Wednesday, July 29, 2015


We're heading out for a short vacation tomorrow, so I might not be around the internets much.

I hope everyone is staying cool!

Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Rock Paper Scissors as the slave

Last night Master challenged me to a game of rock, paper, scissors as I was sweeping.  

First round:  I chose scissors.  He chose scissors. Tie.

Second round:  I chose scissors.  He chose paper.  He covered my scissors with his paper.  "I win", he said gleefully.

My mouth dropped.  In a second, I came back with "Why?"

"Because I can," he smirked at me.

"I think I'll go back to my sweeping." 

No, my eyes weren't rolling.  Much.

Sunday, July 26, 2015

Under the Bus

As soon as we arrived at the party last night I was thrown under the bus. Actually, in the bus.  There was a little fisher price type bus and someone put my name in twice to be drawn out and spin the wheel to do activities with, well, anyone who had put their name in as a Top.

  Master had previously approved my playing the game and I was called up right away.  My spinner landed on "Wash feet" and "Receive light flogging" for and from two different Tops.   It was a good way to break out of the whole vanilla wedding mindset and into kinky fun times mindset.  We went straight from the former to the latter and I was having trouble getting my mind ready.  Putting my leather collar on helped, but kneeling on the ground and washing a man's feet helped even more.  Then the flogging, a warm up.  So delicious.

We watched an electric play scene, then Master and two women, one sub and the other her Dominant/Mommy took me into a side room and S. beat the crap out of me while Master did the same to the other sub.  It was all good and extremely hot, until a few hours in when I looked around the room and suddenly had this weird captive feeling, like "This is the rest of my life right here. I will never get out of this room and this beating will never end."  It was freaky.  And frightening. But then we we cuddling on the bed and the pain was over. The knives were put away.  We scoured the room for lost condoms and ripped clothes.  It was late.  When Master looked at his watch, he realized we'd been in that room for more than three hours.   

Saturday, July 25, 2015

Our Two Chief Weapons

After this question was asked on a Fetlife group, I asked Master what his top five fetishes were.

He said "I just have one.  Control".

I got all squishy.

Then he added "And force.  Control and force, force and control.  Those are my two chief fetishes."

I was a little more squishy, but also he was making it sound like Monty Python.  A giggle was coming on.

He went on:  "And floggers.  I really love my floggers.  My three chief fetishes are control, force and floggers.  And a ruthless efficiency."  

Now I was laughing.  

"Four fetishes.  No.  Amongsty our weaponry are such diverse elements as control, force, floggers, fear, compulsion, ruthless efficiency and an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope."

 The Spanish Inquisition


Friday, July 24, 2015

Party party!

I'm really, really exited.  My friend and her Dom/Daddy are throwing their first play party ever this weekend and we are going to get to go!

 I thought we'd have to miss it, but Master's mom and step father (I guess that is the right word, thought they married well after Master was grown up) left earlier than she'd originally said.
Even though we also have a wedding to attend that day, the wedding is early, the party lasts late and they are near each other.  

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

What I Need (long)

The other night I had the brilliant idea of asking Master if I had any little hairs left from when I had hurriedly shaved.  I swear sometimes things pop out of my mouth bypassing my brain filter entirely. 

I lay on the floor with my legs open for inspection. 

He picked up his lighter.  "You might regret asking that".

I lay still as he told me, "No whimpering, be quiet now". 

I reminded myself that my cunt belongs to him and if he wants to burn it that is his decision.  For some reason that makes me relax just enough that I can make myself hold still.   At least until the first slight heat touches me and then I jump automatically.   He burned off a few hairs, but it wasn't going fast enough so he began yanking them out with his fingers instead.   I guess I did leave a few :(.  We had to get back downstairs.  I was good and quiet.

Later on that night, when our guests had gone, he told me to fetch him the cutting board paddle and be naked when I got back. 
 I started to turn around and bend over in front of him, but he told me, "No, face me.  Arms straight out to the sides."

I stood as he directed and he used the paddle on my breasts, my thighs, my arms, all over pretty much, before he directed me to turn around and bend over.  He gave me some solid whacks, then pulled me over his lap.  His hand felt good after the hardness of the wooden paddle.  Shortly he switched back to it though. 

