A Simple Act of Submission Isn’t Always So Simple

It was like any other morning. Daddy and I had finished eating breakfast and both of us were getting ready to start our day. Daddy was using the bathroom and I was wandering around the apartment, forcing myself to change out of my comfy pajamas and into regular clothes for class. While I’m changing, there’s this odor drifting through the apartment. This was not a pleasant odor at all. I’m in the bedroom rolling my eyes as Daddy is making a comment about the scent of His “magnificence”. Yes, this is a regular occurrence in the apartment and a regular part of the banter that goes on between Daddy and me. Then Daddy calls for me to take a whiff. Smirking to myself, I tell Him that I can smell from where I’m at. I’m called once again, so this time I stand in front of the entrance from the bathroom. That still wasn’t close enough for Daddy’s liking. He tells me to kneel, pointing to a spot next to the toilet. I look at Him, waiting to hear that He’s joking. I give Him a look as if He’s joking. He just points again to the spot and says “Now slave”. Yeah, He wasn’t joking. So…I kneel and take a whiff.

You’re probably wondering what horrendous thing had I done to deserve this punishment. Did I forget to do something that I was supposed to? Did I do something I wasn’t supposed to do? Did I break something? Did I throw away an important piece of mail? Nope. None of the above. This wasn’t a punishment. This was one of those things where Daddy had me do this just because He could make me. This was a small, very random act of submission.

Afterwards, I stood up and before I could turn around and walk out of the bathroom, Daddy grabbed me by the collar and told me that because of my previous action, that’s the reason why He collared me. I could have fought Him over this. I could have stomped my foot and told Him that there was no way in hell I was doing what He just asked of me. I could have acted like I didn’t hear Him and gone about my business. I do know if I had carried out any three of those actions, I wouldn’t enjoy the consequences. And yes, there was a brief moment where I did ponder what my next course of action was going to be.

After Daddy was out the door, He asked me how I felt about what had happened earlier. I told Him I was ready to call Him every name in the book and telling Him “no,” was being highly considered, but even though I wanted to tell Him “no,” I knew that really wasn’t an option. That it seemed like such a silly thing to throw a fit over. I wasn’t being put into any kind of danger or physical harm, just a bit of unpleasantness, so there was no impending risk in the task. I also told Him that I loved that He did that. I loved that He showed the dominance that He has over me. That I felt like I had been reminded of my place, where I belong, and who I am.

It also reminded me what submission is about. Submission is about doing what is asked or ordered of me, without question, whether it’s something I really want to do or not. It’s about doing things that make Daddy happy, that please Him. That I trust Daddy explicitly, that no matter what He orders, I will not be harmed, and that I trust Him more than any other person in my entire life. It reminded me that I am apart of something much, much bigger than just myself. It’s easy when life gets in the way to forget all of that and to get bogged down in the responsibilities that are required of me outside of the relationship to forget all of that. All it took was that one simple order to remind me of so much.

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