Not so very many months ago, I was an untested, untried submissive in search of a Dominant, wondering if my interest in submission would ever extend beyond my imagination. Then, as I believe it was meant to be, I found Sir, an experienced Dominant willing to take on the responsibility and demands of training a green submissive, and then to do the training over a very long distance. I live in a medium size city in a Southeastern state whilst Sir lives in a Northeastern state with a distance of over 750 miles between our two cities.

After two short in-person meetings, my training by Sir continued only via computer and limited telephone contacts for quite some time. On a late night, just one month after I met Sir for the first time, Sir granted me permission to call. After we had exchanged general news, Sir directed me to stretch out on my bed, legs spread, with the phone on “speaker,” then Sir explained he would direct my hands as his “remote” hands and instructed me to use “his hands” to slap my cunt. As earlier instructed, I was dressed in a nylon suit – a pair of jet black, crotchless pantyhose worn without shoes, topped by another pair of jet black, crotchless pantyhose over my upper torso and arms, with my head through the crotch panel, so my – Sir’s “remote” – hands were really “paws.” The strokes to my cunt were not about discipline or punishment; they were illustrating – to me and confirming to Sir – my submission was in all ways, always.

My arms stretched above my head, bringing Sir’s paws lashing down on my cunt, stroke after stroke, alternating left and right. I also was instructed to count the strokes delivered by each paw. I tried counting, and keeping the variable number of strokes per side straight whilst trying to process the pain – pain I was readily causing myself. I also tried to understand why, although I felt physical pain, I was so sexually excited, there was wetness seeping down my thighs and into the crack of my ass.

Of course, I failed to count accurately, exactly as Sir anticipated and planned. The first error came relatively quickly; learning that a mistake meant starting over at the beginning, as if no strokes had been issued, was a jolt, but not very upsetting at first. I just tried harder, fully expecting to succeed in my next count. I soon found trying harder wasn’t enough, and I failed again; and again; and again. After several repeated attempts, my cunt had received many, many strokes. Given my inability to count accurately, I had no idea how many. My cunt ached, yet I was so sexually excited, emotionally satisfied, and mentally confused that I could barely contain that energy so as to avoid adding yet another distraction from the count.

From the confusion created by sexual excitement, emotional overload and physical pain, I finally realized Sir was calling me. But, for the first time during any of our telephone calls employing the speakerphone, his voice seemed to be coming from a very great distance, and, startlingly, I didn’t care to answer him. Rather, I felt like continuing to float away from that red, punished cunt, and the pain it was radiating out into that body I now seemed to be watching from a very disinterested and remote distance.

Yet, as Sir expected, my submission could not be denied, and I finally responded to Sir’s voice, to his instruction to tell him what was happening to me, how I felt. For one of the few times in my very verbal, fluent life, I had no words sufficient even to begin to communicate the emotional impact of the experience. I tried to explain how I felt I had been out of my body, observing the falling strokes, and recognizing but not feeling the pain the strokes were generating in my body. Sir explained that what I had experienced was “sub space” – something about which I knew nothing, but would later research in depth. Sir insisted that I continue responding to his voice, that I intensify my connection to it, to him, so as to keep me safe and centered.

Reluctantly recognizing that, as Sir’s submissive, I had to follow his instructions, and sensing that there were potential dangers “out there” of which I was completely unaware, I continued to respond when Sir posed questions or asked for comments. Nonetheless, the sensation of floating, of being other than the body stretched out and suffering on the bed, whilst still being intimately part of and familiar with that body, was remarkable for me in very many ways. In addition to the sensations and feelings the experience evoked, the challenge to learn more about sub space, and the knowledge that my trust in Sir was so absolute that I could abandon my body to his long distance care were all important lessons to me.

