Master and I have been having ongoing talks about a certain topic for the past few weeks.
It is my dogs/sheep/sheepherding/dog trialing hobby.
I think I have mentioned this a few times in passing, but not gone into any in-depth discussion.
For the past almost 20 years I have this hobby, really an obsession, of training dogs for sheepdog trials.
Evidently I have trouble holding more than one obsession in mind at a time, because ever since I became a slave and we got involved in BDSM I have been cutting back on the dog activities. But animals are not something you can put down like basket making or knitting. Even when you lose the driving obsession to compete with them, which takes considerable expenditures of time, energy and money, the dogs are still there demanding care, attention and training (a high energy working breed just does not do well if they have to find their own entertainment).
Anyway, other than putting a restriction on how much I could spend a few years ago, he hadn't discouraged me at all. There is no actual reason I can't both be a slave and continue to train and trial dogs. So we talked about why I wasn't training anymore, and why I hadn't been to any trials except as a judge in a very long time. Some main reasons came out :
1. Money- I didn't want to spend it on things that did not directly benefit us/our time together/him.
2. Time- I didn't want to be away from him for several or many weekends a year. When I was actively campaigning for Stockdog Finals- one has to earn points to get in- this took A LOT of time and money, in travel, entry fees and hotels. There really are no trials that are local to us.
3. Relative importance- When I have things I HAVE to do, according to his rules, I, of course, put priority on those. The training gets pushed off and just not done, because I don't really want to do it, and I don't have to do it, so I don't. I do have the time; I just don't have the motivation.
He told me that he didn't want me to give up my hobby for him, or for any of those reasons. We may not have the money for me to trial a lot right now, but I can always train, and then I'd be able to trial if we do have more money later.
I told him about my problems with self motivation, and he said he'd consider making out a schedule, which I would then be required to follow.
A few days later, after he'd had a chance to consider what he wanted, he wrote down a schedule for me, putting down some extra chores that he wants done weekly, as well as days that are marked for exercise (for me) and for herding with the dogs.
I'm good at following orders :), so I have been sticking to his schedule since then. Thursday was the holiday, so he told me to move my exercise day to Friday instead this week.
If for any reason I can't follow it I have to email or call him and let him know right away (deep snow or ice might be a reason).
I have found that I still do enjoy training the dogs, even though sometimes getting started involves an act of will. Once I get out there I have a good time. The dogs love it too. I enjoy it even more knowing that Master requires it, that it is not just some whim of mine that may be taking away from the time I devote to things he wants me to do. I just feel better all around knowing that it IS something he wants me to do, and he wants it enough that he has made it mandatory.
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Friday, November 29, 2013
Happy Thanksgivukkah!
I hope you had a lovely day yesterday, whether you are celebrating Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, both, or nothing at all.
We are not particularly religious, but our good friends are Jewish, so we celebrated both holidays with them last night, with lots of turkey, stuffing, pie and other traditional Thanksgiving fare, along with lighting of the Menorahs at sunset, and gelt and presents for the kids.
Other than my having a stomach ache all day and not really being able to eat comfortably (I ate as much as I could anyway), we had a great time. I am so thankful for my friends, and spent yesterday considering how rich they make my life.
These friends are vanilla, and people often ask how does a Master/slave couple behave at vanilla occasions. I suppose if someone has only porn and imagination to rely on, it must seem like we'd look totally out of place. But for anyone that has been in a power exchange relationship as a part of full time life, it becomes obvious that the way we behave is totally natural and unexceptional.
He tells me what time we go, and what time we leave. I asked him for approval on the outfit I was planning to wear.
He gets his own plate of food (buffet style dinner) because he prefers to chose the dishes and amounts himself. Master poured the wine we had brought for everyone at the table also. No real reason, he just did it.
I served him coffee, and put sugar in it for him. When he got up to help clear things I offered to take them for him. He smiled at me and said to our host "I like this method of clearing things", as I took them away.
I'm grateful for having the world's best Master, and for how close we are, for the love and the memories, and the fantastic sex we share.
I'm thankful for my children, and their good health, for my parents and their endless love and support.
I'm also thankful to my blog readers, who make me feel like I'm not writing into a vacuum here, or to myself, but actually writing to friends out there who are supportive of, and interested in, my journeys.
Wishing you and yours the best on this day of mad shopping craziness!
Speaking of which, we don't do the whole Black Friday thing. I'm not into shopping with crowds, and he's basically forbidden the purchase of anything that is not an emergency today.
We are not particularly religious, but our good friends are Jewish, so we celebrated both holidays with them last night, with lots of turkey, stuffing, pie and other traditional Thanksgiving fare, along with lighting of the Menorahs at sunset, and gelt and presents for the kids.
Other than my having a stomach ache all day and not really being able to eat comfortably (I ate as much as I could anyway), we had a great time. I am so thankful for my friends, and spent yesterday considering how rich they make my life.
