Saturday, August 31, 2013

A Pee Post

This morning Master gave me a rope harness, top and bottom, then whipped, caned and paddled me thoroughly before and after fucking me.   He also asked (forced, really) me to describe exactly what I wanted done to me.    He picked out the parts of my description that most interested him and did those things. 

I told him I wasn't that happy with telling him what I wanted done and then him doing it.  It makes me uncomfortable, it kinda ruins the mood, actually.   He said "Did you ever think that might be why I do it?" 


"Yes, I did think that, Master.  I still don't like it."

He smiled.

But by the time my ass was striped and bruised I had forgotten all about the "mood" and was lost in the pleasures and pains, which was his intention.  


He left the rope harness on while I made waffles.  It was covered by my robe, a comfortable and confining harness, a bit sexy too, the way it rubbed in just the right places.  

 It was almost 1:30.  I hadn't used the bathroom since we first woke up, before the rope went on, and I was getting desperate.    I had drunk three cups of coffee.  Perhaps desperate was an understatement, but I didn't think I could go pee without getting the rope messy, since it was pretty tight.

    I finally asked him if he would take the ropes off so I could use the bathroom, and he said he could.   He also asked me if I thought I would piss all over if he made me orgasm right then.  Getting nervous at THAT thought,  I said I probably would, especially if he put his fingers just "there" and "there".  

In our room, he took the ropes off and allowed me to dash for the bathroom.   He followed me inside, which is not unusual.   Just as I sat down and let loose he told me "Come!" and somehow I did, peeing, sitting on the toilet, orgasming all at the same time, for a really long time, humiliated beyond words. 

 Then he told me "You will be blogging this".   Oh God.  Yes, Master, I will. 

Thoughts on Safewords or Antidisest...Anti... WTF

Unlike many slaves, I have (had) a safeword.  Of sorts (explanation coming soon).  I have not abused it to get out of things I don't feel like doing.  I take pleasing my Master seriously, and also, I enjoy even the painful stuff.  Masochist, ayup.

Recently I was trying to explain why I never safeword, even when I'm crying and blubbering and begging.   It is not just being stubborn.  Yes, I am stubborn, very stubborn, but I really don't think that is the whole reason.  The way I tried to explain was I think of the pain as mountains to climb.  Sure, it may be hard work and uncomfortable climbing up that slope, but when you reach the peak the views are fabulous.   I'm always seeking the next peak.   Also, my Master really is not that hard on me and does not try to give me more hurts than I can take.   

When I play with other people, we discuss the safeword system beforehand.  I use the typical red/yellow/green stoplight system.   The furthest I have gotten is to say yellow a couple times, which means "Ease up a bit, that is hurting in a worrisome way".   Once (I think?) with my Master (because of extremely painful pressure on my stomach) and once with Mystique (being whipped on a sore spot). 

Way back almost two years ago, I had a different safeword, and I did try to use it once because I fell and I was scared that I was strangling by my neck.   I was so deep in subspace I couldn't remember the word and ended up coming out with "Help, help, help", and he immediately released me from bondage.  

 Anyway, back to the present:   Last night Master and I went for a long walk, enjoying being alone and the slightly cooler weather.  This week has been hot, even in the middle of the night, and humid.

I chirpily told him that Scott had said if we played together I would get a safeword.  He wanted to see if he could make me use it.          I don't know why I said that, it was probably unwise in several directions, looking back at it.   But that is me, chronic foot in mouth disease. 

Master said "I'm changing your safeword to antidisestablishmentarianism then.   Try to say it now."

"Antidis-" I got that far when he gave me the signal to orgasm.  Right in the middle of the road.   No one was around, this being way out in the country on a back road.

"Antidisest-" and again he made me come.

"Anti-" and again, I was bending over and unable to speak for a few seconds.

This time I closed my eyes so I couldn't see him give the hand signal.

"Antidis-" I tried.   "Come" he said, and I did.

When I recovered, he casually commented to me, "Oh look, a big hill full of those nasty, red biting ants."

I peered over at the ants.  The hill was almost two feet wide, and very busy.

"If you try to say your safeword again I'm going to make you sit on that anthill."   

I finally (finally!) managed to STFU.   

Friday, August 30, 2013

Yummy Delicious Frustrating...

I know others must get these orders also- the ones that are frustrating but delicious at the same time.  

Yesterday Master had me give him a blowjob, then afterward I asked to use the magic wand to get myself off.  He said yes, so as he was getting dressed to leave and do errands, I had already startedMmmmm, nice Hitachi!   

My eyes were shut, but I heard the creak of the floorboards as he came around the bed and I looked up just in time to see him stop in front of me.  He grabbed my hair, pulled my head back hard, slapped my face a few times and commanded me to "Come!"      Wow.   Isn't that just the best way to masturbate ever?  For me, anyway, it is.    I came several times more as he continued to slap me and tell me to come for him. 

Ok, I'm sidetracked totally.  That was not the order I was talking about.  Last night we hopped into bed, and I give him my usual questioning, flirty, horny look that asks "So... what do you want from me, anything, Master?"  At least that is what I think it says.   He may think it looks more like "Sex, now?"

He said "Go to sleep now, slave.  And no masturbating tomorrow.  I want you to be good and horny for Saturday."

Now I'm going to have to wonder all day what is up for Saturday!  I know better than to ask, since I would get a "You'll see" answer.

Thursday, August 29, 2013

Last Night...Creepy Visitor

He fell asleep after some extraordinary and rough sex (I was wondering if my tooth cut his knuckle or just my lip).

His hand was wrapped tightly around my right wrist as he slept.   I was lying there, near sleep, when I felt a creepy crawly on my left shoulder.   Spider, I thought.  Slightly panicking,  I tried to pull my wrist away to smack the crawly thing but his grip was still tight even in his sleep.   I rolled my shoulder around on the bed, hoping that would at least scare it off.   No more creepy feeling thing, but I lay awake for a while longer, wondering... it is kind of amazing that I got to sleep at all, actually.

