Pictures

Yes!   Just in time, lots and lots of pictures from the party are up on Under His Hand, kaya's blog, so here's the link.

Party of Awesome

the day after...

After Master played with me, and before we became a "naked pile of sex on the floor"  I was handed off to have a scene with Sir David (WiDomher), who last beat on me back in August at Twisted Tryst, as described here:

Becoming a Puddle

Master settled back to watch, which he enjoys just about as much as doing it himself.  

The above marks are mainly from Sir David's single tail (that one bruise right in the middle I'm blaming on Uma and Master, though), and there are matching ones on my front- from breasts to mons.   They are starting to get really itchy/scabby now!   Ah, memories!

There was a pretty large bruise (checks self- there IS still a pretty bruise there) just above my clit from the whip.   I remember it distinctly, in among the many other blows because I felt that strike of the whip like lightening up and down my body, causing a massive orgasm.  Then there was another slash right in the same place, and another orgasm.   Also, someone left quite a puddle on the base of the cross, which I had to clean up later.   

I did not have permission for those orgasms, but they struck so quickly there was no avoiding them.   Master doesn't believe in punishment for those happy accidents anyway, only if I were to deliberately try to come without permission would I be in real trouble.   As it was, it was more of a "Tssk, tssk" and a laugh from both.   

Sir David also did some knife play on me, starting at my throat and tracing down my chest making scratches that felt like they were opening me up but were really just leaving red lines, no blood.  I was breathing hard (this IS a mind game!), convinced that I might die at any moment.   Then some more parallel lines down my stomach.  I felt the sharp poking between my legs.  I held VERY still.   For a couple minutes I thought I was going to be minus one nipple.   I remember begging to stop, and being told that was not the safeword.    

When he did stop it was because I had gone deep into space and stopped being responsive at all.  I still felt that he was doing SOMETHING, but I couldn't tell you if it was painful or not.    He eased me down from the cross and Master held me until I was fit to go get the cleaning supplies and wash down the cross.   

Then it was time to go upstairs and EAT ALL THE SNACKS!   

This stuff makes me sooo hungry.   





 


 

My Ass 1, Uma Paddle 0

Saturday night at the new basement dungeon in our friends' house, Master chained me to the cross and threw pretty much everything in the toy bag at me.   He said he was going easy on me, because it was going to be a long night with many play opportunities and he didn't want to wear me out first thing.   But, after a particularly hard swing at my butt, which left a bruise, (I can still see it)  there was sadly a casualty.  We lost dear Uma, the smiley paddle (hahahaha gloat, gloat).   Perhaps she can be rebuilt better, stronger, but I have my doubts on that.   Master says she now needs an eye patch, like Daryl Hannah in Kill Bill.  

Kill Bill 

Somehow, I don't think that will make her less creepy.

I'd like to show the dungeon, but maybe kaya will take some pics (hint, hint) because it was extremely cool, with the Halloween theme, all sorts of furniture to play on, a cage complete with spooky zombie at the back, and a watcher's/lounging corner with comfy couches and pillows.  

Halloween Party

"Close your eyes and keep them closed"  orders S.

Master is behind me holding my hands behind my back.  I close my eyes.  

"You're going to hit her with that?" Master says.

"Now don't open your eyes at all.  Are they all closed?"  This is S. again.  I nod my head.

Another voice near by: "That S, he's the meanest motherfucker I know."

"Hahahahaha, thanks R.!"  says S.   

"It's coming.  Soon.  You are about to get it".  At this point I'm breathing hard and don't even know who is talking.

THWACK!   One giant slap down on my breast.

"Oh, you have to do the other too.  For symmetry", says my Master.

"Oh yes, for symmetry".   S. again.

THWACK! and that is for the other boob. 

My legs went all shaky.   Master asked if he needed a towel, and when the answer was no, he made me cum right there.  On the floor.   He was still holding me up by my arms.  

-----------------

We had a very fun time at the Halloween party.   There were lots of beatings, all kinds of other kinky stuff, good food (bacon maple frosting cupcakes and peanut butter cups to die for), and friendly people.   We stayed up late, and then got up and had delicious breakfast casserole that kaya made (I need to get that recipe).

