Monday, December 22, 2014

Air Tight

Only one was a real cock, though. 

Air tight = all the holes are filled. 

Well, not my nose, but the other three.  

That is what I was on Sunday, and it was FAN-tastic!

His cock in my mouth, the extra large vibrator (not the magic wand, but the big silver one) in my cunt and the butt plug in my ass, it is an amazing feeling.    

Plus he was caning me.   

Last night I asked him to hit me again, and this was after the afternoon session of a medium hard caning which left me sore but unwelted.  He put me over his knee and spanked me until I cried, more as an emotional release than anything else.   He also tortured me with some pressure points.  Just try pressing- hard- straight into a nipple. 


Then when I couldn't come on command he grabbed my throat, smacked me and pinned me up against the back of the couch. That'll do it.  :) 

He's so good to me. :) 



We had our Solstice Bonfire Saturday night. I sent my box of memories up with the smoke for my Grandpa.  People asked me how I was doing and I just couldn't answer.  Shhhh, I'm busy compartmentalizing!  I skipped on to another subject and then felt bad about that later.   But I really didn't want to bring the whole group down with my sadness.  I wanted to be happy, and I was.

The fire didn't want to light at first, as the air was pretty damp and Master was opposed to using an accelerant on there.  Eventually it did turn into a nice blaze though, one that burned all night and all the next day too, ensuring that the sun will come up again and winter will end eventually.    

We drank hot cocoa with schnapps or Cow Pie liqueur and ate a lot, and played Cards Against Humanity.    I had made praline candies and the kids made Rice Krispy treats with only a little supervision. 

 There were brats, which I couldn't find the toasting spears for (they got put away somewhere after camp).   Eh, microwave 'em, no problem!   Also, marshmallows were toasted in the fire, mostly for the kids.  I was too full of other food by then to have any.   

People that stayed overnight had breakfast pancakes and bacon cooked up in the morning. It was a lovely time. We are so blessed to have such dear friends.

This morning I'm tired, but I feel like I have never been more in love.   None of this would be possible without my Master. 

Friday, December 19, 2014

Talking About Death

My Grandpa died yesterday.   I hadn't seen him in the last 10 years because of distance and life and reasons, but all my memories of him from growing up were happy.    We always spent Christmas at their house, with my parents driving all night while us kids slept in the bed in the back of the station wagon, to arrive at a beautifully decorated, wonderful smelling (of breakfast) home, usually at sunrise. 

They are not holding a funeral, so I'm working on my own memorial service for the bonfire this weekend.  We'll have people over, but I plan to make it sort of a private ceremony for myself, not a big group announcement.  I have written several pages of memories, long hand, and made a copy, also written out, not on the copy machine.  This seemed important.  I talked to my mom, and she gave me some of her memories to write down also.  My aunt was there also and she had some to add.   I took some of my photos of him and made copies of them.  I plan to put it all in a small box and burn it on the fire.  It is a spiritual thing that I can't really explain.  Fire. Death. Rebirth.  The Solstice.   The fire will be in our garden, giving nutrients to next year's food.  I will keep the second copy of the memories and pictures with my important papers.  

They say men are good compartmentalizers.  But I'm a REALLY good compartmentalizer.  I have one function over here in this side of my brain still working as normal.  And then I have the grief part over here quietly falling apart.  I just want to DO things.   So, this is what I'm working on doing.  

Thursday, December 18, 2014

Spread and Trapped: Ecstasy

I stood naked with my hands on my dresser. I could see him uncoiling the bullwhip behind me.   I shivered with fear/anticipation.  This was going to be my warm up.  

The whip licked all over me, from shoulders to calves, sometimes wrapping to the front of my thighs.  It stung but he didn't do it hard enough to cut skin.   Then the belt.  I was so eager for all of it!  
The misery stick as well came out to play.   

He stepped in close, kissed me and then pushed me down to suck his cock.  

By the time he got my arms strapped onto the spreader bar my cunt was dripping and ready.   I was on my elbows and knees on the floor.  He entered me from behind and after a few minutes I tried to raise up to my hands but he commanded "Head down!" and pushed my head onto the floor.   I stayed in position until he pulled out and stood up, when I was peering around behind me to see what he was doing.   Insatiably curious.  

