Where It Began: The Ice Pirates

๐ŸŽฅ The Scene That Marked Me
In 1984, when I was 7 years old, I saw a film called The Ice Pirates. It was a comedy space adventure, but one scene changed me forever. In it, men are strapped to a conveyor belt. They are stripped, shaved, examined, and processed like cattle. At the end of the line waits a machine designed to take away their manhood. Just before the metal teeth nashers do the deed between their legs, a princess intervenes. She selects them to keep their bits; she has picked them to serve her, to be her property, her slaves.

๐Ÿ‘‘ Claimed and Displayed
The men are then dressed in tight Lycra, their bodies on display, owned in a way that is both exposing and erotic. At 7, I did not know why this transfixed me. I only knew I could not look away. The mix of exposure, control, objectified, and ownership burned itself into me. My body recognised it even when my mind could not name it.

๐Ÿ’  The Spark of Submission
That moment was the first time I felt the pull of submission. I wanted to be one of those men. Stripped, helpless, chosen, and kept. I wanted to be saved from destruction by a powerful woman and remade as hers. It was not a game. It was not a passing thought. It was the moment my submissive wiring lit up, and it has never gone out.

๐Ÿซ€ My Confession/Reflection
This is where it began for me. Not with a partner. Not with an encounter. With a film. With a Princess who chose who to save and who to own. I was 7 when I knew what I wanted: to be claimed, to be taken out of the crowd, to be spared because she wanted me, and to be displayed for her pleasure.

I am still waiting for my Princess. The one who will save me, not by sparing me, but by claiming me completely.


๐Ÿ–ค See the clip that awoke my submissive side:

https://vimeo.com/1112868208?fl=pl&fe=sh


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