New Rule

You don't know until you ask, right?  I probably should have asked first, but I didn't.  Instead I acted first and then asked if it was ok later.   
What did I do?  Well, I did have permission to masturbate while he has been gone this week, and I did, but I was feeling a little squirrelly- like I wanted a little something more, I guess.   So a couple of times I took the cane and whacked myself in the thigh with it 3 or 4 strikes.   It pushed me right over the edge.  But later on, while messaging with Master at lunch time today, I asked if this were ok and he said NO.  

So, I felt quite abashed, and embarrassed that I hadn't thought to ask FIRST, then I wrote the new rule down in my journal.  "NO whacking self with things".   

----------------------
 
I am soooo excited about this weekend.  We are going to a kinky Halloween party Saturday, and I might be able to play with a couple other doms.   I hope Master will have time to play with me also since he has some things planned with others as well.   Either way, we will get to spend lots of time together and that will be wonderful! 

Just the Best

I had a perfectly poopy day, and he's not home tonight, but one little phone conversation and he's got me smiling and laughing again.   I have the best Master in the whole wide world, yes I do!  

House Hunting- Now With More Cunt!

So, I totally fucked up the appointment Monday to look at houses and by the time I figured out what Master actually wanted, it was too late to change it.    He wanted me to go look without him all morning, and then to go back to look at the best ones with him in the afternoon since he only worked half a day.   I had arranged to meet the real estate agent at 1:00 and only look at houses together, which meant we didn't get to see very many.

It was just a misunderstanding, and though I felt bad when he very sternly pointed out that I had messed it all up, he later said that he was glad he got to see them all, since my idea of a pretty good house and his are totally different.   We only saw one that I liked, and he found it unpleasant and totally unsuitable for us.  I mainly liked it for the land, outbuildings (barns!) and location (lack of neighbors and privacy is a biggie).   I also liked the big kitchen.   He looks more at the interior structures, plumbing, electricity, the layout and the need to have TWO bathrooms.  He needs and deserves his own bathroom, after all.   I suggested putting in an outhouse, but he didn't think that was too funny.   

We had a fun time just being together though, like a drive in the country day, but with more purpose.   Sometimes on quiet stretches he made me pull down my pants.  Fun, fun!

On the way home he did the same, then slapped my thighs (hard!) and stuck a finger in my very wet cunt.   

Needless to say, by bedtime I was a rolling boil of hunger.   He wanted to whip me, so he put me in position on the floor and stung and slashed with the short whip.   He motioned to me to remove his shoes, then his belt and pants, underwear and socks.  I did so while kneeling in front of him.  He pulled me in by a grip on my hair and ears (handles, he calls them) and shoved his cock into my mouth.  I ate it up eagerly, and he continued with the whipping.  He pushed me away, back down on to my back and laid the whip on my front, every time it struck between my legs they would reflexively try to snap shut, even though most it wasn't that hard.  

"Are you trying to protect your cunt from me?" he demanded.  

Ummmm, yes, I said, only inside my head, because owie!   I don't know if I said anything at all out loud or not, but I spread my thighs for him once more.   Then came the super stinger, right on the cunt, leaving a big red weal.   I really yelped at that, my legs snapped shut, and it took all my self control not to continue to try to hide myself.   Or maybe crawl away and hide under the bed.  No, that would be bad, really bad.   On top of that soreness, fucking felt fabulous.  

And now that it feels better, I want him to do it again. 
 

 

Can a slave ask a favor?

Absolutely.   

But asking is not the same as receiving.   

In fact, sometimes it is the opposite, or there may be payment required first.

Last night I was on my knees next to him and reluctantly asked him if I could ask for something.  (This is my indirect chicken shit way of sneaking up on topics that I don't like to talk about.  Asking for special favors of things he may not like to give is one of those things.)

I asked if the next time we played in public if he could please not ask me repeatedly if I wanted him to stop, because it seriously messed with my head and was worse than anything he would do to me physically.   It messed with my head in a bad way, not the good way from This post.  It makes feel TOO MUCH IN CHARGE.  Which, though deep down I know I really am not, I don't like to feel even a little bit, especially when I'm trying to get into the headspace of playing.