He had me stand and started lecturing me about my handling of a situation earlier in the evening in which I had lost my temper.  How I should do better next time.  Each of his statements hurt twice as much as the paddle strikes that interspersed them.  I was crying when he stopped and tipped my chin up toward him.  He slapped me, twice, then told me I was forgiven.  One more tear, and I dried it up.  Forgiven. Relief.

He sent me upstairs to wait for him.  When he came in he ordered me to crawl to him and remove his shoes and socks.  I did so, gratefully.   I had been crying again, for the utterly stupid reason that there was a huge pile of clothes to sort sitting on the ironing board, and I just couldn't face the mess.  My mother in law brought a huge suitcase of clothes for me.  Some are the wrong color or size, and I just couldn't stand dealing with them or looking at them at that moment.  The reason isn't always the reason, however.

After I had undressed him, he ordered me to lie on the floor face down.  He beat me with the belt as I lay as still as I could.  I love his belt. He got me once right between the cheeks, which stung for a good long time. He rolled me over and whipped my cunt lightly with the belt, then he got down on the floor with me and brought the flame of the lighter between my legs.  
I was resigned to my fate by now.  I was a bit out of my head, or something.  Anyway, I barely remember what happened.  

When he was done with that he told me go get my turquoise silk slip and put it on.  That slip.  It is pretty and comfortable and real silk, and I can still wear it over twenty years later.  He told me he wanted me to think about the one who gave it to me.  It wasn't him.

 There is some history here, perfect for sadistic exploitation.  Back in college he kind of a thing for this one girl that I disliked. She tried to seduce him at least once.  Also, she was dating our roommate for awhile, and spent a lot of nights over at our house.  We lived in a three bedroom house with 2 or 3 others back then.

She gave me this silk slip as a wedding shower present.  
Later on she told my Master privately that every time I wore it she wanted him to think of her. He told me about that incident, but not until twenty years after the fact, and my thought was 
"Ha, what a bitch! I knew it."

As he fucked me that night, I was wearing that slip for him, and he described going to see her, described in detail fucking her after she seduced him, then coming home to rub his cunt-smelling dick in my face.  Rubbing my face in my status as property with no say, no rights.  None of this ever happened, but as a emotionally masochistic fantasy it is disturbingly hot for me to imagine.   
I feel so lowly, so owned, so powerless.  It is a huge turn on.

Then he turns me over to fuck me from behind.  It feels so good, hits so right on that one spot, I never want to stop, and he is getting close to coming, but asks me if I've had enough fucking.  

I answer, as I have to, "Whatever you want, Master".   He asks me again; then I'm allowed an opinion.  I say I would like more fucking please, Master.  He makes me beg.  And beg some more.
He tells me there will be a price for more. Greedy cunt.  I have a ruined orgasm.  It's a set of contractions and release of tension without the pleasure. He doesn't tell me the price, he just goes on fucking for a long time and I don't find out what it will be until the next morning.

When I have to describe the above fantasy for him.   
Worth it? Oh yeah. 

Monday, July 20, 2015

Familial Humiliation: The Best Kind (Where is that sarcasm font?)

Master's mother and step father both came over this morning.  They had a hotel room last night.  But they were over this morning again (arriving right in the middle of our morning fucking so we had to scramble up.  Master came on my face anyway- heh). 

After showers, I was doing some laundry, and had dropped a sock on my way down to the basement laundry room.  Master picked it up and told me to catch it.  When I did, and everyone was looking at me, I also caught Master's raised eyebrows and significant look.  I shook my head and stomped my foot, but he cleared his throat meaningfully and gave me that insistent glare across the table.

I knew what he wanted.  

I was dreadfully embarrassed (I embarrass easily in front of people) and I tried to scuttle off, but I was pinned again by his gaze until I gave him what he wanted.  

In my quiet, squeaky Dobby voice I said "Master has given Dobby a sock.  Dobby is a free elf now."

I guess this was hilarious to all present.

Later on when we were alone he told me "Of course that doesn't apply to slave cunts like you.  You will never be free."

That is a Hallmark card right there.