There is no such thing as an ending, just a new beginning

Packing up

With my move imminent, and M and I back on speaking terms it was time to get ready for a new beginning.

P rolled over and accepted the move when I told him the plan, I guess he was effectively let off the hook as far as parenting went. The boys didn’t take any convincing either. They immediately liked the town and the school, the local moors and beaches were quick to capture their attention too.

I was so lucky to have my beautiful friend B on hand with sage advice.

She helped me to understand that while I loved M, if I wanted him in my life I needed to take those feelings of romantic and needy love and turn them on their head, into loving feelings of friendship. She didn’t say that it would be easy, but she showed me that it would be possible. She had experienced something similar with an incompatible ex recently and they were the best of friends.

With the boxes packed, the van filled and my keys collected M and I set off down the familiar route.

Emotionally and physically exhausted I sat next to him in the cab. He was in the driver’s seat and tunes were playing quietly through the speaker by my ear. We barely spoke on the trip, not through awkwardness or animosity, rather lost in our own thoughts. As I looked out of the window at the frozen trees as we climbed speedily through the forest I noticed the snow flakes falling and settling in small banks on the verge. In reply I began to silently weep, I don’t know why. Sadness for my lost relationship? Grief for the marriage that wasn’t meant to be? Relief at the new start? Maybe even fear?

Gathering myself before we pulled up outside my new front door I felt lighter.

Something inside me had been released on that drive, perhaps I had set myself free? And once the van was empty and the beds assembled I took M out for a carvery. A small token of my appreciation. We sat and ate far too much food, laughing together and enjoying each others company as friends.

Back in comfortable companionship. The kind that only happens when you are happy in your own self.

I was beginning to realise my value again. To not only see that I didn’t have to file down the edges of my square peg in order to fit the round hole, but to believe it independently of outside forces telling me it was so. Life had been hard at times, but I would never ever give up. The move signified a fresh start for me, a new set of choices. How would I choose to rebuild my life? A fork in the path that lay ahead.

But which way would I choose to go?

Beginning from the end.

There is no such thing as an ending, just a new beginning was first published on A Leap of Faith.

Do not be too timid and squeamish about your actions. All life is an experiment.


My journey with MrN was underway and I was giving over a little of myself to him.

It was a peculiar sensation because I had given myself to Sir so completely and I hadn’t had the chance to take that back. MrN was the first person who had a hint of what I needed and so I felt some conflict during this phase, luckily I have always been open and honest and he was patient with my worries. It can’t have been easy to hear that his potential submissive still felt tangled up with her former Dominant, but he was understanding and made it as easy as possible for me. Just by being him and showing me the way that he wanted things done I stepped away from the past and moved forward, opening up a little at a time.

I had shared with him my initial dislike of watersports, and how the fear had given way to curiosity.

I had pushed myself to pee on camera for a self-assigned task with Sir, but had never taken it further. This was soon to change. MrN had a strong interest in pee play, and seemed to delight in my uncomfortable curiosity. The first thing that he asked me to do was to use a bowl as a toilet, and tip it over my head. He also asked for videos of both acts. I have never been gifted with technology, so it was the video part that caused me the most worry for this task. Fortunately I had a fair amount of practise with tasks over the previous year, but this was my first time in months and I felt out of practise and extremely vulnerable.

The best way to tackle those nerves was head on, so I got started on the job in hand.

Holding the phone in my hand I was able to easily capture the bowl being filled. The next stage took a bit more preparation though, if I got the angle wrong I would have to repeat the task and at this stage I didn’t know if I would be able to!! I had to move fast though, because the thought of pouring cold pee over my head was even less appealing than repeating the task. I got my phone balancing just so, sat in my bath, hit the record button, closed my eyes and….surprised myself that I wasn’t completely disgusted with myself for what I had just done. With my own pee dripping from my eyebrows, I stopped the recording, started drawing a bath and watched both back repeatedly while the bubbly hot water rose around me. Washing my body and hair I could then relax and compose an email for his inbox when he had the chance to read it.

I think he must have been very pleased with my efforts.

The next day I received a very positive email, complimenting me on my efforts and asking how I felt the following day, now that I had been able to reflect. Satisfied that I was still happy with what I had done, he asked me to repeat the task…almost. I had a pair of patent leather heels and he asked that, at my next opportunity, I pee in one of them and then drink it, again with video evidence. This was quite a big step to take, he knew that it would be a big push for me, but he also knew that I liked to be stretched.