Kink of the Week: Braingasms?

I am using this idea from Jade at:

Sapiosexuality is being turned on by intelligent people.  This is a kink I never realized was a kink, but I definitely have it.   I love being around smart people, and intelligent deviousness is definitely a turn on.   It is a big part of what originally attracted me to my Master.   

Sometimes this has backfired on me, such as when he demands that I do word problems in the middle of a scene, when my brain is least likely to work anyway.   It is sort of a mental torment/mind fuck since I hate doing math word problems under ordinary circumstances.    When I am beaten silly, I really can't do them at all :).  

That'd be the Butt Bob

After serving dinner, washing up, and giving Master a foot massage,  I asked to be allowed to go upstairs and read my book.    He said yes, and I'd been up there for no more than 10 minutes when he came up and asked me how the book was.   

 "It is pretty good, the girl in there just got butt-raped". 


He took the book and started reading it himself, at the same time sticking his cock in my mouth as I lay on my side.  

He read some parts out loud to me, then he went out of the room to attend to something else, saying I should start lubing up and stick something in my ass while he was gone.

I did this (warning and preparation is always nice), so when he returned and pushed me flat on my stomach I was ready.    There is always the first shock of entry, with me biting down on the pillow to keep from screaming, but after that pain was over I bucked up against him, enjoying the sensation of his cock deep in my ass, thrusting in and out hard as he got ready to come.   It is always very intense for me, the giving up of my ass, overwhelming to the point where I can't think any actual thoughts, only feel sensations and orgasms as he demands them.

Afterward, he rolled over and told me to snuggle up against him.  I was still over-awed by him, intimidated even, but managed to do as he said.

Then he says "I can't rape you."

I'm thinking "Ummm, ok..."

He goes on "Because I own every part of you and can do whatever I want with what is mine".

After a minute's reflection on this he adds:

"It is ok if you ever decide you really don't like anal sex".

And I'm thinking "Oh really?" but I don't say anything.

 "I'll keep doing it to you anyway, but it is ok if you don't like it".

Oh, the benefits of being owned!


Tuesday, August 27, 2013


A lot of people don't get humiliation, they don't want it, they don't like it, it takes them places they don't want to be.  It goes on the hard limits list for a lot of submissives. I am a slave, and I don't get a list.   So....

I think my security in the knowledge that I am loved and valued makes it possible to come back out of those dark mental places, even on mornings like this one, when I woke up in a fog still left over from the night before.   We had pretty much passed out as soon as we hit the bed.   I woke up still in the midst of shame and humiliation that I had eaten the night before, that I had actually fed on, taken deep inside.  I had welcomed the abasement into myself and used it as fuel to make me hot/wet.   Of course, he was dishing it out to me pretty heavy, and there were only two choices: break down or take it and use it.   Last night I chose the latter.  

It wasn't all about humiliation.  There was also pain.  I had asked to be beaten, because I wanted it badly .  I was pretty much vibrating all over, my brain buzzing with need.   He sent me to get a paddle, and I brought back Uma, the smiley one.   Yes, she has a name.

 Uma paddle

He also called me a pretty good cocksucking whore- I took that as a compliment. Then he petted me after he slapped me, as I drooled and choked and gagged on it, feeling excessively unattractive, especially when he kindly wiped my chin.    

Later he explored some pressure points on my body, and when he found them he said "I'm a sadistic bastard, aren't I?"  I said "Yes, Master, thank you, Master".   I was pretty much a puddle of goo by then anyway.  

Sunday, August 25, 2013

Slave Dreams vs. Master Dreams

Last night I dreamed that Master and I were going to go swimming at the gym, but I forgot my suit.  Since they won't let you swim there without a suit, my punishment was that Master made me crawl on my hands and knees all around a department store looking for a new swimming suit.  It wasn't the right season anymore, so I wasn't finding one and was becoming increasingly desperate.

I told Master about this dream.   

He says "Oh, I dreamed I was singing Honky Tonk Woman with the Rolling Stones.  And then I got free drinks."

Hmmmm.   Somehow this all seems rather appropriate.   

Timing- I haz it!

I know, I know, gloating comes before the fall, but anyway...

This morning I got up early, had some coffee, played on the computer for a while, then when I heard Master stirring upstairs I waited a few more minutes before going up to see if he wanted me.

He said I was just in time because he was wanting to fuck me.  
He had me use the magic wand at the same time, and that thing makes it just about impossible to wait.  So the whole time I was telling myself "Wait, wait, wait" and thinking about kitchen appliances, or anything completely unsexy to try to distract myself away from cumming before he gave the command.  At the same time he was describing this scene of me and another woman, in a bathtub, masturbating each other while he pisses on us.  Oh fucking hell that is hot.  But I can't cum yet.  Not allowed.  Think of kitchen appliances.  Bonfires.  Burning sticks.  Oh, fire, oh shoot, I can't wait any longer.  He pulled on my nipples. Slapped them.  No, I really can't wait. 

 "Wait. wait. wait," I was chanting out loud to myself.

  He slapped my face.  

"You better be waiting until I tell you to come".

"Yes, Master."

"Wait. wait. wait". 

 And more slaps to my face and breasts and hips.   I could hardly stand it.   Orgasm waves were creeping up on me from my toes, but I beat them back down again.

Finally he gave me the command, and again, and again.  I squirted, and kept on cumming, I don't know how many times.   A whole bunch.   A truckload of orgasms, making all that waiting and building up to it explode into pleasure.   Then he turned me over and fucked me from behind to his orgasm.  We nestled up and went back to sleep.

Good timing in more ways than one today. 

Saturday, August 24, 2013

Features and Problems of a Small Town

We live in a smallish, rather conservative town.  
In one way, this can be a real asset to being accepted as we are, which one might not expect.