 He doesn't do it when we play alone.  Well, occasionally he asks in an obviously taunting way, (it is easy to tell a serious tone from a taunting one)  but in public he seems to worry about me not actually enjoying it, or possibly when I am more stiff in my reactions, because of people watching and nerves, it makes him feel like something is wrong with me.    I think he took my concern seriously, and he said he could do that for me.  I promised that if something were seriously wrong, and not just my nerves or not being warmed up, I would let him know. 
 
Then came the payment for future favors.  He proceeded to painfully twist my nipples while asking me if I wanted him to stop, barely giving me a chance to squeak out "No, Master",  as he was saying he really didn't fucking care what I wanted.   

Doing it Wrong

Master told me to make sure to strike the right tone of melancholy in the blog today.   Of course, he told me this on the way home from the bar last night when he was quite a bit more than tipsy and a bit maudlin.  Neither of us could even remember the last time he had more than a couple beers.  It was certainly before we were Master and slave.

 I was driving, of course, since my main purpose for being along was so that he could have a sober driver when he went out for a good bye drink (many drinks) with some of his favorite former coworkers.   Though he is adamantly against drinking and driving, he is evidently not against extremely bossy passengering (he told me I was going way too slow, didn't I want to ever get home? "Speed up before I hit you!") while drunk, nor against orgasming and driving, since he made me cum twice on the way home, after grabbing the wheel from me.  The second time was at least while I was nearly at a stop anyway, and both were on slow, completely deserted roads.  

As if that weren't doing it wrong enough, he said he'd beat me when we got home, drinking or not, and if he was "up to it", fuck me also.  He also wanted to pee on me, but ended up deciding not to because then he'd have to wait for me to shower. 

So anyway, back to our proper melancholy tone, it is quite possibly the last time he's going to see any of those people, and especially for one woman, he's not sure he'll ever work with someone with her dedication and talent again.   She had to leave the job for similar reasons- intolerable work environment- and it is very sad to see someone so competent and committed to her work abused in that way.  But doing shots together and playing skeeball (a really, really stupid game, as I found out) is the traditional Wisconsin way to "celebrate" this shit. 

I was slightly concerned that he'd get drunk and then want to show off "stupid slave tricks" for his friends, to make me do humiliating things in front of them, but he said that would have been bad for his reputation.    So, thank goodness for that at least.  

And fastforwarding to back home, Master let me have a couple shots "to catch up" as he started looking at stuff on the computer.  He made me strip down to just my boots.    He fondled me and pinched me for a time, then sent me upstairs to fetch Uma, the paddle.   My lips and finger tips were numb and tingly from the gin. 

  He bent me over the kitchen cabinet and spanked me, hard, for a long time.  I asked permission to come.  Denied.  I asked permission to touch myself.  Denied.  I asked permission to touch his cock when he let me have a break from spanking.  Also denied.  Each denial was accompanied by a tremendous slap (or several) to my tits.  

I think he's bossier when drunk.

He set me on his knee and let me ride it like a very, very slutty pony rider.   I drenched his pants.  He shoved me up against the wall by my throat, told me I was just his hole, a very wet, messy hole and made me cum and squirt, again, then told me to bend over and grab the counter. There was a lot more paddling, then he took me upstairs so I could suck his cock and, as it turned out, he was still quite capable of fucking me to a frazzle.     

He woke up this morning just as horny as last night, and stuck his hand between my legs to spread them.  Then he pushed my head down to his dick.  Before sending me off to fetch the kids back from their sleepover, he let me alternate between sucking and fucking, with much face slapping,  until I'd totally drenched the sheets.  

He told "slave" is too nice a word for me, and  my new name is "hole".  He proceeded to call me that and nothing else throughout the morning session.  I am his hole, for his pleasure.  A slippery, wet, tight, slutty hole.   Several holes, actually, but "hole" is a good enough name. 

On second thought, if this is doing it wrong, I don't want to be right. 
   

