B did seem to understand the severity of my submissive feelings. He knows me well enough to know I would not have taken the decision to tell him lightly. Here's where I still feel the pang of guilt when I recall my reasons. In hindsight (God – that's worth it's weight in gold), I am so glad I told him now and things took the course they did but boy, when Bette Davies said, “fasten your seatbelts, it's going to be a bumpy ride”, she didn't foresee this story! A confined padded room, never mind seatbelts, couldn't have protected us from the turbulence that followed over the next month!

I could blow my trumpet and pretend the love I had for B, knowing what a wonderful man he is and how much he loved me, were all behind my confession, but it would be a blatant lie and I did promise from the beginning absolutely no lies on Soulcast. The reason I had to tell B was because of my desperate need to serve Master! God it drove me nuts having to wait for B to go to Nottingham before I could comply with tasks Master wanted to set me. Master was wonderfully patient and understanding of my position as a married woman, but it was I who got frustrated. As B was semi retired, he would often arrange to go to Nottingham in the middle of the week then, at the last minute, decide he didn't feel like going! I would have been looking forward to the days and nights of service only for this time to be ripped away. I thought I would go insane. It's hard to explain a submissive's desire to serve and please but it is all consuming – like a drug where nothing else matters. It can, unfortunately, make us a little selfish to say the least. Having your submissive nature awaken 15 years into a vanilla relationship/marriage is shocking to the core! You see, a submissive nature doesn't happen over night – it is there from when we are born but, until our adulthood, we do not understand the confusing, conflicting feelings we have – wanting to please but at the same time being resentful if our own needs aren't met. The over-sensitive child, the teenager with mood swings from Hell – it falls into place now. I do believe though, that our subconscious is most intelligent, designed to know when we are ready to deal with certain issues. You hear of victims of crimes or abuse, suddenly have their nemesis jump in their path years later almost out of the blue! Being married, I couldn't serve as effectively as I felt i knew I could. Master made it clear that there would be certain 'training' aspects of my Dom/sub lifestyle that he would txt or telephone me with instruction for certain days when B was away. This is truly intoxicating for a new submissive to be instructed to do tasks and to complete them to the best of your ability, then to be able to tell Master they are done. It would have been like having Master with me even though not in person. These were things that I could not possibly do unless B was away. If I suddenly inserted a butt plug up my ass one morning and went to work with it in, or had 'SLUT' or 'Master's Property' emblazoned above my pussy in black marker pen, something tells me B would have enquired! Serving Master via txt and talking on the phone (I didn't have my wireless laptop back then) with the occasional meeting, seemed ideal for a while but, the further i travelled into the lifestyle, and the more I began to understand what I wanted, the harder it became. I wanted to serve 24/7! This is where the non-communicative, argumentative little cow reared her ugly head. I began to resent B and my marriage getting in the way of my alternative life. I found it hard to function normally. Oh, I'd go to work as usual and be fine there – assertive, focussed, professional but, when I arrived home, I had nothing to distract me from my dilemma. I must have had more 'headaches' than a nervous virgin bride in her first week of marriage! I'd go to bed for a couple of hours straight after dinner – burying my head in the sand really. Along with me receiving and replying to umpteen txts per evening, it's no wonder B thought I was having an affair. He erupted one Tuesday evening (brain like a sieve normally but I remember well that I had been watching 'Spooks') at the beginning of October last year, with pent up anger of the past few weeks (usually the most placid person I know but nobody's fool!). I told him that he had every right to be angry the way i had been acting and I promised him that i would explain everything to him Friday evening. I just needed time to get my head around a few things. Looking back, that must have been the longest 3 days of his life!

* * * * *

After that fateful evening, the arguments were monumental for a few weeks but gradually, a calmness descended over B, as if he was residing himself to the situation. The biggest question he'd had and asked over and over again was why I hadn't asked him to be my Dom. Time after time I explained that I never saw him in that role – no way – it hadn't seemed right. He was my husband. Also, I had gone too far down the line with Master by the time I truly knew who/what I was. I made it clear I couldn't give Master up as not to serve for me now would be like the Olympic runner with no coach or time to beat, the sheep dog with no sheep to shepherd, it would slowly destroy me. One evening he told me he wanted a 'proper' talk. We sat down like the 2 adults we were. He said he wanted to say his piece with no interruption then I could have my say. I knew this was going to be hard for him as he is a man of few words but, when he does speak, it's always the truth and well worth listening to for his knowledge. By the time he had finished explaining what he felt was a very generous compromise, you could have (here comes the old cliché) blown me over with a feather! 3 evenings a week for serving Master and 4 to devote my time to B and our life/marriage. B would ensure I had the living room to myself and would be 'undisturbed' during these evenings. B said i would no longer have to wait for him to go to Nottingham, or be so disappointed and frustrated when he didn't go. The daytime tasks/issue was not resolved at this point but hey, what position was I in to push it?! He asked that I txt Master and put this compromise to him. Still in a state of shock, I did just that. By lunchtime the next day the agreement was settled. I must reiterate that Master is a very considerate, caring person. Traits that led me to choose him in the first place. He truly felt for B and his predicament as he could see how much B loved me but, at the same time, did not consider this to be of his concern as my submissive nature did not rely/feed solely on him. Submission is not something you just do, submissive is what I am.

Oh how I revelled in my evenings serving Master. There I would be, dressed (barely) in my purple and black basque or the see-through scrap of black lace the shop dared to call a 'teddy', black stockings and 5 inch heels, making full use of the numerous toys I'd accumulated over the months under Masters instruction and guidance e.g. leather flogger, small and large paddles, riding crop, nipple clamps, clit clips, vibrator and dildo, butt plugs, candles in glass jars (look up 'waxing') with the odd use of household objects from Master's imagination, and my beloved purple, leather training collar and leash, doing Master's bidding to my body. Master was very fond and very particular about the photographs and videos I sent him from my mobile. Each evening Master would push me further and further to test my limits, never setting me up to fail though with impossible tasks. As Master got to know me better over time, he could see I was someone that had determination to succeed, always trying to better myself against my own benchmarks.

Strange as all of this may appear, the 3 of us managed with this agreement for a few weeks rather well, or so I thought. One of us was not doing as well as the projected persona would have us believe. Little cracks began to appear in the arrangement. An evening that was dedicated to Master would be unceremoniously interrupted (God my cheeks still burn at the memory!!). It didn't seem to occur to B that he didn't need to pop his head around the door at 11.00pm to say “don't worry if you hear the front door, it's just me, i don't think I locked the car”, or “just going to make sure M's dogs are in their kennels as i thought I heard them outside”. !!! How stupid and selfish, selfish, selfish could I have been to think B (or any husband) could possibly tolerate knowing what their wife is doing for the pleasure of herself and another man, with the other man viewing the results to boot! I had been fooling myself. The next few days would be the worst roller-coaster ride of my life. My dad and I (God rest his soul) used to say we preferred the roller-coaster to the merry-go-round of life but, dear Lord, i was giddy with this ride – I wanted so much to get my feet back on secure, stable ground. What was the answer? . . .