Myst and H. were over today visiting, and about mid afternoon Master told me I should go buy some steaks so he could cook on the grill.  Myst went with me, and right next to the store was an estate sale, so of course we stopped to look.  I had no money at all, not even a dollar, so no real chance of buying anything, without asking Master first, but it doesn't hurt to look.   

There was an extremely pretty antique dressing table (I love old furniture) that seemed reasonable (but was definitely more than I'd be allowed to spend without asking), and the seller approached me and said if I liked it I should make an offer.   

I was about to make some kind of hedging statement,  my eyes betraying me by shining with that "Oooooh, I want!" look,  when Myst stepped in and said "She'll have to ask her husband first".    The seller, a woman, just nodded as if that were the most ordinary thing in the world.   I can't imagine that being met with that nod in some of the larger, more progressive cities in which we have lived.

One of the downsides, of course, also hit me today.  The front page of our local paper ran a story about a woman who was assaulted and murdered.    She looked very familiar, and as I read the story I knew I had met her.  Myst knew her fairly well from a former job.  
When something bad happens here, it is made more alarming when it is almost always someone you know at least slightly.   They do have a suspect in custody at least, hopefully the right one.

Friday, August 23, 2013

Throat standing

After the sucking, the fucking, the being used hard on the floor, my hands pinned over my head in one of his strong hands, then switching to a grip on my hair behind my head and commanding me to come....

After all that he stood up, placed his foot on my throat and pressed down.   The constriction, the subjugation, him standing over me, my life given over to his control entirely...

I was slick, soaked, down my thighs and ass with mingled come and blood.   He told me to come again, and I thrashed and bucked under his foot. I heard myself making choking, gagging noises, and I came harder and longer even than when he was actually touching my cunt, even more than when he was inside of me.   

As I finished shuddering he told me to stand.  He touched my cheek.  My eyes went up to his, dreamy and hazed, as we shared one more brief powerful moment before he went to get ready for work.  

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Is there a mouse in my oven?

Do you ever get that sneaking suspicion that there may be a mouse in your oven?

And you sit and stare at it for a long time, not really wanting to go look and actually see a mouse, but not really able to look away either?

Then you see the flash of movement again and it lands on the floor.  Then you stare even harder because it is too small to be a mouse but it is certainly something lively.   You work up the courage to cross the kitchen and discover the invader's identity. 

And it's a grasshopper.  

No, you don't get that?

I guess it's just me then.  


I'm sure most people know that coming back home after a fun event often includes some sad feelings, but for as many events as I have been to, of the vanilla and kinky kind, nothing has affected me the way Camp does.   I know a lot of people feel this way, that Camp is their real true home, and their own house is just where they live the rest of the year.   It is all because of the people, and the atmosphere.  There is freedom there, to do and be who you are 24 hours a day without censure or judgement.  You can wear clothes, or not.  You can fuck on a picnic table, or not.  You can beat people up or get beat up, as you desire.

I love watching people there, so many of them fulfilling their most sick and twisted fantasies, and everyone else just nodding with a  "You go girl/dude/person" look.  Some of these fantasies are scary and violent, and one is free to walk away and not watch- "change the channel" as they say, but one does not interrupt.  

Everything is not joy and fun though.   With camp inevitably comes sadness.  All sorts of emotions are happening out in the open.  Many people feel free to cry as the spirit moves them; remembering past history and releasing pent up sadness is a common occurrence.  
As I mentioned yesterday, I cried a couple times at camp.   

Then on returning home comes the inevitable "event drop", the sadness of not being with the tribe anymore.  The empty feeling when I see my Master go off to work each day, badly missing being by his side almost constantly.    

Not to say we are not still having fun at home.  Last night was particularly violent and satisfying for both of us.   But now I'm sitting here staring at my computer, thinking about all the friends on the other side of it, some of them looking at their screens too, maybe trying to connect with some of them, but it is just not the same as being able to see and touch, being enveloped and surrounded by them.  

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Rough Day

There is a reason I left writing about Friday until last.   It was kind of a rough day for us.  I woke up sore and and emotional.  I'm no longer a 20 year old who can do all sorts of strange activities and then bounce out of a tent feeling great.  Plus, someone had been beating on me the night before!

  Master insisted that we go take showers before coffee or breakfast. Indoor showers required a 1/4 mile or so walk each way.   Before coffee.   And he wanted to walk along at his normal very brisk clip expecting me to keep up while I hobbled along feeling like my legs were mired in syrup and every part of me ached.  Did I mention that I had no coffee?   About the 4th time he stopped to chide me for not walking faster I broke into tears.  He put his arm around me and told me I would get my coffee soon enough.  Sniff. 

  We eventually made it to the lodge for showers, and back to our campsite again, and had coffee and breakfast before 10 am so we could make it to WiDomher's caning class.  

 I felt much better after the nourishment, but I think I was still dealing with subdrop.   Someone in caning class shared a very painful traumatic memory and I started crying again.  Master and Mystique both held me and let me cry, then Master took me outside the tent so he could talk to me about what was wrong.   I said I found her story really sad and painful.   I didn't even think about being droppy at the time, but as I look back it seems perfectly clear that I was.   I don't always cry after hearing a sad story, honest!

This was a hands on class, so after the demos, everyone who wanted to give or receive some caning did so.   I was really craving it, too.  Like a junkie who was trashed the night before and wakes up needing another fix.   Master, who didn't get to beat anyone the night before, was also eager to lay down some stripes.   It was good too, almost a mini scene rather than just a demo.  

After lunch there was a whips intensive, and because I'm slut, I volunteered, with Master's prompting, to be a demo bottom for that.

   I was supposed to stand there as the instructor laid down ever increasingly hard strokes with the single tail, starting at barely brushing me and going up in intensity.   When it became harder than I wanted to feel I was supposed to simply step forward out of whip range.    I didn't get to that point.  Instead I started giggling when the sensation got intense.  I was on the verge of orgasm at that point, but he stopped because that was plenty for just a demo.  

 By this time, I felt quite awesome again, and got to try cracking the whip myself.   It was so fun I was jumping up and down with excitement.  I love that sound.