 

Friday Night of Rapey Goodness

He already had me down on the floor, was already inside me, when he told me to struggle and try to escape.  He told me he wanted it to be rape. 
 I tried to wiggle away, but it was no good, I was completely pinned and helpless.  Plus, it felt SO good, I didn't really want to escape. (such a bad victim!)  
When I kicked his legs and pushed vainly at his chest, he grabbed the back of my hair and pinned me to the ground.   I couldn't move without ripping my hair out so I stayed still until he released that grip to go for my hand.   He tried to take my hand in his, and I knew he was aiming for the pain pressure point there so I flipped my hand all over the place trying to avoid him.  It didn't do any good-  he got the hand anyway and squeezed that tender point until I yelped.   

He told me I wasn't getting an orgasm until I escaped.   I twisted and writhed, only making it feel better for him, not getting away at all, for long minutes.   Then somehow I scooted on my back to the edge of the carpet, (about a foot from our starting spot) and he pulled back and yanked both my legs toward himself, burning my back along the rug.   He threw my legs up in the air and came down on me hard and deep, hurting my insides with banging up against them too deep.   I was trying to struggle once more when he said fiercely:

"You whore, you slut, you cocksucking cunt, you better hold still and get raped".

All the fight when out of me and I went still, though I didn't know if this was still part of the game or if he was serious. 
 He sounded serious.  I obeyed.   

After more deep fucking, my legs still over his shoulders, he pulled out and came all over my stomach and breasts.   

We lay back together on the floor, and I asked him if I should still be trying to escape.   He said if I were smart, now would be the time to kill him with a sharp spike and get away.  
I was actually shocked at that, but said I could never do that, that I was for sure afflicted with Stockholm Syndrome and the worse he treated me the more I'd love him.  

This must have been some kind of invitation (!!) for him to start slapping my face, harder and harder, just on one side because the other cheek was pressed flat on the floor, my eyes squinched shut.  Finally he told me to come, but he kept me slapping until I'd had multiple orgasms.   

I don't think escape is all it is cracked up to be anyway.  

Celebration

Master's new workplace hit a major accomplishment on Friday, and he must in part be responsible, or at least a large contributor.    

He said everyone was celebrating, and I asked him if that meant they were going to be getting cupcakes on Monday.

He said "Yes, I think so."  Pause. Then with a playful (hard) smack:  "Because you are going to be making them, bitch!"   

I wonder if he'd accept cookies instead?  I'm much better with them, and I already bought the ingredients.

How My Night Went

Yesterday I had a whole long post written about diet/exercise and how hungry I was.  I ended up deleting it without saving it because the whole thing depressed me so much that I didn't think anyone would enjoy it.  

So, instead of that, we are moving on to How My Night Went.    

Master got home late, and left early, only being in the house for about 10 hours, and most of that was sleeping.  He had me get up earlier to make breakfast so he could get a few more minutes of rest.  Now he's gone until Friday night.   

I shut down/ tuned out/ postponed everything I normally do in the evening in order to simply follow him around the house and be with him.  Only the dishes and taking care of the animals couldn't wait until the next day.  

At bedtime while I waited for him to come to our room I did some stretching, then got into position for him.

He entered, and after walking around me to inspect me, laid me down on the floor and held me.  It was not what I expected, but I melted into his arms and enjoyed being there.  When he'd had enough cuddling, he asked me why I deserved to get beaten that night.   I listed off all of the GOOD things I had done in the past two days, all the tasks that he required.  

 He told me to stand and he got out the belt.   It only took a few strokes for him to realize that the snapping motion was going to hurt his shoulder, so he switched to the whip, which I guess is easier to use.  

He pushed me down to the floor and with my nose an inch from his cock he whipped me again.  I tried to take him in my mouth but he tapped my nose, and said "Ah, ah, not yet.  Not until I say."   He made me beg for it before he'd allow me to suck, so when he finally grabbed the back of my hair and thrust deep into my mouth I was desperately eager for him.   He used my ears as handles and told me that is what they are made for.  He fucked my mouth, calling me "Whore, slut, cocksucker, fucktoy".   Then he whipped me again, and I was on the verge of coming.   Finally he told me to orgasm, and I did, with his cock in my mouth and the whip stinging my back.   

