Real diary of a submissive, entry 4
March 30th 2025
Dear Diary,
Sunday Surrender
Today is Sunday, and I’m still on this peaceful farm trip with my family. The crisp morning air carries the scent of damp earth and fresh-cut grass, a stark contrast to the heat simmering beneath my skin. I still go through my daily routine—waking early, stretching, moving through my yoga flow—but today, he has added a twist. A command, a challenge, a test of obedience and vulnerability.
I must be completely nude. Every time.
Just the thought of it sends shivers down my spine, a deep, aching need unfurling in my core. The idea of being so bare, so exposed, while he watches—silent, calculating, taking in every movement—makes my breath hitch.Just thinking about it makes me sexually aroused. I imagined the scene:
I step onto the mat, the morning sun warming my skin, my body already humming with anticipation. As I flow from pose to pose, I can almost feel his gaze tracing every inch of me, devouring the way my body bends, stretches, and submits to the movements. My long legs extend into a perfect split, my spine curves into a deep backbend, and I wonder—how does he see me? Does he admire the strength in my form, the grace in my lines? Or is he simply indulging in the sheer eroticism of it all?
A whisper of wind caresses my bare skin, and I tremble, imagining his touch instead—firm, possessive, claiming. The thought alone makes my thighs clench. I bite my lip, pushing deeper into the next pose, knowing full well how sinful I must look, how easily I could tempt him if he were here.
He isn’t. But he doesn’t have to be. His presence lingers in my mind, his control threading through my every movement. And that is enough. Enough to leave me breathless. Enough to make my body ache for something more.
Something more alluring, more scorching, more intimate. Something that doesn’t just tease but truly satiates—the kind of touch, the kind of dominance that seeps into my bones and claims every inch of me. A force that answers the silent, desperate cries of my deepest desires, the ones simmering just beneath the surface, begging to be unleashed.
I want him to see. I want him to claim it.
I exhale slowly, grounding myself, yet completely lost in the spell he has cast over me. With me, Yoga has never felt so wickedly intoxicating this way.
And today, I discovered new boundaries and gained a clearer understanding of the lines I must not cross.
The trip to the farm is coming to an end, and my family is packing up to head home. Tomorrow is Monday—a new week awaits, filled with joy, the delicate balance between work and personal life, and fresh experiences yet to unfold. I take a deep breath, letting the crisp air fill my lungs, steadying my mind, and replenishing my spirit. There’s a quiet sense of renewal in this moment, a readiness to embrace whatever lies ahead.
There’s a small yet fascinating thought that lingers in my mind—because of our time zone difference, I always feel like I am the moon, and you are the sun. When the moon sleeps, the sun rises, and when the sun rests, the moon takes its place in the sky.
But here’s what makes it even more meaningful: for the moon to shine, it needs the sun’s light to reflect upon it, to guide its way in the darkness. Just like that, I find myself drawn to you, relying on your warmth, your presence, to illuminate my own path. It’s a beautiful and symbolic connection, isn’t it?
I repeat to myself
I have the will to become more submissive
I have worth
I love myself more every day
I am an energized and capable submissive
Submission feels right to me
Submission arouses me
Learning to be submissive is liberating
When I feel submitted I love myself more
Loving myself more is arousing
I have the will to become more submissive