Make sure you have plenty to drink, it will taste less strong that way was his guidance. 

So, on the next occasion where I had a child free home I hydrated well, took my phone and shoe into the bathroom, and off I went. The shoe was tricky to pee into, because of the shape. For some reason it was important to me that it didn’t overflow, so I had to stop mid flow! When I moved onto the second phase I just kept the camera on, holding it in one hand while, on the selfie screen, I watched myself tip my head back and drink. I drained the shoe. Not in one fluid motion, it took me a few goes and I gagged a number of times, but I did it!! I was pleased to be well hydrated, the flavour wasn’t unbearable to me but I could see how awful pee would taste if there was a lack of fluids.

Again, I ran the bath, and emptied myself while I did so. 

Relaxing in the bath I sent him the evidence and a short email. I explained how pleased I had been to complete this challenge, that I was surprised at how not-unpleasant the experience had been and discussed how, in my efforts for perfection, I was disappointed in the way my gag reflex had betrayed my willingness. His response “Well done N, you have done really well, good girl” It seems that I was the only one disappointed in my gag reflex. Life is all about experimenting and trying new things, and having someone to share that with made me more at ease with myself. shoe

And suddenly you just know it is time to start something new and trust the magic of new beginnings


Life seemed to be going quite well.

The sale of my marital home was nearing completion and I had a new flat to move into with my boys. They were settling into a new life with two homes. I had been promoted at work, had an increased case-load and became responsible for training new staff. I had some new friends who made me smile, and offered unconditional support. I had been able to assert myself in the kink world with my foot caning play partner. Also, it was the summertime so I was swimming in the sea and running as often as possible.

To top it all off I finally had an interesting message on BeMyDom.

He was polite and respectful, not pushy or sex orientated. He was looking for a submissive, someone who was keen to push themselves and try hard for him. I was hesitant to start with. He was in a long-term vanilla relationship and had no intention of leaving her. I struggled most with this aspect as I had no desire to be a dirty secret, especially if she was a good person. I could rationalise my infidelity, because P wasn’t very nice but this felt bad, and not in a good way. Also he was 3-4 hours drive away, which would mean we would mainly have an online relationship, hotel meetings may happen once every 3 months or so, but chances would be slim. I didn’t know if I was ready to give myself over to someone else, and if I was would I be good enough…? Also, he didn’t like to share his submissive.

In the end the prospect of an online relationship, with a married man, felt safer than a local single Dominant.

There was less pressure on us both, and I could start to free myself a little bit. MrN had a way about him which put me at ease, he was gentle and kind though firm.  We were both busy with our lives and so contact was an evening every week or so, with an email each way every day. We discussed likes and dislikes, needs and boundaries, hopes and dreams. I made a case for having freedom with other men if I asked first, he agreed because he would be in bed with his partner every  night and wanted things to be fair for me.

And so he began to set me to work, with tasks and rules.

The tasks that he set me in the first couple of weeks were sourcing items. Nothing expensive or that would need specialist retailers. My list included:

  • little bulldog clips
  • string
  • drawing pins
  • pegs
  • deep heat
  • medicine syringes
  • a small bucket

True to form I got hold of everything that was required. Then I had some preparations to do, DIY deviance. The syringes became nipple and clitoral pumps. He had originally suggested the calpol syringes for this, but I had to go to the local country stores and buy some animal medicine syringes for the right sizes. I had to cut four length of string to match my inner thighs, tying a loop in one end of each and attaching a peg to the end.

These strings puzzled me, I could not figure out what they were for! I was told to pop them in a safe place for a later date.

There were more things to make, things to keep me out of mischief. Many of the creations puzzled me, but my questions were met with the same answer… Put them away, try not to think about them. So I would put them away and mull over the possibilities. He asked me to set up an xHamster account for us to share. I could then save videos that I liked, as could he, and we could discuss. I already had an account, so sent him over the details. A couple of the videos which I had saved before coming into contact with him later became inspiration for him. And the videos that he shared with me were very interesting for different reasons. He had a heel fetish, as well as a sadistic streak when it came to pretty feet and a love of watersports. We had common ground in feet, and my curiosity about pee play, but my inability to walk in heels meant that his shoe fetish scared me in the best possible way.