  I can't remember if it was before or after the whips class, but sometime during camp Master offered me up for a real scene with the whip instructor.  This was kind of funny to me, because I only found out about it later.  We were eating breakfast at the time, and I was so focused on my delicious sweet roll (Yay, Crazy Lady Cafe for best camping food ever!!) I didn't even notice that Master was negotiating a scene for me.  I really thought they were just chatting about some distant future something or other.   It turned out he didn't have a good time to do it that weekend, but another time that might work out.

After class, feeling hot and sweaty, we hopped over to the outdoor showers.  As we were undressing, Master pushed me down on a picnic table and fucked me.   Public sex FTW!    God, I love camp. 

Also, the showers felt really good after that.  

We dressed in our tent for the Leather Bar event.  We were both kind of grumpy and crabby at that point, for several reasons I won't go into.   The picnic shelter was set up as a bar, and we pretended to be leather people cruising around for a short time before heading over to the dungeon.   

I was very sore still, in certain areas, and I begged Master to be gentle with me.  He said he would.   After that followed the hottest, fear inducing-est, but gentlest scene I can remember.   It was quite wonderful, especially his knife cutting off my panties, and then what came after that... 

And after the "after that"...

We sat by the fire late into the night, enjoying camp camaraderie.  

A rough day turned out to have a gentle ending.

Monday, August 19, 2013

And even later on Saturday night...the fire and beatings commence

Even though we were camping together and hanging out, cooking food and taking classes together a lot, I hadn't gotten to play with Mystique yet at camp, except for one little "Flaming Cooter of Fun" at the fireplay class, so Saturday night we went to the dungeon pretty quickly after the big fire so she could set some little fires on me. 

Master said we should also try some "Nipple Rings of Fire" with the flash cotton.

He held me down while Mystique lit up my cooter with a blob of flash cotton.  I screamed.  Both times.

Then she started putting it on my breast in rings and I squirmed and squiggled so hard she asked me what was wrong.  Master was still holding me down by the wrists.  I said I was worried, and she put a fire hood over my face so it was more protected, and I didn't have to see what was going on.  I didn't want to see.  I was scared, folks. 

The Nipple Rings of Fire did not burn as much as the cooter fire, but it was still more intense than having the same on my back or other less sensitive parts.

Then there was some fire mousse on my chest, which was hot, in both senses.   Master wanted to try that, so they flipped me over and he did mousse patterns on my back, then lit them on fire.  This was relaxing compared to having it on the front.

Then I was done, and we moved off to watch someone else get a similar treatment from her, only with more punching!   She was braver than me, and did not have to be held down for the flaming cooter treatment, unlike me.  

After a bit, Master really wanted to beat me (you sure didn't see me saying "No please no" either), so we headed off to the spiderweb corner.  In case you are wondering, it is a chain metal spiderweb on a frame.    He did not tie me at first, but just had me hold on to the back of it.  

The beating commenced.

And more beating.

Then he switched from the "nice" leather slapper to that mean old rubber pancake flipper paddle.  Even the light swats seemed excruciating.   He tied my hands up to my chest almost in a praying position and then tied them to the frame. 

As the paddle struck I leaped, I danced, I swore at him.  When I managed to squirm enough to turn my sore butt away from him he swatted me on the fronts of my thighs with it.  That hurt like a mother fucker.  Excuse my language.  

Then he began deprogramming me.   Through whispers in my ear and well timed corrections, he got rid of both the word "six" and the word "Iowa" as command triggers that would make me orgasm.   Now I still have two other commands that work, one being a hand signal.   Master is still thinking of more modifications to make to this training.   

He talked about continuing on with the paddle (he was now using Uma, the wooden smiley paddle) until I used a safeword, but finally decided it was too cold to go on that long.  When I complained that I was cold, he wrapped me up and untied me.  By that time I was REALLY cold, and was very glad Mystique was there to make a "ksst sandwich" around me with Master on the other side to warm me up.   I was once again deeply spaced, and having a wonderful time in my little floaty world.   We warmed up by the bonfire for a long time before heading back to our tent for sleep. 

Again, really, really glad we had that electric blanket.  We slept warm every single night.   Thank you Mystique! 



Becoming A Puddle

First I watch the laying out of the implements, the preparing of the ropes.   I don't watch with intensity, instead, only out of the corner of my eye.   I'm mainly looking at my Master, and joking lightly with some friends standing nearby.   I feel the same nervous excitement, the anxiety, that I always feel before a big dog trial, right before I step out on the field in front of everyone (I know this is a weird juxtaposition).  

I have the need to pee, but since I just went I know it is only fear talking and I ignore it.  I have the sense that while things are under control now,  they have the potential to go very, very right, or very, very wrong.   I know that soon there will be agony, and I am hoping ecstasy as well.  

I undress and Master makes sure I'm covered against the chill of the night while WiDomher gets things ready.  

This man and I step together under the swing frame and he ties my wrist cuffs to overhead ropes.   I attempt not to feel intimidated, but in truth I have difficulty raising my eyes to his.

After a nice warm up there is a whole lot of beating with various implements.  I know this is the part that some of you really want to hear details about, but this is also the part where my brain goes all fuzzy and I'd have to start making up stuff to make any sort of sensible story.  I'm not interested in making up stuff, so this is what I remember.  Probably not in any sort of order.  

There are a few times when he grabs both nipples and tries to lift me off the ground with them.  I have delicate, tender nipples and they did not like that one bit.  The rest of me, the cunty bits, said "Eh, let them suffer, we're getting all wet.  Screw you, nipples".

Then he got out the knife.  I knew there was going to be a knife, but did not think it would feel quite so much like it was actually cutting into me.  It slid down my back, down the center of my chest.  My inner thighs.  There was no blood, but dang, that felt like cutting.  He threatened my squishy bits.   I think my nipples were laughing this time:

 "Hahahah, you cunty bits will get yours now."    