After the first trip into sub space, I wanted to learn more, and with Sir’s permission I began intensive internet research to find out all I could about what sub space was and how to access it. Unfortunately, despite the dedication to which I brought to the search, I found very little information was available, and that nearly all the information that was available was written from a Dominant’s perspective. Whilst, as a submissive, I have no issue about Dominants BEING Dominant, I also know that having someone explain and teach something he/she does not actually know firsthand is not very helpful. Fortunately, Sir has taken the time and care to work with me, to help me expand and explore what sub space is for me. In addition, Sir encouraged me to write about my own experience of sub space in the hope that other submissives can benefit from what I know and have found in my own internal space that no one can breach.

There were a few additional trips for me into sub space with Sir supervising via long distance telephone hookup. Each trip seemed to allow me greater distance from the physical world, and even the emotional world that accompanies the physical body. After a few excursions into sub space, I was able to tell Sir that I truly felt no connection to my body at all – not only did I not feel the pain of the strokes raining down, but I didn’t feel the tears sliding down my cheeks or the sexual juices dripping down onto the bed underneath that ass I could no longer feel pressing down onto the covers.

Sir tested the separation that had occurred by instructing me to orgasm, and although the orgasm that resulted was long and intense, the part of me that had retreated from the pain into sub space would not be lured back to partake of the pleasure of orgasm. Once again, Sir required me to explain what I was feeling, how and what I was observing. And, once again, I found it more difficult to put into words the feeling of separateness, of quiet, of peace, of utter disinterestedness not only in the body I seemed to watch from a distance, but in everything and everyone in the world from which I seemed so distant and distinct.

After a few episodes of exploring the strength of my detachment, and the extent to which I had begun bidding my body “Goodbye” on Sir’s command, Sir began reconnecting my sub space self with my physical self. Sir began working with me so that I could learn to disassociate myself from the physical pain Sir instructed me to inflict, whilst feeling deeply and completely the pleasure Sir allowed me when satisfied with my work in learning to access and expand my experience of sub space. I am willing to admit that I came to sub space ready and willing to vacate my physical body – and having done that on a strictly emotional basis over the years in which I struggled with serious obesity and self-image issues. With Sir’s guidance, encouragement, and help, I have managed to lose a great deal of weight since I have known Sir. More importantly, I have learned to forego food as a panacea when life is difficult, when I feel alone or when I am tired or stressed. My entire relationship with food has altered, so that it is no longer where I turn for help. Instead, Sir has helped me understand that I must turn to myself, to my inner strength and determination to overcome the difficulties life brings to each of us.

That said, it was a major component of my sub space experiences that I felt so removed from my physical body, from its pain, its emotions and its experiences of submission that was deepening and developing with every sub space trip. Sir was able to bring my emotional self back into alignment with my physical body; Sir helped me understand that, for me, the pain is a necessary component not only of my submission and service, but my sexual excitement and fulfillment.

And, of course, Sir ultimately succeeded in making me understand that I just not use sub space as a buffer from all experience, and that, as a responsible Dominant, Sir could not let me just continue to drift further and further away from myself, not even on a merely emotional level. Through hard work and diligence on the part of Sir, I ultimately was able to remain more present in my physical body, but to use the pain, to work through the pain so as to go deeper into sub space without losing myself completely.

Then came the time when I was able to be back in Sir’s physical presence. We both were excited about being together whilst I journeyed into sub space. And so there truly are no words to convey the complete disappointment I felt when I could NOT access sub space despite Sir’s encouragement, his careful gauging and placing of the strokes, or my earnest desire to get there for Sir, as well as for myself. It took a lot of thinking, and self-examination, to finally admit to myself that I am so seldom able to be in Sir’s physical presence that I was too greedy to absent myself from him even as short a distance as sub space represented. That part of me that resists true submission, that reaches out for what it wants without permission or consideration of the true object of desire – service to Sir – blocked every attempt I made during my very short time with Sir to achieve sub space. It was a debilitating and humbling experience for me, and a frustrating and disappointing one for Sir.