He stood me up again and got out the smiley paddle.  Yes, I did miss the smiley paddle.  :)   He beat some fresh bruises into my ass with it, and when I started to whimper he asked, redundantly, if it hurt.

"Yes, Master" I said.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked.

"Whatever you want, Master".  The only reply I'm allowed.   The truth, as it happens.

"Good girl" he told me.

And began whaling on me again with the paddle as I danced from one foot to the other.  
  
When he stopped and tilted my head back using my hair, tucking me  into his shoulder for a brief moment, I felt nothing in the world could be better.  I smiled at him, rested my head on his chest.

Then he ordered me into bed.  With the vibrator.   Much fucking and many orgasms later, we tucked under the covers together.   I know I slept like a rock after that!   

Getting in Shape- err Trying, Anyway

My body evidently loves the weight it is at.  If there is ever a famine, I'm sure I'll be one of the survivors, because it hangs on to every extra pound like there might be a dry spell with nothing to eat just around the corner.   

Me (talking to myself):   "We have been exercising over an hour a day and eating hundreds less calories per day than the RDA.  What gives that you still weigh the same?"

My body: "I need that fat! I'm storing it for YOU!  What if we run out of food tomorrow?"

Me: "Shut up, there is plenty of food.  Don't you want to look better in that one dress?"

My body: "No!  I care not for dresses!   WE will survive the next famine!"

Me:  "Famine, what famine?  Stupid body."

My body: "You will thank me later when all the naturally skinny people are wasting away and we are living off of sawdust and leather scraps".  

Me:  "Bitch!"  

Objectified

I thought I made it obvious, but just to say it again, the previous blog was entirely fiction.  Out of my own head.   Made up fantasy.

Anyway, it has been wonderful having Master home this weekend.  There has been sex, and beatings, and more sex, and last night a very long, hard caning that he was just sure should have left some marks, but there were just a few little ones.  

About last night, I have a hard time sometimes, emotionally, with his multitasking.  I'm pretty much an attention whore, really.  He was in the middle of reading a book when I came to bed and curled up next to him.  After a short cuddle he said "You need to go get the cane".

I hopped up and went and fetched it. 

Then he proceeded to beat me almost absent-mindedly, while still reading the book, for a long, long time.   

At first I had all kinds of thoughts going through my head, like "Is he really interested in me at all? Or am I just something to occupy his hands while he reads?" and so on.  I was even a bit angry.  Briefly, the image flashed across my mind of getting up, grabbing the book and the cane from him and throwing them across the room.  

However, from past experience (heh) I have learned that that sort of thing will definitely not be tolerated, and I'd be in hella big trouble for even making the smallest objection to what he chose to do.  So I lay quietly and accepted it as his wishes.  I put myself into a place of acceptance.  Submission.

 It ended up being the ultimate objectification.   By the middle of it I wasn't even sure I was present mentally any more.  I felt like a thing.  Just a thing and nothing else.  I didn't react to any of the cane strokes with a noise or a jump or anything more than a slight twitch no matter how hard they got.  

And it was getting harder and harder, possibly in an effort to make me react.  He didn't talk to me the way he usually does, which made it all the easier for my mind to slip away.  By the end I could tell the book was pretty much sidelined, but by then I was quite gone, just a piece of rug lying on the bed to be pounded.  I still reacted automatically every time he told me to orgasm, and then after that for a few minutes the pain of the cane would be intensified and I'd moan or whimper a little bit, but then I'd go back to not reacting, to slipping off somewhere...

Afterward,  he cuddled up to me and told me how he loved me and what a good slave I was.  I felt so deeply my status as his property, his slave, but a much loved property, that I was nestled in a cocoon of  peace and comfort.  I could feel the welts on my butt, like a lumpy cartographic map, full of mountains and valleys, and they reassured me.  I drifted off perfectly happy,  wishing for nothing else but to be his in exactly this way. 

Postscript:  he just read this blog before I published it and said that was exactly the effect on my mind that he was going for.

