My Early Need to Submit

While reading one of the current posts dealing with FLR I was reminded of how I got started in my need to submit. I may have been about four years old.

Our house was a place where anybody who knew us wanted to visit and stay. My mother had her female friends come on cold winter evenings to join in shared warmth and friendly companionship. They would sit around a large trestle table for hours, sipping tea and conversing on subjects that I don’t recall. They worked on crafts, such as embroidery, crochet, etc. just to fill gaps in conversation.

These women were different in age, way of dressing, way of grooming, their demeanor, and how they approached life. I learned to appreciate the wide vista of female charm in their presence. I would carry on conversations with them, and everybody seemed to love me. In turn, I was awed by these females who had such interest in me.

This was a time and a place where entertainment as we know today was temporarily unavailable. I must have been a cute little guy. I could sing, and they must have thought that I was funny, for they often asked me to do so. I was shy. I had agreed to sing, but only if they did not watch me. I don’t remember the details, but somehow I ended up under the big table as a way of becoming invisible to them. Apparently the routine worked, for on subsequent evenings I was again asked to perform. It did not take me long to realize that I was looking forward to it.

From my position, which was totally different from anybody’s point of view, I was in a magical place. Being invisible I could look but could not be seen. I had a view of many female legs. I could see some bare knees, which even today are some of my favorite things to cherish. Occasionally I had a glimpse of an inner thigh. Although I never saw anything past that, I was curious. Alas, my curiosity was not satisfied until much later in a different venue. But this set me on a path of loving anything female. It became natural to me to succumb to their charm, and in my mind, remain a slave to women.

I have never acted on the slave part, but it is still fueling my fantasy. I don’t feel that women, in general, are superior to me. But I understand that they have qualities that can make me feel good. They have a way to make everything all right. They can make me do
things that no man could. They can command, ask, or even hint, and I comply. They elicit in me feelings that are pure (and often kinky, but that’s another subject). I want to love, protect, and to serve them because I feel it appropriate.

My feelings are mostly centered on MW now, although I don’t claim that I am unaffected by most other females. I have this sense of loyalty that gets in the way if I am ever tempted. Even last night I had a vivid dream in which a woman charmed me to the point when she kissed me passionately, and I reciprocated. While still in the dream, I began to analyze the issues, and could not justify proceeding with the seduction of me. Pity.

I am convinced that if MW allowed me access to other females, I would happily comply with any demands that they would have on me. I am highly sexed that way, and it would be fulfillment of some recurrent fantasies. I also know that in spite of my willingness on this subject, neither will MW allow or suggest that I do that, nor will I undertake it without her approval. Pity again.