After that failure, Sir began to work regularly with me on achieving sub space more readily, entering into it more deeply, and trusting him as the only link back to myself. With practice, I learned that the only sounds that could reach me in sub space – other than the omnipresent voice of Sir himself — were those of a household emergency. For however long Sir would permit me to go to that distant country that exists within myself, everything was quiet, calm, peaceful and serene. Sir’s authoritative, patient and measured voice meted out his instructions, helping me become better grounded in the lessons Sir was teaching me outside of sub space, reinforcing the improvements in self-esteem and submissive growth that I had made since our prior sub space session.

As a woman who has spent nearly all her life being independent, take charge, and in control, the very idea that I could ever be completely in the command of another, and that other presented itself merely as a disembodied voice at the end of a telephone line should have been mind-boggling, and yet I embraced it, I longed for it, and I sought it whenever the opportunity was allowed. There is no way to explain the emotional content of sub space to those who have not and, if Dominant, cannot go there – it is the place where I am most myself, but the self that is most submissive and belongs most fully and completely to Sir.

My next opportunity to visit sub space whilst Sir was physically present came weeks later. After I arrived, the evening with Sir had passed as evenings with Sir often do. We had dinner together at a nearby restaurant, then returned to his hotel room, where I stripped down to my jet-black, crotchless pantyhose, then added another pair as the top of the nylon suit Sir prefers. Once I was properly attired, I went onto all fours and approached Sir, who was sitting at the computer. Sir allowed me to assist him in undressing, and in unpacking. Once those tasks were completed, I was allowed to bring Sir a glass of wine, which Sir consumed whilst working on his computer and allowing me to suck his cock and applying strokes to my ass with his cat-o-nine-tails. Then Sir placed my “bitch” chain around my neck and body, yet another symbol of my submission that I would wear until Sir released me from it in the morning. When the chain was in place, Sir instructed me to get onto the bed, legs outspread, for administration of strokes from the cat and his belt. Once Sir considered my ass adequately warmed up, Sir instructed me to turn over onto my back, and began applying strokes to my cunt with his belt. The first strokes were excruciatingly painful – magnitudes more severe than the strokes with his “remote paws” that are used when Sir ushers me into sub space by telephone. The blows from Sir’s belt were even much more painful than the strokes applied by hand to my cunt when I failed to access sub space when we were together before.

Very soon after the strokes began and the pain began radiating outward from my cunt, sub space began to open up for me, allowing me a place to be safe and secure from the physical pain whilst observing and learning from it. Sir continued to rain the strokes down on my cunt until Sir confirmed that they were not eliciting any reaction, despite the force with which they were being applied. I would carry the bruises across my cunt and abdomen for weeks afterward, providing further confirmation to me each time I saw them of what my body had endured in Sir’s service, and how severe the pain from which my trip into sub space insulated me must have been.

Once I was moving into sub space, Sir began manipulating my nipples — stretching them, squeezing them, pinching them, twisting them, whilst encouraging me to use that new pain as a means to go further and deeper into sub space. Eventually, it began to seem to me as if I really were out in space. I could observe everything that was happening in the room, but it was from a great distance and did not involve me personally at all. I recognized Sir, and myself but the connection I felt was with Sir, not with the body on which Sir was working. As from the beginning of my relationship with Sir, something about Sir spoke to me on a basic level beyond words or even thought. Something about Sir called up my submissive nature and offered it an expression it had been denied all the prior years I had lived. The strength of Sir’s dominant nature provided the reassurance and security I had never had before, releasing my submissive self to begin its journey into service and full submission to Sir. And so, with that connection so strong between us, I knew that I was connected to Sir, no matter how far off into sub space I drifted. In fact, I began to believe that, although Sir seemed so far away, Sir was with me in sub space, directing my path, guiding my journey into deeper and deeper sub space to support my submissive growth and development.

