors are now closed to curious little eyes, a drive to the store alone with him means a stop in a secluded spot. I miss the spontaneity and openness, but now there is the "might get caught" kind of kink that has added something new. Being a submissive and being a mom is a balancing act. My husband is really good at keeping me on edge, of building up the sexual tension over the course of the day until I am nuts with want and need. I wonder as my new son suckles at my breast, can he sense my bodies state of sexual excitement from the latex panties with the six inch ***** that my husband has me wearing today? Is my toddler daughter somewhere aware of the sent of sex on me because while she napped her father did me doggy style on the floor of his office?
As the kids grow and become more aware, sex is going to be a more problematic situation for us. As they get older it will easier to leave them with my parents for an occasional weekend get away. I'm looking forward to when they get to school age and then for hours a day I can be the naked sex slave again.
I have begun every morning of my married life, with rare exception, no my knees with my husbands **** in my mouth. As his wife, he has dominion over my body and can demand of it sexual gratification when ever and where ever he wants and as his wife I dutifully and joyfully, obey. Coming into the marriage, I was young, and inexperienced and while not ignorant, I was pretty naive. The morning ritual of me on my knees, hands behind me, my husband standing and taking me by the head and hair and using my mouth, was the beginning of my training in sexual submission. And this morning ritual remains today a daily reminder of my place and role as woman and wife.
I see in discussion groups from time to time the ever ingoing debate of what is a slave and what is a submissive and how can you tell, and on and on and on. If you are a woman, then you are submissive by nature. You may not know it, it might have been brain washed out of you, but if you have a vagina and breasts, you are submissive. In an ideal world, women would be again what they once were, and that is property. A girl first belongs to their father and then becomes the property to whomever man her father decides. Women as property are freed from choice. Is this slavery? Can she be bought and sold? Are not women bought and sold every day in society now? And which is more demeaning, to be bought by a man who prizes a valuable possession that he will care for, or auction oneself off as a consumer good to be used and discarded? Marriage is too frivolous now, it too has become part of the throw away ethos we live in. Better off am I to wear the collar and tags of my husband and owner. What is the nature of a submissive woman’s love for the man that owns her? The modern love story is one of angst and ecstasy, highs and lows, culminating in a marriage that turns into the clichéd battle of the sexes that is the fodder of every sit-com. That is so wrong and so unnecessary. In the natural order of things, a woman not only defers and submits to the superior man, but worships and adores men, for they are her protector and provider. When a man takes a woman as his property (wife), he becomes the embodiment of all men for her and the absolute ob
What are women and what is there place? For most of human history, females were correctly seen as the weaker sex, kept and protected by men. For thousands of years, because we women were known to be mentally incapable of dealing with the the world, were were best off as the property of men, first as daughters and then as wives. Understanding the inferiority of our sex, we were happy and grateful to be the servants to our fathers, brothers, husbands and sons, and brought up our daughters to be respectful, faithful and obedient and were proud and grateful when their fathers gave or sold them as wives to men who would go on caring and protecting them.
We have strayed for this nature order and the world is poorer for it. When I look past those friends who live as I do, into the larger world of feral women, of women who think (!) that they can and have the right to make their own decisions, all I see are angst ridden and confused women, who have either little sense of self and no real happiness.
A woman can only be happy when she is the property of a man. When she is owned, she doesn't need to think, for her owner will make all the decisions that will effect her and as such, she is free to fully inhabit her own feminine energy The feminine psyche is submissive, desirous to be being pleasing but is undisciplined, and so we need our controlling males firm hand to impose order and structure on us and teach us obedience.
I am the chattel wife of my husband and I have been his property ever since my father gave me away to him at our wedding, eight years ago. As his wife, my husband makes all the decisions that effect me and his word on any subject is final. I grew up in a traditional home, so do I believe that men are by nature superior and that a woman’s place is in service to her husband. I try my very best to be the dutiful, respectful, and obedient wife.