A song fragment flashed into my brain:

"This time when he swung the bat
And I found myself laying flat I wondered
What a way to spend a dime
What a way to use the time, ain't it baby"

from  Truth No. 2   : Dixie Chicks

Of course, I wasn't laying flat, since I was tied upright.  

The single tail whip flicks across me, first lightly and pleasantly then getting harder, cutting welts into the backs of my thighs.  Sometimes it cracks loudly beside my ears.  Oh fuck, it makes me want to cum.  So fucking hot.  It makes me want to get fucked.  
 I can still see them now when I look in a mirror.  Which I keep doing.  Ahhh. Nice.

Just when I thought perhaps I couldn't stand any more he switched to wrapping it around my body.  This didn't hurt as much.  Like a big old whip hug, right?  Ok, maybe it hurt more than that.

Then the flogger on the front, my thighs and pussy.   I wanted to come, badly, but could not without the command.   He made me beg my Master to let me come.  Louder, and louder, I begged until I felt I was practically shouting.   I wondered if the the whole place could hear me over the music?   

Master said "No, not yet".    So I didn't.  I may have whimpered.

There was some kind of flogging or beating implement that REALLY FUCKING HURT when used on my front.  Did I mention my tender nipples?  Yeah.  So they got yanked again.  For being so delicate and tender.

Cane, paddle, I don't know what all...and then this big old flogger, which came smacking down the middle of my back over and over, and it made my brain go to mush.   I was half-sobbing, gulping,  starting to hyperventilate.  

Soon after that he took me down, held me all the way to the ground and covered me with a blanket.   I was deep into subspace, and I began to smile and then to laugh.  Master was beside me,  telling me to cum, again and again, and I had massive orgasms.  WiDomher was on the other side, lying with me.  Then I giggled some more.  And came some more, on command.   I floated there, on the floor, being a puddle, for a good long time before I was able to come back to the world around me again. 



The Fire

After the D/s formal Saturday night was the burning of the wishing tree and trope.   Everyone at camp had gathered, as it is an event not to be missed.  The trope looked like a little wooden house, about 6 feet tall beside the tree, a dry pine, both strewn with tied on messages, wishes, hopes, dreams, fears of any of the Tribe who wanted to contribute.  I had added three wishes myself, which I hoped would be carried up to the heavens in the sparks of the fire.  

The drumming called people in.  There is no designated drummer.  If you like to drum you just show up and join in.   The rhythm is primitive and powerful.   It is in our bones as humans and takes us back to pre-civilized times when this is how we gathered.  This is how we did community.  Once or twice a year we can still have Tribe this way.   It is a heart rhythm.   I felt that very powerfully and I asked my Master if I could dance around the tree and trope.

  In the space between the unlit fire and the gathered crowd others were dancing to the drums.  I joined in, feeling self conscious but driven to move my feet, my hips, my body. 

When it was time I sat down with my Master and Mystique, cuddled in a heap on our blanket, to watch the lighting of the fire.

As the sparks flew up to the sky, adding new briefly lit dancing stars to the heavens,  the emotions all around us were adding fuel and energy.  
There was crying, clapping, dancing, snuggling, anger, tears, joy, whoops, moans and expressed sexuality of every sort.   

I asked to dance again.   Master let me go.  He had slipped my dress down to my waist, so I took off my coat and danced half naked in the fire light, my chain looped over my shoulders and hanging against my chest.     Charged with joy and exultant sexuality I came back to my Master. 

I asked and he said yes.

He flipped me over onto my hands and knees, lifted my dress above my waist and fucked me right there to the rhythm of the drums.  

Thursday Date

With my Master's encouragement and permission, I had a date with another man arranged for Thursday night at Tryst Camp.

The two men had started negotiating it at MadTownKinkFest, and WiDomher and I had messaged back and forth many times in between the two events.   I believe it all started way back months ago when I commented on the hotness of a woman's picture of her heavy duty whip marks, and the perpetrator of those marks commented back something like "I could do that to you if you wanted".     Instead of having the "Oh hell no" reaction of any sensible person, this made me say "Hmmmmm....".

Mystique has known him for a long time, and she gave her thumbs up as far as his good character and sadistic skills :).    This was important because even though Master is willing to share me he is also very protective of me, and one does not get to know someone very well just by seeing them at a few events or online. 

His reasons for sharing me are complicated.  Part of it is that every time he has handed me off to be played with by someone else he has learned something new. New techniques, and the way I, in particular, react rather than just seeing the reaction of another submissive to those techniques.

  Part of it is also, I believe, an objectification fetish we share.  I am property to be disposed and treated as he wishes.   The act of handing me off is very powerful emotionally and symbolically for both of us.    As is the "reclaiming" afterward when he takes me back for aftercare. 

Sometime on Thursday morning we ran into WiDomher at some of our other friends' campsite.   They started to talk, then Master dumped out his nearly full water bottle as I watched with a massively confused look on my face.   He then handed me the bottle and told me he was out of water and wanted a refill.   Another second of utter confusion, then I figured that he wanted me out of the way for negotiations.   I took my time getting the water, but still got back too quickly, so I was sent off for another walk.   This time when I returned WiDomher grabbed me hard by the hair at the back of my head and pushed me roughly to the ground.  

Running through my head were two simultaneous thoughts: 
 "Oh fuck! What did I do? What is he going to do to me?" and "Man, that is hot!"

He held me down on the ground for a moment, then pulled me up by the same handle and pushed me over the picnic table.  A couple of spanks, then he turned me around, seated me on the bench, released my hair and made me spread my knees.    I did everything without question or resistance.   He raised one hand high and smacked my inner thigh hard enough to leave marks that are still there four days later.  Four days.  Now that is a hearty hand turkey.   I am not someone who can get a bruise from a few little pokes.  My Master smacked me on the other thigh to leave a mark there as well.   Master stuck his finger in my twat to see if it were wet.    

Then WiDomher asked if I still wanted to play with him.   I said "Sure"  with a cockiness that didn't feel.  


