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Written by Dee Voyse. Dee is a pervy, kinky, Jewish gal who has been writing since before she was even of Bat Mitzvah age. She was raised on USY dances and Hebrew school slumber parties, and blames her perviness in part on such influences. For more Jewrotica writing by Dee, check out Yichud. Follow Dee on Facebook and Twitter.
“Do you understand the rules, girl?” he said, as I finished looking over the contract.
I looked up at Simon and nodded slowly. This was a moment I had been eagerly awaiting.
We had been married for five years, dated for three years before that, and met for the very first time at a dungeon party. The night of our first meeting was magical; it seemed as if we had known each other our whole lives. We became fast friends and passionate lovers. Our life together was nothing short of wonderful.
He was my soul mate and I loved him more than life itself. We had both been dabbling in kink for a while before we met; however, when we finally got together and began our relationship proper, our kink lives took something of a backseat to everything else. Within the last couple of years, the desire to live a more BDSM lifestyle had reemerged within each of us and we had come to the mutual decision to enter into a D/s relationship. We had started off slowly with some domestic discipline along the lines of light spanking punishments and the like. With time, our BDSM relationship began to blossom and we finally decided to make our dynamic official.
With the offering of a simple day collar and an ornate evening collar, along with a contract of ten “commandments” for me to follow, Simon proposed collaring to me on erev Shavuot – the fact that the holiday and his proposal coincided was not lost on me – and I happily accepted. The terms it covered were all ideas that had been discussed at length prior to his proposal, some of which we had already been doing for some time. It was a relief to see it all spelled out on paper, knowing that the binding agreement was something for both of us to rely upon and uphold.
The contract read:
To my dearest Sarah,
You are my be’shert, my kallah, my love. I am your dominant and you are my submissive. You shall heed these commandments so that our relationship may grow and thrive.
I love you always and forever.
1. Your safe word is adom. Use this only as necessary and I promise to respect your wishes and end any scene that you do not feel comfortable with.
No matter how much trust there was between us, we both knew how things could get out of hand in the heat of the moment. His consideration for my well-being was just one of the reasons why I knew I could put my life in his hands with the utmost certainty that he would keep me safe.
2. You will refer to me as “Sir”.
It was a term that we had agreed upon early in our relationship. One of the first times we ever engaged in play, I blurted it out without thinking. We laughed then, but in all honesty, I liked the way it sounded when I said it and I knew that Simon loved hearing it.
3. I will refer to you as “girl”.
This required a little time for adjustment, but I soon learned to appreciate the reference. It was not a term of belittlement by any means; rather one to lift me up and remind me of my place within our dynamic.
4. You are my submissive and will give yourself to no one else without my express permission.
On “special occasions” Simon would “loan” me out to other dominants with whom we’d made express arrangements for play. Other times, if there was a girl in whom I took an interest, with proper negotiation, he would allow me to engage in a little bit of playtime while he looked on.
5. You are not allowed to wear clothes when we are alone in our bayit.
This rule was one that I initially had misgivings about, but after some time, I learned to accept and appreciate it. I liked the feeling of vulnerability that came with maintaining a lack of tsniut around my love.
6. Your day collar is to be worn at all times.
Another rule that made me feel especially safe and cared for under Simon’s watch. He had put a small charm – a tiny heart with a keyhole – on a thin, satin cord so that I could even wear it in the shower. It was simple, yet elegant and subtle enough for everyday wear.
7. Your night collar is to be worn between erev Shabbat and Havdalah.
The sabbath was a special time for us. We used it to reflect on our relationship and honor each other. The wearing of my night collar was symbolic of this and the beautiful and heavy black leather piece felt perfectly comfortable and lovely around my neck when I first tried it on. I knew that I would cherish the moment each week that he would place it around my neck
8. Traditional Shabbat dinner is to be cooked on Friday night – chicken, freshly baked challah, and wine.
I was a great cook and a proud housewife. I loved baking challah and chicken, and imbibing sweet-as-cough-syrup Manischewitz wine on Friday and Saturday nights. Not only did I love to prepare food, I loved to serve and keep tradition. This was also the only exception to the “no clothes when we are alone at home” rule. I would wear a flowery dress – no panties – and a white lace head covering. I would light the candles, bless the wine and challah, and we would eat. It was a beautiful weekly tradition that I looked forward to.
9. Marital sex is to be had every Friday night.
The mitzvah of onah is one that Simon definitely enjoyed keeping. This rule was almost more for him than for me, given the fact that Jewish law indicated the requirement for a husband to provide sex for his wife on a regular basis. That said, I certainly loved it too!
10. Shabbat ends with our Havdalah.
Our weekly version involved sensory deprivation and wax play! He would blindfold me, hold a box of spices under my nose, feed me wine, and drip hot candle wax all over my naked body.
I finished signing the bottom of the paper and knelt before my Sir, presenting him with the contract. He smiled and pet my head.
“Good girl,” he said.
I looked down at the floor and he gently lifted my chin so that our gaze met.
“Now then,” he grinned, “seeing as though you’re already on your knees, love…”