I've recently been researching how stories are structured, in particular, the 'Hero's Journey' which is the basis for most Hollywood films. Think Luke Skywalker in Star Wars. And it's struck me that my own personal journey into ownership and slavery has followed a similar road. Not that I've been destroying Death Stars, but the chapters that have led me from dabbling in a bit of leather, to being owned by a Master, have aligned with that hero's journey. I'm not some big hero, but by putting myself out there and taking some risks, extraordinary things have happened to me. Let me explain.
It began, like for Luke, in the ordinary world. I had lots of gear, which I loved wearing, and would go out to the occasional club night in leather or rubber. I chatted to many great guys around the world, who I would seldom meet, and spent more than my fair share of time in front of a webcam. The play I did have was good, but for me, it was sex that happened to be in gear. Plus, there was a contradiction between how I looked, and how I felt. I wore a Muir cap and biker jeans and got mistaken for a Dom, but deep down I knew that wasn't me, and although I liked the gear I was wearing, I didn't inhabit it. I wanted more. It was time to get out from behind the cam, get my story rolling, and answer the call to adventure.
The call came in the form of a superb Dominant man, who would eventually own me as his slave. We met online and struck it off straight away. We'd chatted for a couple of years on and off and played from time to time. Without realising it, I had met a mentor. Remember Luke in the desert? This man was generous with his time, encouraged me to attend more events, talk to a wider group of guys, and try a whole host of new things. I quickly left my ordinary world behind and entered this exciting new world (the webcam broke and didn't get replaced). Each time we met, he pushed me further, beyond my self-imposed limits, and I started to let go. We ploughed through a menu of experiences and discovered what worked. What I discovered is that I loved it all. I was on my way. Power exchange, worship, restraint, sensory control, caging, watersports, the list went on. I was stretching as far as I thought I could. Challenging myself beyond what I felt was possible.
Of course, I had some reluctance at first and refused the call to fully immerse myself. Our play was hard, and I was submissive. I can remember the exact moment when this changed. Things shifted up a gear, and I jumped from play to work. Master fitted me with his favourite chain hook, pulling my nose tightly upwards, and ordered me to look at myself in his full-length mirror. My true self, my slave self was staring back at me. "You're a pig slave," he said, "That's the real you." Of course, he was right. I'd always been drawn to serving others, in my personal and professional life and enjoyed the feeling of seeing people's happiness or success as a result of my service. This was a natural fit for me, and an extension of what I was already doing. The answer had been there all along. I'm a true slave soul, and from then on there was no going back. I'd crossed the first threshold.
As soon as I'd had this realisation I powered forward. I wanted to learn everything I could about what it meant to be slave, as opposed to a sub. I've done a lot of reading. There are some clear differences, which I'll save for another time. But Master described it as "a true slave soul - that absolute need and willingness to acknowledge deep submission to a man it will almost always address and consider its superior." Master had guided me patiently towards the truth. Along the way, I had gone through a tough mental journey to accept this part of my soul. I took a leap of faith and officially registered as owned and collared by my Master. But by doing this I had set off on a series of tests and obstacles, and like our hero Luke, there were new rules I had to learn. I was eager, and remain so, to prove to Master that I had the strength to live up to this commitment. Slavery was not about weakness and being a pushover. It was about having the ability to maintain the high standards and challenges set out for me. Which meant I needed to arrive for a session, energised, centred, prepared and immaculate. I took up yoga and meditation to help me maintain focus for extended periods and talked to other submissives about their experiences and get advice. Master also locked me in chastity to ensure my focus is always about pleasing his needs. I was determined not to drop the ball or let Master down with anything substandard.
Master takes great pride in upholding protocols and has taken the time to teach and incorporate these into the service I provide. I'm clear on what's expected. I formally greet Master by kissing his boots, I don't question his authority, and always address him as Sir. In public, I'm very aware that my actions reflect on him, so I ensure that the way I conduct myself would make him proud. Throughout all of this, there is consent, trust and excellent communication. Outside of formal service we remain friends, and talk about all kinds of interests, including the Master/slave dynamic, checking in to ensure the other is happy. I love our chats, and they help me with knowing that I can fully allow myself to dive into service, trusting Master to command me in the way he chooses.
Back to Hollywood, and towards the end of every good movie there's an ordeal; it's said that heroes must die to be reborn. Will Luke really make it out of the compactor? I've made it through my own mental journey, faced the fear, and emerge confident, strong and guilt-free. I've worked out how I fit into the fetish community and wear the gear without letting it wear me. The reward? No, not a light sabre, but a bold tattoo that reminds me not to be afraid.
So, my advice - get out from behind your webcam, be bold, and destroy your own Death Star. May the force be with you!
PS The word 'hero' is Greek, from the root that means "to protect and to serve." A Hero is someone who is willing to sacrifice his own needs on behalf of others. How appropriate
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