The Journey… Chapter One – Growing Up

This is Chapter One of a multi-part series of blogs, describing my journey through life and how I found the D/s lifestyle. Hope you enjoy, and please bare with me through the boring bits – the story builds through the chapters...

Growing up in a fairly small town in South Wales, a town that most city dwellers would consider rural, even though we were practically at the cusp of the bright lights and high luxury living compared to many other towns and villages not too far away, it’s hard to really explain how my interest in the world of D/s began.

Nothing around me in my childhood and teenage years gave me any exposure to that kind of lifestyle. I was just a fairly shy and quiet girl, and yet still quite a girly girl. I had a few boyfriends in my teens, but nothing too major, and despite being somewhat pretty, I hadn’t blossomed quite yet, so I was by no means the most popular girl with either the boys or the girls. I was a happy medium, a “floater” when it came to the high school cliques. I was friends with the popular groups, but equally friendly with the smart kids and the sporty kids.

My parents thought I was a pretty good daughter, I wasn’t into drugs, or smoking, or drinking, I didn’t stay out too late, too often, and anything I did do wrong, they rarely found out about, so I was seemingly a picture perfect daughter. I even had a busy extra-curricular life, with a keen interest in gymnastics, which I did between the ages of 8 and 16, finishing with a lacklustre and failed attempt to become a rhythmic gymnast of national level. Rhythmic Gymnastics is the one where you jump and dance around with the big ribbon – just so you know! Lol

I was the apple of my dad’s eye, his only little girl (I have two brothers, one younger, one older), but I idolised my mum and loved her to pieces. She was everything I thought a woman should be – she always made the effort to look nice, a bit of make-up, nice feminine clothes, she was a good wife and mother, and she was independent. She worked, she was smart and intelligent, and she brought in her own share of the household income.

So where did I go wrong?! LOL ;-p

I’m not saying I had the perfect childhood, but I’m certainly not going to complain about it. It was pretty good, I felt loved and supported, and it’s set me up with good principals and a good base model to follow for when I have my own family in the future.

I came out of my shell a little when I was about 16 or 17. My friendship groups expanded as I left school and began at college, and my personality began to flourish as I developed my own identity. I was a bit of a “follower” at school, I liked what everyone else liked, my music taste was what everyone else listened to, I shopped where everyone else shopped. I was the typical shy, non-confrontational teen who fitted in with everybody because I had become the same as everybody. Looking back I can see how I envied the “individuals” at school. Some loved them, some hated them, but at least they were who they were!

My college was a bit further away from my hometown, so I guess you could say my horizons had expanded and I followed in my mum’s footsteps in becoming more independent and self-reliant, taking a weekend job in a nearby hotel, cleaning the rooms and helping with other minor chores around the place, to fund my travel and expanding social life. And meeting new people meant I could start afresh and be a new me. I felt renewed and re-invigorated.

I know what you’re all thinking – this blog is boring, where’s the sex and slutiness?!

Be patient my loyal followers, I’m about to turn 17 when my sexual experiences start, and all of this was just setting the scene for when I turn 18, move 200 miles away from home to go to University, and find my inner-slut!

So it was Valentine’s Day of the year 2000 when I finally lost my virginity, at the ample age of 17 years, 4 months, and 4 days. My college boyfriend was the guy it happened with – we’d been dating for nearly four months, and he’d been wanting it to happen for about, I don’t know, 3 months and 29 days! Lol. We’d got to “second base” several times already, getting half naked, fumbling and fondling under clothes, and he’d got a few hand-jobs just to keep him happy.

He had the house to himself as his parents were out for the evening, and to be fair to him, he’d set the scene just right. Candles, soft lighting, soft music, it was generally how a girl wants her first time to be. We kissed, we took it slowly, we explored each others bodies, I gave him the first of many blow jobs that he’d be getting over the next several months from me, and we progressed to the bedroom and made love for the first time. And it was a very enjoyable first time at that – he was just the right mix of gentle, forceful, and guiding, taking the lead due to his slightly greater experience.

We dated for several months after this and we developed a very good sexual relationship, learning a lot from each other, and we both enjoyed the occasional “game” where he just “took” me, just taking control and having his way with me no matter what.

I was going to say that it was the first time I realised that I enjoyed giving away my control to the guy for sexual matters. But actually it was the second…

To be continued...

Chapter Two will be posted in the next 7-14 days, in the meantime, please feel free to e-mail me your thoughts, feedback and comments. I can be found at blogslut13@yahoo.co.uk - you may need to add me to your "safe list" if you don't want my reply to get caught in your spam filter.