He came back with another spreader bar, attached my ankles to it and resumed fucking me.  I stayed head down until I felt like I needed to reposition and then got up to my hands and knees.  He stopped again, telling me we were going to have to do something more drastic to fix this.  He pulled my arms back between my legs and fastened them to the same spreader bar as my ankles.    Now I had no choice but to press my face to the floor.

Ankles on the outside, wrists in the middle

Then he got out the whip.  

 I was spread and exposed and each painful mark of the short single tail reminded me that it could be worse.  He could be aiming it on my exposed butthole or cunt.  

And then the whip reached those tender bits, Gaaaaah! 

 I squealed and screamed.  He wanted me to be loud.  There was no one else home and there wouldn't be for hours.   I lost all sense of time.   He took me again, his with his hand on my collar, pulling it back to choke me, and then with his belt wrapped around my stomach to pull me in hard and deep on each thrust. It was so bloody marvelous.  I came over and over.

Eventually he took off the spreader bar and had me put in the buttplug, then resumed fucking me.    He also paused to take some pictures.  You can see the red marks.  

Already well fucked and not even close to done

When he was done and had come, he told me it was time for the serious beatings to begin.  He gathered up a handful of implements- two paddles- the small one and the long wavy one named Kris- the misery stick and a regular cane, and he tied me to the bed face down.   

Like I said, I lost all track of time, but he sung Christmas carols and this coupled with pain put me in an other worldly, heavenly, seriously subspaced, almost religious place of ecstasy.  Sometimes I sang along with him.  Keeping me tied by the wrists to the headboard, he turned me over to use the misery stick on my breasts.  And got out the magic wand vibrator.  I was still tied down, so he held it up against my clit and made me come repeatedly.   His hand was half inside me.  
After he untied me I guess I kind of passed out for an hour.   

It has been a VERY long time since we had quite this much fun.  Master and I have both missed it. 

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Yes, Master

So yesterday Master told the people at his work that I call him Master.  

This is what he said to them, while they were eating the cookies he brought in, that he had ordered me to make, 

 "I told her 'Make cookies for the people at work' and she said 'Yes, Master'. "


Luckily they think he's just kidding around.  

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Clothing and Submission

I've been thinking about this lately.  Is there a relationship between what you wear and how you feel?

I think there is.  But is there also something about dressing up for a special occasion that you don't get when you take to wearing a similar "uniform" of sorts every day, even if it started out being a special occasion outfit.   

I have a special love of long and flowing skirts, which are not practical for farm work or much of anything, really.  I feel more submissive without pants.  

A few years ago, when I was new to being a slave, I had a routine of wearing a skirt most days, or else changing into one right before Master got home.  I think he liked this.  He never said too much about it.  Lately though I have switched back to jeans, or even (gasp!) sweatpants, on days that I don't go anywhere.  He hasn't said anything about this either.  But I don't feel as graceful and "fancy", for lack of a better word, in pants. I will still put on a skirt if we go out somewhere together, most of the time. 

Anyway, I'm just rambling on my changing clothing habits and wondering if I should make more of an effort every day.   I was reading some things on Fet today about Indian Sarees and geisha clothing and imagining being so graceful and well dressed all the time.  Not that I have either of those garment types!

Sometimes if I'm fully dressed when he gets home he'll order me to go take it all off and just wear my robe, for easier access. 

Sunday, December 14, 2014

Shit! (not literally)

Master just looked right into my mind, read all my thoughts and frankly, it scares me a little. 

He wanted to come in my mouth and while I knew I would be very happy to serve him and be used for any purpose he desired,  and besides I wasn't getting out of it ...  I still had this little tickle of resistance in my mind that perhaps I'd be happier just sitting around with my coffee doing nothing.   

Not that that was an option. 

Don't tell me you've never felt that way, to the other long time slaves, my friends! 

I wouldn't believe it anyway.