This is rapidly becoming TLDR (too long, don't read), so I'm breaking it off into chunks.  The next part will be coming soon. 

Saturday Night at Camp

It would way more organized to start writing about camp from the day we arrived and proceed through the days chronologically.   


 Sometimes things just clamor out to be written first.

Saturday night.  The last night was the most intense, like last year.  
I think it is the time when everyone tries to get everything done that they possibly can before it is all over.

In the afternoon, Master and I helped set up for the D/s formal, which is a dinner hosted by WiDomHer at every Tryst since the beginning of Trysts.  
This year, the formal also doubled as a wedding reception for a couple who celebrated their wedding at Tryst.
 Setting up was hard work, lugging heavy things around, turning a dungeon tent into an elegant hall for celebration, but it was also a time of great connection and closeness for my Master and me.  We  work well as a team, and he brought his creative spirit out to play in decorating the "cube" (suspension cube) where the bridal couple would sit.  

Just as we were heading out of the tent Master got the urge to rough me up, and he grabbed me by the hair, pulled me over to a massage table and pushed me against it, my head down on the table.   He thrust against me, enough to get me all hot and bothered then said we didn't really have time for this fucking around.   

These things are what I love about camp.  No one cares that you have these little random interludes where ever and when ever.  In fact, many of them are probably watching eagerly, the perverts.  I know I do when someone else is having a public "moment".   

Then, having gotten all sweaty and sticky, we headed off to the outdoor showers to wash up before getting dressed.   

Master looked handsome in a deep red dress shirt, black pants and red/black striped tie.   I wore my new sparkly rhinestone collar, a chain leash, an off the shoulder, short black dress and tall leather boots.   

The formal was a magical time for me last year at camp, and was no less magical this year for our having been part of the set up crew.   I had placed a kneeling pad or two near each of the tables, remembering how much I appreciated that having been done last time.  I knelt at Master's feet, chained, as he fed me my first few bites from his plate, symbolically, before he sent me off to get my own food.   He had a glass of champagne while I had some sparkling grape juice, which was quite tasty. 

We had a lovely time and some great conversation with our table-mates.  He doesn't put me under speech or interaction protocols even in a formal setting.  

More, much more, was in store for me that night, which I will get to writing soon...



Wednesday, August 14, 2013


I was being a little cheeky last night. A really good mood brings that out.  I asked Master what if I didn't want any spankings or beatings at all at Tryst?  What if I changed my mind?   

He said he would turn me over to ____  (a certain sadist we know) and tell him to beat me as hard as he could, no matter how many times I yelled "RED!"    "Red won't help you, you know" he says.

So it is is a good thing that I do (I think) want those spankings etc.   Cause I don't have a choice! 

Tuesday, August 13, 2013


It's almost time to leave for camp!  Of course Master is keeping me in the agony of suspense over whether we are leaving Wednesday afternoon or Thursday morning, but I'm getting all packed up ahead of time.   I can't wait to see all our friends again, run around naked in the sun and of course, more kinky stuff! 

Monday, August 12, 2013


Master and I were in different rooms, both on the computer.  I saw that he was also on Fetlife and I posted a note to his wall "Hi Master! wink flirt wiggle".    Playfully flirty, just hoping he'd write back.

A minute later he came in and told me to follow him upstairs.   He stood facing me and jerked the sash of my robe to bring me in closer.  He untied it and pulled it roughly off my shoulders.   Pinning my arms behind my back, he got behind me and used the sash to wrap around my chest and tie my hands together.    Then he faced my front again and pushed me to the ground.  It is a whole different balancing act getting to a kneeling position with one's hands tied behind than with them free, but I managed semi-gracefully.   I sucked his cock eagerly, my knees spread and cunt starting to feel slick with wanting.

He stepped behind again and pushed me forward until my face rested on the hard wood floor.  He knelt behind me and used the sash as a handle to hold me up as he took me.  It was amazing on many levels- being tied, being helpless, being fucked, and the perfect balance as he held my head up and kept my face from banging on the floor as he banged me. 

He released his hold on the sash and I could hold myself up for a few seconds, but gradually my head slumped to touch the ground, thumping with his rhythm of thrusts.  He reached forward and grabbed the back of my collar, still thrusting hard into me, now using my collar to pull my head back and up, using it for leverage for fucking.   There is nothing like that feeling, the constriction on my neck, to bring me into an even deeper level of erotic submission.  I was flying along that road when he gave me the command to come, and my whole body shook and convulsed.   Soon after, his did as well and we collapsed together curled on the floor.

I don't think I have any dents or splinters in my cheeks or forehead, but if I did, it would be worth it.... :)

Sunday, August 11, 2013

Not In A Happy Place Today

For the record, going along, pretending everything is fine and dandy and you haven't a care in the world, and only good things will happen, only works for so long.  Then you start waking up at odd hours feeling a crushing worry, or letting the fears peek out at odd times, so your Master asks "What's wrong, you look sad, is everything ok? Do you like being a slave still?"  

And then I say I'm ok, I'm not sad, and it's not exactly a lie because I don't feel sad at that moment, but something gives me away to him.  I tell him yes, I can't imagine being anything else.  Yes, I like being your slave.  
I do talk to him about all my fears, but that doesn't make them magically go away.  Mostly I try to hide them from myself because I want so badly to be happy and positive thinking.   

But today I needed a little rant.  So. Sorry, here it is. 

It is not about Master and I and our relationship that way, it is about the rest of life and how we are facing major upheavals, which I can't really talk about yet.   I hate the uncertainty.  It is a helpless feeling, and not the hot 'n' horny helpless feeling of being bound and waiting for something awful to happen.   It is the helpless feeling that the last 10 years of my life were a perfect heaven, and what I'm facing from now on is going to never be as good again.   That is in my down moments.   Then I go back to pretending that hell yeah, I'm strong enough to take whatever comes at me.  Maybe it will be better than I think.  Maybe change is good.  But that treacherous, sneaking worry will come at me in the middle of the night when I can't defend myself.   I can't do a thing about it but wait, and sometimes I feel like it is tearing me up.