I never felt that MrN was my forever Dominant, but for now we were able to give something to each other. 

carpe diem

When your self esteem rises your life will follow.


With the removal of P from my home life I suddenly had some head space.

Not a huge amount, I felt guilty for moving him out and he was still asking me to deal with this, that and the other. The late night knocks on the door, the calls and the texts were not welcome… but I felt responsible for him, for his misery, for his loneliness. I may have removed his physical presence, but he wasn’t gone yet. While I supported him in his new home I had two small boys to get settled into a new way of living. They were incredible, and a source of inspiration to keep going when things were difficult. And things were very difficult at times.

Break ups are challenging at the best of times, without being told repeatedly that you aren’t good enough to cope alone.

Over the months that followed things began to change, slowly but surely, in the way that a dripping tap still fills a sink, I began to realise that. My time with Sir had started my seeds of self-confidence growing. I had been strong enough to get to this point. I could just make out some of the ways that I had changed already. Trusting my own judgement, making a plan and sticking to it, learning to ask for help when I needed it, understanding that I was worth more than being treated like dirt. However, what was becoming clear to me was that I was becoming excited about the future. It was a faint buzz rather than all out joy, I still had a lot of healing to do before I could trust that everything would be ok, but I started to make plans.

Plans for my future started taking shape.

I had enrolled on a foundation course with the Open University. I could study alongside my full-time work and the children. The course material would help with my work and in theory would tell me that I was good enough to continue onwards with my career path. I had to battle those demons, informing them almost daily that I would be able to do the work, that I was good enough… a capable and intelligent woman. At the time though I had just enough confidence in my ability to start and complete tasks that I believed I could get through the access module, at the very least. My tasks as a submissive were bearing fruit, even four months after they stopped.

My confidence in my ability as a parent improved too. 

I had felt the impact of strict boundaries and moving goal posts for many years, and seeing the confusion on my eldest’s face when he met these ever-changing rules and regulations was awful. As a submissive I had also experienced a very fair set of boundaries, knew where I could push and what the consequences would be. Operating as a single mum I could take inspiration from my other secret life and build stable foundations for my boys. Watching the boys flourish, even as they pushed back against the safety nets I had put up, filled me with pride. Watching them grow made me more aware, more present, as a parent, and that made me more capable. A positive cycle which I had learnt through Sirs example of being both patient and strict. I could do it!!

I was also coming around to the idea that I was an ok person.

I had been socially isolated throughout most of my marriage, only being allowed contact with certain permitted friends. With the removal of P from my life came a loss of most of those “friendships” I was suddenly blocked on social media, people wouldn’t answer my texts, and the ones that did would shut me down. The lies which were being spread about me were vile; friends, family and colleagues having their heads filled with nonsense. All a way for P to continue bullying me, he always played the victim card. As hard as it is to see these doors close, to feel the isolation, I soon began to see little rays of sunshine. In the place of the long-standing friendships I started to meet new people, people who fitted with my new sense of self. No longer the drinkers, pot heads and gossips… I had control over who I wanted in my world, and as much as being cut off hurt at the time this was another reason to be excited. R and M to start with soon to be joined by more along the way.

Out with the old, in with the new.


Some days there won’t be a song in your heart. Sing anyway.


Nothing could have prepared me for the sense of loss and abandonment that I felt.

It is hard remembering how difficult I found the first few weeks. I had given part of me to this man and then he left, taking that part with him. Aside from sending him the email I didn’t really know what to do, so I continued with my rules and tasks. I can see how that may read to others; why would I keep on when he had vanished? Honestly, it makes little sense, even now, except that I was floundering, I had no idea how to transition back to “normal”, or if he would pop up and say it was a test and I should have carried on, or…. At the time I needed the routine of the tasks, looking back I’m so pleased I kept on.

If I hadn’t kept on I would never have met E.

I had told him early on that I was curious about being bi-curious, and I would never have had the courage to explore that side of me without those tasks. I had been building in confidence, flirting and had even scened with another woman and her husband. When I started talking to E she was a breath of fresh air. Her fabswingers profile stated she was a highly sexed lesbian looking for no strings fun. About 5 weeks after sir went P was working nights, and the boys were in bed… E arrived at my door. She was 6 feet tall, slim, blonde and giddy. She had brought a bottle of wine with her, and a bag of toys. She knew that I was very inexperienced but keen, and she was excited to be playing with me.