Just a Story

Just a little imagination running wild here:

When Master gets home, the kids are at their friends' place.  I'm wearing my leather collar and have knelt at the door when I see him pull in the driveway.  

He doesn't know it, but I have a surprise for him.   He has one for me also, though his was considerably easier to pick up.

He enters, sees me naked on the floor, and smiles.  It is good to be home, good to be the Master.  After stroking my head he tells me to follow him upstairs.  My heart is in my throat, fearful, wondering and hoping he is going to like my surprise.   

When he enters the bedroom, he sees her, a beautiful creature, full breasts, slim waist, gently rounded hips.   She has agreed to play with us for the night, to serve him as a temporary slave.   She smiles bashfully up at him from her position on the floor.   She is wearing only jewelry, a decorative chain necklace and matching bracelets.   

I can see in Master's face his approval and excitement.  This is something out of fantasy, no?  

He turns to me "How? who? what?" so I give him the briefest version I can manage, with still hitting the important points of what she will/won't do, and who she is.    He seems quite astounded but very happy with those conditions.  

He pulls her to her feet and runs his hands down her body, pausing briefly at her breasts to weigh them in his hands.   When he reaches her cunt he grabs it roughly and fingers her hard, feeling the wetness that is her arousal.   Then he turns to me and holds out his finger.  "Suck" he says.  I suck his finger, tasting her.  He grabs a fistful of my hair and tips my head back, shoving his finger in deeper, gagging me. 

"Do you want to see me fuck her?" he asks.

"Yes, Master".    It sounds more like "Yeth, Mthggger".

"I don't know about that.  You may be blindfolded instead, little slavegirl.  But you can certainly hear." 

He tells us both to kneel and wait.   He goes out but comes right back with a chair from down stairs.  He blindfolds me, then pushes me over the chair and ties my hands and feet underneath.   He positions our new friend in front of me, where I can feel my hair lightly brushing her legs.  

He is doing something that makes her moan and sigh.  I desperately want to know, to see, but I wait patiently.   

SMACK!  

I feel the riding crop on my ass.   

He beats me hard for a while, then switches to the short whip.  It feels so delightfully stingy.  I am close to coming, but without permission I don't.   

A few more minutes of nothing then, of waiting.  I feel his absence like a chasm.  He is doing something with her; I hear more moans of pleasure then smacking sounds as he spanks her.  I'm going to guess he's using his hand.   Then I feel a hand in my hair, lifting my head.  Lips on my lips, but feminine soft lips, not my Master.   She is kissing me sweetly when I feel the whip again.   Then he's dripping some cold slick lube on my ass.   He shoves the string of beads in there, and it feels so wonderful that now I'm desperate to come.  Still no command, but only a couple of hard smacks on my butt.   

I hear some scuffling, then a light thud.  I believe she has landed on the floor in front of me.  There are sounds and smells of sex.   They are very close to my face.  Moaning, sighing, grunting, groaning sounds.   He is fucking her mere inches from my face.  I feel the humiliation of my position.  How I have brought him someone that at least for this moment, is more exciting, newer, more enticing than me.   

Then he's untying me, and removing the blindfold.  Both of them are tousled and flushed.  He puts both of us at his feet and we share his cock, taking turns worshiping him with our mouths.  He has a hand on each of our heads and he is leaned back, eyes closed with pleasure. 

Master tells me to lie on the floor, then has her get on her hands and knees over me.  He takes her from behind, and I watch them screw, touching both, fondling and stroking.  It makes me so aroused, and I long to feel something in my pussy.   The beads are still in my ass, but the other hole is quite empty and hungry to be filled. 

He pulls out and comes, spurting over both of us.  

While he watches she takes a dildo from the drawer and fucks me with it.  Master tells me to come, smacks my face, and breasts, tells me to come over and over, all the while the dildo is fucking me and I am in ecstacy.

Finally they have used me to exhaustion, and as we start to curl up on the bed together, Master starts up, remembering his surprise for me. 

Out of his suitcase he takes a long package.  

"Look what came today, slave".

With a wicked grin, he pulls out the long handle of the branding iron.   On the end are the three letters of his initials. 

