Back to the drawing board, I had been considering what I wanted. In the day, my single day before 9 years of marriage, I had dated a man who was into a bit of bondage and discipline. If memory served I enjoyed my time with him and I wondered if I could rediscover it.
It doesn’t take long to find what you’re looking for on the internet, especially when it comes to anything involving sex. These sites are a world unto themselves with their own lexicon. One can wander around the ‘Chamber’, an area where B&D fantasies are played out or go through the ‘Gate’ (still don’t know). I used ‘The Pork‘ (charming, right?) to find what I was looking for.

‘I am an older experienced Master seeking the services of a sub/slave for my use mainly during the lunch hours. I am willing to take on one who is inexperienced and will properly train them to suit my needs. The prospective sub/slave should expect that they will be given orders to follow via email and chat. In person one-on-one sessions are a requirement thought not necessarily right away. Those interested should respond in the correct manner. Only serious inquiries please.’

I had nothing to lose so I made my enquiry. It was met with a quick response. Yes, he was willing to ‘train’ me. But first, I had to pass the interview. All via email he asked why I wanted to be a sub, what level of commitment could I give, what would/wouldn’t I be willing to do, what my level of education was and what some of my fantasies might be.

I wanted to be a sub because I felt the daily stressors and responsibilities of my life were sometimes overwhelming and I needed a release from them. Also, I had read about transcendence through pain and found the concept interesting. I can give ‘you’ every weekend but nothing more. Anything to do with my family was off limits: absolutely no demands were to be made that would infringe on my family time. I won’t do shit eating, golden showers or gagging. I hold several degrees. I have many fantasies involving spanking, paddling, bondage, role play and polyamory.

Even the act of writing out what I really wanted was a turn on. I could see this could be interesting.

He responded by letting me know I was acceptable to begin my training. He told me I was a ‘good girl’ and that I should call him ‘Sir’ or ‘Master’ and that I needed a name. My name would be ‘Sabene’ (meaning slave). We would start with grooming instructions and orgasm control. Without hesitation I gave myself over to the situation. First instruction: send a picture of my ‘pussy’ so that he can tell me what type of haircut I needed. Feeling like a fish out of water I took my first ‘down there’ selfie. Ergh. It looked weird. I mean, with correct studio lighting and a better angle I could probably get the old girl to polish up quite nicely, but this would have to do. I sent it off. ‘Why so hairy?’ – Sir.

Off to the aesthetician I was to go.

My first brazillian