A couple of glasses of wine later and the exploration began in earnest.

She was very caring and gentle, she was also very appreciative of my efforts. E shared her love of oral, scissoring and a strap-on. She was very attentive with her mouth, and when we swapped she was clean and smooth, not scented with urine which was a step up from the last time. I decided then that I only wanted to go down on smooth women. Scissoring was something I had never come across before, it was clumsy and awkward and I still don’t understand how it works in a pleasurable way. Now, the strap on was something different for me too. I had never seen one before and had no idea what they were meant to look like or feel like. The one that she brought (and enjoyed) was, I believe, a vibrator sheath attachment for the harness. It didn’t enter me and I found it a little disappointing, I wondered why people would rather this than a beautiful cock. She went wild though, loving every minute that it slid over her. I have since googled and seen in person other strap-ons, and I would love to try it again, with a woman who is less vanilla. And maybe with less wine!

When she left to go home I was so proud of myself.

I had pushed through a boundary and enjoyed myself. With a willing partner I had explored new areas and tried new toys. I was still stuck with the thought that this must mean I am a lesbian, that perhaps P had been right all along, that the reason I hadn’t wanted sex with him was because I wanted to sleep with women. And I didn’t have the option of contacting sir, to tell him all about it. I had always been asked for reviews after each scene or challenging task, not only did it give him feedback on my thoughts and feelings, but it was also a positive thing for me to reflect and digest what had happened.

Now though, I didn’t have that outlet, that form of after-care if you like. 

This was an important learning point for me. That I would need to figure out a new way to process my wandering mind after new experiences and intense sessions. I’m nothing if not tenacious so this was a welcome puzzle for me, a distraction from what else had been going on in my life at the time. I just had to figure out how to embrace this new world on my terms, without an abusive husband calling the shots or my Dominant guiding the way. The first one I couldn’t wait to see the back of, and the other, Sir, I missed with every aching ounce of my being.

My mind was working again, and I was setting the rules. Maybe it wasn’t all bad…


Faith is taking the first step even when you don’t see the whole staircase.


By asking him to consider me for his next submissive I had taken that first step onto a staircase which I couldn’t possibly see all of. I had put my faith in him, trusting him from the outset, no doubt in my mind that I was on my way somewhere. At this point I had very little trust in anyone, and this man…. I can’t even begin to explain how I felt.

It felt so alien, but so right. 

His response…received swiftly… made my heart race. Again! In fact reading it back today, while writing this entry, has the same effect on me. I have always believed that everything happens for a reason, even the difficult things, and his words were all I had hoped they would be. He made it seem so easy, to be genuine and try very hard. Both of those things are in me naturally, and he was a wave of calm, lapping at my shoreline, encouraging the natural part of me to emerge. He had already asked me to call him Sir, and, to this day, it is all I can call him. In a world where nothing else made sense I knew I was finally on the right path.

“You trust, I keep you safe”

He was open in telling me he had found me on Facebook after my initial contact and he already knew a little about me, but that he wanted to know more. He explained that he would be setting me tasks, to help him gain more of an understanding of me and to help me to start to give myself over to him. He started gently: a picture of me that was just for him, and a full breakdown of my marriage and what was happening there. When I talked through what was happening in my marriage I could not allow myself to see all of what was going on, I had shielded myself from the worst so that I could get through the days. It is only being 3+ years out, and with lots of professional support over the last 12 months, that I have been able to remember and unpick these events. The picture was me fully clothed, in a skirt! You may have guessed, with the love of mud and being a natural tomboy skirts were low down in my choice. Soon that was to change, he asked me to wear skirts with bare legs whenever it was possible (one of my roles at work was an allotment project…I was allowed to wear trousers there…) There were more questions, I responded well to his words and was always happy to give him as much as he asked for while also aiming for above and beyond. This was new to me, my family have always said that with me:

Still waters run deep

I only ever shared what I needed to with them. Now though, Sir had opened the flood gates and it was all coming out. I didn’t want to seem too enthusiastic, and as I was thinking that my next email should ask about contact (how much is enough, how much is too much) my notifications pinged, and it was him, in my head already! He instructed me to get in contact daily, as he would usually have something for me to do. I was safe to share, I never felt judged or daft, and I trusted that he would tell me if I became too much. I had no experience of submitting, but there was no other way for me to be with him. I loved the body writing task which came next. As I opened my mind to him my body wanted to follow. Geographically distant, and still early days in his consideration, he asked me to write on myself For Sir. It felt like he was on me, touching me… A physical connection to go with the emotional one that I felt. With the tasks I felt like a new woman, I would smile more, laugh a little and even dare to be happy.