"Guess what we are doing early tomorrow morning?"

I tremble, but am too tired to be kept awake long by the thought of it.  Instead, I dream of sizzling heat and pain.   
 



 

Found!

Master's schedule turned out to be not quite as bad as I was afraid.  He has different start/end times each day, so based on those he's been able to come home most nights, except for Tuesday and Thursday.   We still have far less time together because he gets home much later and leaves much earlier, and doesn't have a day off during the week, so I've been feeling pretty lonely, and missing him.

I've been staying really busy and not moping though, between getting more exercise (made it to yoga/pilates/tai chi twice this week, in addition to walking an hour a day) and cleaning like a mad woman.  

He still definitely wants to move us closer to work though.  

On another note: 
 
Wednesday I was cleaning out boxes in the closet and discovered, buried in magazines, a dragon tail whip that I thought we'd lost about 8 months ago. 
  Wednesday night Master used it on me again, and though I had a few moments of "WHY did I miss this?" when it really stung, after a few more minutes the pleasure overcame pain and I remembered why I missed it.   When he stopped I wished he'd keep on with it forever.  Well, maybe not forever, that would be silly, but I didn't want it to stop.  

Keep calm

KEEP CALM 

AND 

OBEY YOUR

 MASTER

This was the little reminder that I drew, and colored, in my journal (paper journal) today.   Just as a reminder.  He had given me a little talk about this last night, which I have been replaying in my head today and it has really helped.

Master won't be home tonight and it was stressing me out just a little bit, but I've been busy doing stuff all day, and am feeling pretty good.

Tasks accomplished:

-Fed kids

-Older kid was driven to school after he missed the bus.

-Younger kid caught his bus

 -Sorted through the kids books and donated some, plus a few bags of my stuff at Goodwill

-Went to combination yoga/pilates/tai chi for an hour class

-Went for a walk with Mystique and her dogs for half an hour

-Shopped at the Mart of Wall.  

-Swept back deck

-Placed animal deterrant under the gutter that the dogs keep knocking off the house.  (I used one of those plastic chair mats, with the pointy side up- that I got at WM)

-Fed ducks

-Swept out basement and stairs

-Sorted through the kids books and donated some, plus a few bags of my stuff at Goodwill

-Cleaned Master's bathroom top to bottom

-Did all the sheets and blankets laundry from the kids beds

 

Consequences

I accidentally left my underwear on the floor the other day. 
We were home alone "gettin' frisky" and when it was all over I must have missed scooping them with my other things.   I don't know how, it was not like I had that many "things."

A while later I walked past him.

  "You left your panties on the floor", he said, stuffing them in my mouth.  "Kind of fragrant, aren't they?" 

Me: "Mmmmmphmmmfff".   

 

Is Today a Beating Day?

This week has been full of hot passionate sex, pain, humiliation and all that good stuff.  Master having a week between jobs has given us lots of time to clean and work on home projects, but also for some good recreation :). 

Last night I was expecting to be sent straight to bed, but instead Master used me as his collection of holes to be filled.  He made me repeat to him over and over "I am nothing but your collection of holes".   I was quite exhausted afterward, and if not sexually satisfied, at least satisfied that I had been useful and pleasing to him.

This morning when he woke up and threw back the covers off me, looming over me with that lustful look, I asked if today were perhaps a beating day for me.   I fully expected him to say maybe later, after the munch we're going to, but instead he said I should fetch him a paddle and then I could see if it were a beating day.

Oh yes it was, and how!  And fucking, and sucking, and coming.

He kept on paddling so long that when he asked if I wanted him to stop I finally said "Yes".  
Of course, he kept going anyway. 
I didn't really expect anything else. 

My ass is sore and bruised, and I have a perma-grin on my face. 

Later today we get to go to a rope demo/munch with some of my favorite rope people.  Rain and dreary weather notwithstanding, it seems like a good day.

Also, for Master's new job, tomorrow he wants me to make cookies for him to take along to share.  I enjoy baking (and tasting) cookies, so I'm looking forward to that also.