I didn't SAY that of course, and was careful in every single action and look to be as pleasing as possible, and to do everything he told me to do.   I took the laptop up to the bedroom, and was just getting my collar on (the leather one, generally required unless he takes me by surprise) when he came in. 

He told me to get in position, and caned me, and told me he could see my resistant thoughts, though I had done nothing wrong.    I admitted my thoughts, of course, but said mainly I just wanted to please him, which is also true.  It was kind of one of those want/don't want situations.  And then the misery stick came out.   All those little resistant places were smacked the heck out of me.  I was all softened up, compliant and extra-super eager to please. The backs of my calves are especially sensitive. 

This peering into my head though, it is just a little bit scary, no? 

Saturday, December 13, 2014

Dirty, Dirty girl.

It started at dinner time.  He nodded at the floor next to his chair and told me "You will kneel here."   He pulled my head onto his lap, just to rest my cheek on his thigh, nothing else.  Yet.  It is a comfortable place to be, and I found myself relaxing into him.

   I had to get up sometimes to fetch more food, make dessert and so on, but I enjoyed my kneeling time.   

After his dinner and tea I went upstairs with the clean laundry, and he came after me.  I didn't hear him being quiet like a ninja and he startled me in the dark, suddenly being there behind me, saying "Don't jump".   I shrieked.  Just a little.  

He locked the door and told me to strip.  He pushed me to the floor on my back and got his head between my thighs.  I tried to squirm away and he told me to hold still.  I wasn't really keen on that, but he was really into the pussy eating last night.  He had to speak sternly to me to make me be still. 

Then Master stood over me and told me he'd like to piss on me.  He pantomimed doing it, but happily for the bedroom carpet he didn't actually.  Yet.  Instead he took me into the bathroom and bent me over the sink to fuck me.  I was so wet at that point I was dripping. He was driving into me so hard it was nearly painful, but so good. 

He stopped and motioned me into the shower stall.  I knelt and got showered by him.  I felt very much like a dirty girl, because I loved it, the feelings of humiliation and ownership and being marked.  He told me to come, and I did, twice.  Then I sucked him as he had said I would.   Good to the last drop.  He left to go back downstairs and I took my time in getting cleaned up in the shower.  

When I was clean and wrapped in my fluffy robe, we watched a movie for a while, then he watched some porn while I sucked him again.  

"Suck it, you cocksucking little whore", his words made me squiggle and squirm and clench.

"Mmmmffffmmmmffftrrrr".  I was muffled.

He took me back upstairs and ordered me to sit on his face.  Master likes this more than I do, I think.  It is a mentally uncomfortable place for me.  But if he wants it, I do it, that is how things work here.  So I sat on him, felt his tongue up in my slit, and after a while it felt so good I forgot about being uncomfortable and just enjoyed it.    He pushed my head down so I was sucking him at the same time.   

He stood and had me kneel in front of him.   Taking my robe sash, he turned it into a slip knot and put it around my neck, used the sash as a leash/guide to pull me in and have me suck his dick, still kneeling in front of him.  Then he had the misery stick.   Owchie, it is aptly named!  Just a little wrist flick from him and it is stinging my ass.

Master ordered me to stand while he tied a rope harness on me, then told me to get in position.  He snapped me with his belt, then the misery stick, really hard.  He put me over his knee and then it really came down on me. I whimpered.  I stamped.  I came.

He pushed me onto all fours then and took me.  I was tightened up or something and when he thrust in a shriek I didn't mean to give burst out of me.  The next thrust got a smaller shriek, and then it stopped hurting.  Soon he came and we curled up on the floor.  

And then because I looked a little wistful that we were done already (seriously? I though "already"?  It must have been hours, but it didn't SEEM like hours) he took the misery stick and beat me again.  With Christmas carols this time.

 Then he started shoving his fist into me.

I'm quite sore in the bits region this morning and he said it's because he got nearly his whole hand in there.  It felt soooo good too.  I had even more orgasms. 

When he was done and told me to get up off the floor I was stumbling around looking at the floor in a dazed way, and he asked me what I was looking for.  

"My feet"  I answered, and giggled.  Yep, subspace will do that.