My secret wasn’t quite so secret anymore, and I trusted Sir to keep me and my secret safe. 

for sir

Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain.

This quote found it’s way into my email inbox last weekend  (Dankie x) and it is so fitting, because it is this point in time where I learnt to do just that. With chaos reigning supreme in my home life, I was able to find little moments of calm and utter joy. Whether that is when I was writing on myself in white board marker (handy hint: these can be removed quickly with baby wipes as the need arises!) or enjoying a moment of fun with my boys.

dancing in the rain


In the end we only regret the chances we don’t take

Four words, that’s all. Just four. 19 letters in total, which set the course for the journey I had decided to take.

Find a Dominant Dorset

I typed them into the search engine. Step one complete!

What came up started a crazy chain of events I could never have dreamt up, not in a hundred lifetimes.

  3. Vivastreet, and advert: Intelligent Dominant seeking submissive female

I clicked on number 3. It looked smaller, more manageable than the others. I remember how my heart started to race as I read the words, it seemed to offer everything I craved. No, no, no, no, no…. It wouldn’t be that easy. Not for me. I don’t deserve that, do I? Surely not.

Back to the search engine, clicking on number 1 “Oh. it’s free!” I signed up straight away. Before I had even completed a basic profile I had over 30 messages in my inbox. Blimey…. BACK TO THE SEARCH ENGINE!


Back again, next onto Fetlife. Another completely different experience. I created a very quick profile and had a quick perv. before clicking back onto my expanding inbox on Bemydom. Too much!!!!!! Another quick look at Vivastreet before sloping off to bed.

This pattern continued over the next few days. 

I found some interesting things on Fetlife, some nice people too. And discovered that Bemydom was actually one part of a very large umbrella site, where ten men for every woman hunted for sexual encounters. Not many interesting people to talk to at all. I wanted to learn about D/s, not bed hop. All the while I was planning out how to approach the Intelligent Dominant seeking submissive female. I’m a strong believer of the saying “If you don’t ask, the answer will always be no” and as I had made the decision to look for a happier life I would be foolish to pass by this advert…. So I did it. I replied. I sent a message answering unasked questions, I had thought hard about what to write, put it all together, rambled a little more than I intended to, hit send, and went to bed. I had a muddy obstacle course race the next day and needed to be up early to get there in time.

I had a response the following evening, full of questions. It seems my curiosity was not the only one which had been piqued. I spent the evening thinking on the answers, another early night as I had to travel for work the next day… I would write the response the following evening when I had more time to do so.

Next day did not go as planned

My 13 month old son had an awful accident and ended up in hospital for 8 days with horrific burns, there was one point where it looked as though he would never come home. Obviously my reply was put on the back-burner. I did not consider a quick message to ask him to bear with me. Instead I got a very polite message back 5 days later. He seemed genuine in his desire to hear back, not overbearing, just….well, just right. He attached a picture of himself, and coupled with the way he was talking to me I knew I had to send the message that, maybe, I should have sent a few days earlier. I had the evening in the hospital, my baby was sleeping and on the mend, and, well, this intelligent Dominant seeking submissive female  had a very soothing effect on me. I opened up, answered all of his questions and more unasked ones. I attached a picture of myself, taken after the race the previous weekend.first one sent

Not only was it the only one I had on my phone (I wasn’t comfortable in front of the camera, let alone selfies) it showed me at my happiest (I had the biggest smile on my face). The proverbial pig in sh*t. If he didn’t like me like that…well, as I have said before, I am just me…  I closed the email with this comment:

 I need to find someone who I can trust with my submission, who will be reasonably patient when I make mistakes, and who understands the power they have and the care that must be taken with it. If they are able to spark my imagination and not make me feel cheap for sharing my fantasies then that is all the better. 
He was obviously not deterred by the mud. I received a reply with answers to my questions, reiterating that he has his way of doing things and a submissive’s life is challenging and often requires leaps of faith
All that I could do next was to ask him if he would consider me.
So I did. I asked…
And my world would never be the same

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