 

Kink of the Week: Voyeurism

Oh heck yes, I like to watch.   I may do it from a distance, out of the corner of my eye, so as not to seem rude, or so as not to drool on people without their consent (heh), but I watch avidly none the less.

I don't enjoy watching people being intimate who think they are unobserved.  Even the idea of that makes me uncomfortable.  I like it when they know they are being watched and are doing it to be watched.  

I don't get the same thrill from porn.  It doesn't ever seem real to me, and I like real.  Real people, with real bodies, not porn star bodies.  Real moments of "ah shoot, I missed" or "whoopsie".   Real grimaces of pain.  Real emotions, not theater.  Orgasms that are subtle, so you wonder "Did she or didn't she?"  
Threats that actually scare ME, as an observer.   It is a huge thrill.   

What turns me on the most though is watching someone I love or care about a great deal play.   I love their expressions when the play gets intense.  I'll sometimes just be watching Mystique's face as she does fire play on someone else.  The look of sadistic delight in her eyes turns me on more than the prettiest exposed body part of someone I don't know well. 

I once watched Master take part in a gang bang scene. I didn't participate, but watching him made me feel way too excited to even think of jealousy.    

I don't know if voyeurism has to go along with exhibitionism, but they do go well together.  

Which kind of leads me into the other thing I was going to write about today, which was our morning of kink.   This has a bit more to do with the exhibitionist side. 

I was feeling a bit mopey.  Again.  
Master wasn't having any of it.  Again. 

 He's determined to beat or fuck the sad out of me even if it takes all week.    I'm not going to complain about that, as I always end up enjoying it even if I was slower to get started with the enjoyment than he'd like.    

He smacked me around quite a bit while fucking me, then put me on the floor on my knees and whipped me until he'd given my cunt (and the rest of me) a thoroughly stingy, ouchie feeling.   Then he took me again, and the pain down there from the whipping made the fucking even better.

Master put me on the bed, ass raised, and dripped on some lube.  I knew where that was going now.  First his finger, which was fine, nice feeling even, then his cock, bigger, much bigger, and seeming like it was never going to fit the first time he tried.  I jumped out of  the way and squeaked in pain.   He put me back in position and shoved it in again.   He rode me hard, until I was gasping and  panting and screaming uncontrollably.  He encouraged me to make more noise, no muffling pillow needed today.   

When he was finished and I was reduced to a damp leaf on the bed, I asked him if he still planned to do that in front of people, a bunch of people, as he had mentioned before.  He said yes absolutely, that would be just the best, making me scream like I had just done with an audience.    Then he asked me if I'd like to watch others doing the same thing, or perhaps him doing it to someone else.  I said, yes absolutely I would like to watch.  I'm not proud.  Heh. 

New Job

Some days, I have nothing to write. 

Other days, I have so much going on I don't even know where to start. 

Yesterday we spent the day together looking at houses, but Master then decided to accept a job in the opposite direction.  He just wasn't all that taken with the area, and I agreed.  He took me down there to get my opinion. 
He's done small town living, he didn't like it, and this town would have been smaller than any he's ever lived in. 

  He starts Monday.  The area seems to be a good and growing one, with plenty to do and a larger community than we have here. 

  He won't be home every night, because it is quite a ways from here and the hours will be long.  He'll be home only on the weekends, most likely, which has me alternating between sleep destroying anxiety and a resigned acceptance.  I haven't been without him for more than a few nights in years and I feel quite dependent.    

We will still have to move when our house sells.   We'll be looking for another small farm so we don't have to get rid of our animals.  The dogs are really family anyway, most of them.  
 
I tried to think of a few positives today.

• Instead of my bedtime routine I'll be able to read in bed under the covers. (Ohh, how I will miss the routine, though)
• I can eat bacon sandwiches with mayo.  (Master detests mayo with a passion).
• We can have phone and/or cyber sex. (Ok, I'm not that excited about that one compared to the real thing).
• The weekends will have the intensity of reunion sex and play.   He'll have to beat me harder to make it last.  ;)   
• He promised I can have lots of orgasms. 
• ?
• The big one:  he's EMPLOYED and thus we won't run out of money.  YAY!

Penises Are Icky

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