Friday, August 9, 2013

Mantras, and some other stuff

Do you use them?   Are they helpful?

  I have used several mantras, little sayings that I could keep running through my head whenever I needed them.  I used them to counteract other thoughts which were leading to unhappiness and frustration, which if left unchecked would inevitably lead to pouting/whining, which of course would then lead to negative consequences for me.

I still use them, but what exactly they are changes, and depends on what I need reminding of at the time.

Some of mine, in chronological order:

"Just obey."

"I am patience." 

"This is about his desires, not yours".

"You think you have way more influence around here than you actually do.  You are a peon."  This one came from my Master.

"Submit, submit". 

Interestingly, that last one came out of a book I was reading that had nothing to do with M/s.   It is The Ask and The Answer by Patrick Ness.   In that world everyone's thoughts are broadcast for everyone around them to hear, even the animals' thoughts (except, in a strange twist with many repercussions, for the women's thoughts, which are still private).   So a horse being ridden in one example is always thinking "Submit, submit".   This found it's way into my head and just stuck there. 


On the "down there" news: I'm not bleeding any more.  It was never more than a couple of little spots, but Master and Myst were very firm on my not having sex again until a suitable rest period has passed.    Since it really wasn't that sore anymore, I was kind of disappointed about that, but (see mantras above- all of them).   

So yesterday the three of us worked on packing for camp.  We set up the big new tent and made sure it all worked, then repacked it in the van.

We went over menu planning and snack making, as well as what events/classes/scenes we hoped to do.   Once we were inside Master told me I should be a lot more naked, so I took off everything except panties, which he allowed to stay on.

Master and I will be heading out for camp on Wednesday, a day earlier than we had planned, because he ended up getting an extra day off work that he had not expected.  

After Mystique went home, Master wanted to watch Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog, and he had me bring him the whip and the crop.   He told me to get on the floor in front of him and proceeded to smack me with one or the other through most of the movie.   It was quite delightful, actually.  

I made dinner and we just had a pretty relaxed evening after that.  I stayed naked except for an apron while I was cooking.

At bedtime he expressed a wish that I wasn't "out of commission" so to speak and I reminded him (not that he needs reminding) that I still had two other holes.  So happily for both of us, he took advantage of both of those.

Thursday, August 8, 2013


Mystique and I have been exercising again this week.  My slacking off time is over, and her foot is mostly better, so back we go!   

We joined MyFitnessPal also, to keep track of that food and exercise.  

Monday we went for a walk down our road, almost 5 miles.   Then Tuesday I went to my yoga class, which is actually part yoga, part Tai Chi.  Ooof, I was out of practice and sore afterward.

Then yesterday we went out to a county park and walked again.  I was getting sore and tired on the way home, on the last big hill, and said something about hurting.   

Encouraging me, she said "It's just like taking a beating, you have to push through it".  I took a minute to stretch and kept on hiking- there is not really another choice by the time one is out in the middle of the woods.   It was a lovely day for a walk, and we had such fun planning for our upcoming activities- Saturday we are going with Master and with H (you remember H? Mystique's sub?)  to a Renn Faire.   Then next week we are off to Twisted Tryst!   



Wednesday, August 7, 2013


I am bleeding again today, and it is most definitely not that time of the month now.   This not having kids in the house thing (they are with the grandparents for a few weeks) has definitely increased our amount of fucking and I think the frequency and violence has just taken a toll on the insides down there.  It happens.  Not that I'm complaining.  I'd have to be a lot more sore than this before I'd start complaining.  :) :)

Last night when it was about time for Master to get home, I refreshed my lipstick, and took off everything except my underwear and an apron.   He was appreciative, although it didn't take five minutes before he asked why I was still wearing panties and made me take them off.   The apron was because I was cooking dinner.

I served him dinner, we relaxed for a while, then he had me fetch the riding crop from upstairs.   I also brought down the leather collar and chain leash, which he had me wear.

He hit me with the crop quite hard, over a long period of time, in various positions.  First on the couch next to him, with my flank exposed.  Then over his lap.  Then lying on my back so he could smack my cunt and thighs.  That was the hardest.   Then crouched in front of him on the floor, with my ass up in the air and my head on the floor. 

 There were times when I thought I couldn't take it any more, but simply running the thought through my head: "Submit, submit" took away some of the pain and allowed me to be still and take more.

I was making a lot noise, many shrieks and moans, until he told me to be completely silent.  I obeyed, at times biting my hand to hold back the noises, but the lack of being able to scream made the crop seem to hurt all the worse.  

I again ran a little mantra to myself,  "Submit, submit" and again the pain seemed farther away, I was able to relax and accept it. 

After what was probably several hours of beating interspersed with cuddling/resting, he was ready to take me to bed.

He had mentioned something about ass sex earlier, so I went up ahead of him and prepared with some lube and my fingers.  First one finger, then two fingers.  Not bad, not bad at all.
I knelt on the floor of the bedroom, waiting for him to come up, leash still dangling from my collar.

He strode in, looking pretty intimidating, and shoved my head right to his cock.  I looked up at him and sucked hard on it.  His hips rocked and he slammed it to the back of my throat.  

He ordered me to bed, and lay back with his magazine to look at some naked girl pics while I continued to suck him.  

Thank goodness he finally tossed the magazine to the side and let me climb on top.  He ordered me to use the magic wand, and I did, even though that part was STILL sore, especially when he insisted I bounce up and down on it/him.   I tried to wiggle off to the side- it was sooo intense, and painful, but he wouldn't let me.  He slapped me a few good ones on the face and made me come.   And come again, and again, I don't know how many times.... then, well, then there was a lot more fucking that I don't remember... there may have been some other positions as well... 

And then again this morning.  Twice.   

I'm feeling blissfully sore and hard used.  