Sir guided me so that there was a definite direction and purpose in my sub space travels. Whilst I have no idea what his purpose is, I also have no need to know that. I know that I serve Sir by following his instructions to the best of my ability, trusting in his dominance and his care. In sub space, it seems easier for me to let go of my tendency to need to control and manage everything. In sub space, I am a creature of trust, guided by One who knows better than I what I need and want most. In sub space, I learn and adapt more readily than at any other time.

It seems that, in addition to getting away from my physical body, sub space gives me respite from my conscious mind, at least to some extent. Although I am aware of what Sir is telling me, the usual filters of past experience and self-responsibility are absent. When in sub space, I rely completely on Sir’s guidance and protection. And that reliance has never been misplaced. Sir uses my time in sub space to reinforce the positive messages that I receive from him daily. Sir reminds me that I am a happy and proud submissive, serving a Dominant who has brought me far in a few months. Sir helps ground me in the knowledge that my pride in myself grows out of the increased self-esteem, higher self-opinion, greater self-assuredness, improved self-confidence, better self-control, and dedicated self-discipline I now feel all the time. All these improved feelings about MY SELF (rather than my work performance, intelligence, or caring for others) not only benefit from my service and submission to Sir, but, because the spring from that submission and service, are increasing daily. Sir assists my efforts to lose weight and improve my physical conditioning by recognizing the strides I have made in those areas, and supporting my drive to improve in both.

Time in sub space is not merely contemplative or instructive. It is also restorative. There is no peace, no calm, and no quiet like that of sub space. When I occupy sub space, I am alone but for Sir’s voice and instructions. There are no background noises to distract or discomfit me. There are no chores needing to be done. There are no demands on my time or attention. In sub space, I merely AM, I exist as a being without form or substance, without deadlines or responsibilities. Sub space allows me to receive Sir’s instructions more directly, more purely than when they are filtered through my completely aware mind that processes millions of data inputs every day. Sub space prevents me from “dropping the ball” because I was not paying the full attention Sir’s instructions require when issued.

Sub space is like a free vacation but one with no bags to pack, no passport to secure, no security checkpoints to negotiate. My trips to sub space have been varied in length and intensity, but I always complete them feeling rested, refreshed, relaxed, and ready to resume my submission and service to Sir with new vigor and intention. It is interesting that, whilst sub space is a place and time in which I relinquish control absolutely to Sir, and in ways that I can only strive to replicate when I am consciously serving him, it is the place in which I feel most myself. The phrase that most often comes to mind about my experience of sub space is from the Peace Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi – specifically, the lines: “. . . for it is in giving that we receive, . . . and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.” In sub space, I give all that I am and have been in life to that point up to Sir, petitioning him to mold and instruct that self into a better and more worthy submissive. In sub space, the ego-driven self that existed before I began the journey to fullest expression of my submissive self dies, and my submissive life begins, hopefully for the “eternity” left to a woman whose physical body is past 50.

One of the reasons writing about sub space is so difficult is that it is not always the same. Each “trip” begins and ends at different points than have been “visited” before, and each journey covers different aspects of my submission and service. Even when Sir focuses on the same issues of my personality that are so engrained they require nearly constant effort to defeat, the experience of dealing with those issues varies, depending on how deeply I am into sub space when they are brought up, and how Sir brings them to my notice and focuses my attention on rooting out the insecurities, doubts and self-deception that kept me bound up in those bad feelings about myself for so long.

Whilst Sir has been working with the failings and shortcomings typical of a completely green submissive, Sir also has had to deal with, and encourage me to overcome, the personality issues I have had so long that I had come to believe they defined me. There was a time when I sabotaged every diet effort because, in my heart of hearts, I was confused and concerned about who I would be if I stopped being obese — the “fat girl”. There was a time when I felt my primary calling in life was to make everyone else’s life easier and to keep everyone happy with themselves and everyone around them. There was a time when I could not bring myself to deny anyone any service I could do, even if that level of caring for others left no time for me to care for me.