Thoughts about consent in a fulltime FemDom relationship

The comment made by strongnsubmissive in response to my previous post prompted me to ruminate on the idea of consent.

I have no safeword. My relationship with my Mistress is as lopsided as it can possibly be. She holds all the strings: she controls the money and makes all the rules. My body is hers to use. My will is hers to control.

This is all, of course, my choice.

By some definition of choice.

When she tells me to “Strip, slaveboy, and kiss my feet,” my head swims and I am in an erotic fog. I move quickly to obey, disrobing, the very fact of shedding my clothes enhancing my already existing state of vulnerability and surrender. By the time my lips are on her beautiful feet, my mind is already long gone past any thoughtful consideration of “is this really my choice?” or even “is this appropriate or safe?”

Her control of me is like a drug and I thrive on the fear and the arousal inherent in my ever present surrender. I am addicted to my Mistress.

By my own choice...

By some definition of choice.

This state of surrender and naked vulnerability (even when fully clothed) only exists inside the context of my relationship with my Mistress Wife and not in any other random interaction or relationship. It implies a level of trust that is built on experience.

For example, when I contemplate the same situation with an unknown woman who I somehow know to be dominant, telling me to strip and to kneel at her feet: it is an exciting fantasy but in the reality of the doing, I know that I would be very guarded inside; all of my emotional and mental armor would be fully operational and the act would feel like an empty gesture.

In this context of unconditional surrender, I don't think it is even possible to have a way to have a discussion about what I would like or not like, as equals, apart from the inherent power imbalance that exists. Mistress knows that when I get a whiff of something that pleases her that I will start to move my thinking and my feelings in the direction of trying to please her.

She uses this fact to her advantage and to my miserable delight.

For a relatively minor example: Early on in our relationship, she told me that it turned her on to see me naked, on my hands and knees, scrubbing the kitchen floor. Immediately, that statement created in my mind an urge to scrub the kitchen floor. Mistress further used this urge by rationing it. She would have me do a quick cursory sweep of the kitchen floor two or three weekends in a row, and would say something like “And maybe next week, I'll let you scrub the floor, on your hands and knees for me, while I read a book on the couch, where I can watch you. You'll like that.” She has done this so many times now that she can tell me to go and scrub the kitchen floor while she goes shopping at her favorite bookstore, knowing that by the time she returns the floor will be clean and I will also be in a desperate state of arousal, ready to do whatever else will please her.

For a more extreme example: I am by nature a very jealous person. Mistress knows this. However, over the last few months, Mistress Laura has slowly teased me about having sex with a male acquaintance of ours, call him “Bill,” communicating with me very clearly about how much it would turn her on. What does this do to me on the inside? I have a rush of excitement, wanting to please her, wanting to see her excitement, even delighting in the thought of my tortured jealousy and unhappiness... I am still jealous, to be sure, but that is secondary to my need to turn her on, to make her happy.

She sometimes punctuates these... conversations or interactions by having me lie on the ground on my back at her feet, naked, while she presses her foot onto my (her) cock and telling me in detail about all the things she thinks about doing with Bill.

A real life snippet of the kinds of things she says to me while I am under her foot, from my memory: “My miserable jealous little boy... maybe I would make you kneel, at the side of the bed, dressed in your pretty little girl skirt and my collar... So you could see clearly, Bill kissing me and pushing me onto the bed and pushing his cock into me... And I know you would want to taste my juices... Because you know it turns me on... and you would, when I would have you suck Bill's cock so he could get hard again for me. You would do that for me, wouldn't you?”

Later, Mistress Laura tells me that she does not think that she would ever actually do such a thing, but she needs me to understand that she could do it, and that I would really have no choice in the matter.

This state of affairs is my choice, of course.

By some perverse definition of choice.