Tuesday, August 6, 2013

The Whip

I hate asking.   But I need it so badly the need finally drives the words out of me.  

"Master, will you hit me?"

The words are so tiny he doesn't hear them.  

"What is it, slave?"

 "Master, will you hit me?"
 "Speak up!"

 "Master, will you hit me? Please?"

He already has his whip on the couch next to him, a 3 foot single tail, and has already whipped my butt several times over the course of the evening, beginning when Mystique was here. 

We have been cuddling on the couch watching TV as his hands roam over my body, teasing and pinching sensitive bits.  I am naked.

He tells me to lie on my back and he runs the whip over me in a light, sensual manner:  flick, flick, flick, flick.   It gets harder, leaving streaks on my thighs, stomach and breasts.  Flick, flick, flick.   I try to close my legs, but he keeps my knees apart, then a sharp snap on my pussy makes me yelp out loud.  He is satisfied now and has me scoot back over to cuddle against him.  

A while later he tells me to stand in front of him and he gives my back and ass a hard work over with the whip.  It hurts, it makes me feel on fire. I have to mentally remind myself to hold back from cumming.  I feel drips running down my leg anyway.   A few more hard snaps and he grabs me and pulls me down into his lap, telling me to cum as I land there.  

It is ecstasy.  


Monday, August 5, 2013

Kinky Picnic

Saturday we hosted our first kinky picnic/munch/party.   We had a good sized group of really good friends, and even a few new people.   There was much fun had by many people, which I can't really tell you all about, but one thing I can mention was that Master, I and a lovely lady had a very long scene together.   It was awesome!  

Afterward I was very sore, mostly right around my clit.  It didn't stop Master from having sex with me later that night when people had gone home, and the next morning.  And Sunday night.  And Monday morning. 

Sunday night also included a session with the ice dildo, which hurt like fuck at first until it had warmed a bit.  Master enjoys the cold sensation of taking me just after it has been inserted.   Also he was quite sadistic with Uma, the wicked paddle.   He made me stop calling her evil, but perhaps wicked is better?  

Saturday, August 3, 2013

The Ride Home

Thursday Master and I made the trek home (9 hours) alone, except for the dogs of course.

The dogs just lie in back and sleep, since they are very used to riding.

We stopped for gas in the first town we came to, and he told me to go in the rest room and put my tack bra inserts on.   I did so, feeling like on the way out the clerk could see through my shirt and see that I had tacks poking into my breasts. 

For at least 45 minutes after that he didn't touch me.  I drove, the tacks pressing into my skin and feeling just a little hurty, not unbearable.   Then he pressed his hand against the outside of my shirt, just lightly, inflaming me with sensation.  I wanted to be touched all over, desperately.  I wanted to hurt.

 After we had been on the road a little more than an hour and stopped for some coffee and bagels, Master told me he would drive because he wanted to make me come and didn't want me running off the road.  We got back on the highway and he reached over and squeezed my breast hard, pinching it with the tacks, making my world go white with pain for a second, then he let go and I was squirming on my seat.   

I told him I wanted to take my shirt off, and he replied "Keep yourself covered, slut, there is too much traffic".  

A few more miles made, a little less traffic.  He had me spread my legs and he hit my thigh to make a perfect handprint there.  He smacked me between the legs until I was soaking through my shorts.   I reached into my suitcase, and after asking permission, I took the shorts and panties off and changed into a skirt.   By then we were in the middle of Illinois on a fairly empty stretch of flat highway.   I put down an old shirt to protect the seat, and hiked the skirt up in the back so I wasn't sitting on any of it.  

I asked Master if I could flash him, and he said yes.  I pulled down the tank top I was wearing, and pulled back the skirt to expose myself.   We started coming up next to a truck, so I began to rearrange my clothes properly. 

Master said sternly "I didn't tell you to rearrange your clothes.  If you are going to be such a slut, you will have to stay that way for a bit longer."  

He passed the truck.  I looked only at Master, not daring to look up and see if my nudity was spotted.  

When we approached any sort of passenger car he'd let me cover up.

We stopped at a rest stop, and as I walked to the restroom in a haze of brain buzzing hormones, no bra, no underwear, red handprints on my thighs covered by my long skirt, I felt men staring, and felt they must know what was going on inside my head, they must know by instinct the wetness between my legs.   The tank top exposed my back, my ownership tattoo, allowing them to see I am owned.  They probably don't make that connection, but in my mind it seemed to be a flashing neon light to the world.  

"Owned.  Slave.  Slut".  

I duck my head down and hurry to the restroom.  

The rest of the trip continued in a similar manner.

We arrived home, tired but desperately horny from all the teasing, and went immediately to the bedroom.  I was on my knees in front of him.  I sucked his cock while he smacked me with a cane.   I don't think there was a warm up, just many hard smacks to make me squirm, but I couldn't get far because his hands held my head down on his cock.   He fucked my mouth, and when it was as deep down my throat as it goes, he held my head until I gagged, then told me to come.  I did, gagging, drooling, frothing around his penis as I orgasmed.

Then he had me ride him, using the magic wand until I had come at least a dozen times, perhaps more.  I never count.   But afterwards my hips were sore from bucking.   It was good to be home.

Friday, August 2, 2013

Getting ready for CAMP

Twisted Tryst is less than two weeks away now, and I'm getting mentally ready, at least by reading all the posts of what people are planning to do and want people to do with them and thinking "YES! I want to do that too!"   Kinky "farm animal" show?  Sure!   Watersports?  Oh yes!   Group masturbation time?  Absolutely.   Bachelor party?  Where do I sign up to be a stripper?   

Not to mention formal D/s dinner, lasagna dinner, morning yoga, plus all the classes, dungeon time, various people who want to play with me, time with Master...  I'm going into fun overload already and I haven't even started packing yet.   Someone needs to rein me in....

Just a little update

I'm still doing the weight watchers program, and am down a total of 6 lbs, 4 of which of course were the first week.   I am fitting into...