These friends are vanilla, and people often ask how does a Master/slave couple behave at vanilla occasions. I suppose if someone has only porn and imagination to rely on, it must seem like we'd look totally out of place. But for anyone that has been in a power exchange relationship as a part of full time life, it becomes obvious that the way we behave is totally natural and unexceptional.
He tells me what time we go, and what time we leave. I asked him for approval on the outfit I was planning to wear.
He gets his own plate of food (buffet style dinner) because he prefers to chose the dishes and amounts himself. Master poured the wine we had brought for everyone at the table also. No real reason, he just did it.
I served him coffee, and put sugar in it for him. When he got up to help clear things I offered to take them for him. He smiled at me and said to our host "I like this method of clearing things", as I took them away.
I'm grateful for having the world's best Master, and for how close we are, for the love and the memories, and the fantastic sex we share.
I'm thankful for my children, and their good health, for my parents and their endless love and support.
I'm also thankful to my blog readers, who make me feel like I'm not writing into a vacuum here, or to myself, but actually writing to friends out there who are supportive of, and interested in, my journeys.
Wishing you and yours the best on this day of mad shopping craziness!
Speaking of which, we don't do the whole Black Friday thing. I'm not into shopping with crowds, and he's basically forbidden the purchase of anything that is not an emergency today.
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Monday Play/ Spanish Lessons
Monday, Master's day off, was a beautiful day, cold outside and just perfect for staying inside and watching movies, with no kids around to hear should I get a little, um, noisy.
We watched for a while, then he let me go get my collar, cuffs and leash. He had me put the collar and leash on and sit beside him on the couch, leash pulled tight across his lap. There are few things in my life that equal that feeling. It's almost embarrassing how much I love it.
Instead of putting the ankle cuff on me, he began to beat my ass with one, then with both of them. I held still as long as I could, lying across his lap, then began to wiggle and squirm.
"Hold still, slave, or I will beat you with the buckle end".
That sounded much worse. I held still.
He then led me to the computer and had me sucking his cock for a good long time, stopping or slowing me when he'd get close. He had a crop in his hand and was using it for "encouragement". Once he asked me if my jaw was getting tired, and amazingly enough it was not, though my knees were aching and I kept switching positions to relieve that strain (hardwood floors not so good for kneeling).
Later, upstairs, he took me, and then when he was done he beat me again with the crop so long (and I remember asking for more- crazy masochist!) that I sat uncomfortably all the rest of the day. The hot shower afterward was very stingy!
In the morning, I thought perhaps a very sore pussy from the cropping it received would prevent more horniness. Not so! But he had to leave for work right away, very early.
------------------------------
Spanish Lessons
Later on that evening, we were helping our son with his first year Spanish practice, and he's working on conjugating llevar (to wear).
We watched for a while, then he let me go get my collar, cuffs and leash. He had me put the collar and leash on and sit beside him on the couch, leash pulled tight across his lap. There are few things in my life that equal that feeling. It's almost embarrassing how much I love it.
Instead of putting the ankle cuff on me, he began to beat my ass with one, then with both of them. I held still as long as I could, lying across his lap, then began to wiggle and squirm.
"Hold still, slave, or I will beat you with the buckle end".
That sounded much worse. I held still.
He then led me to the computer and had me sucking his cock for a good long time, stopping or slowing me when he'd get close. He had a crop in his hand and was using it for "encouragement". Once he asked me if my jaw was getting tired, and amazingly enough it was not, though my knees were aching and I kept switching positions to relieve that strain (hardwood floors not so good for kneeling).
Later, upstairs, he took me, and then when he was done he beat me again with the crop so long (and I remember asking for more- crazy masochist!) that I sat uncomfortably all the rest of the day. The hot shower afterward was very stingy!
In the morning, I thought perhaps a very sore pussy from the cropping it received would prevent more horniness. Not so! But he had to leave for work right away, very early.
------------------------------
Spanish Lessons
Later on that evening, we were helping our son with his first year Spanish practice, and he's working on conjugating llevar (to wear).
I danced around the room with my hat, saying:
"Yo llevo un sombrero."
I gave the hat to Master:
"Tu llevas un sombrero", I said.
He looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
"That would be "usted" to you, chiquita", he said.
"Erm, yes, of course. Usted llevas un sombrero".
How handy of Spanish to have a formal/respectful way of saying he wears a hat.
"Yo llevo un sombrero."
I gave the hat to Master:
"Tu llevas un sombrero", I said.
He looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
"That would be "usted" to you, chiquita", he said.
"Erm, yes, of course. Usted llevas un sombrero".
How handy of Spanish to have a formal/respectful way of saying he wears a hat.
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Oh No, He Did Not Just Do That!
I asked to be beaten last night, since it had been all of... um...three days since the last time. Lots of sex, humiliation, slapping, and nipple pinching fun since then, but no just out-and-out beatings since Wednesday.
Yes, I realize that is not a long time, but... what can I say? The more the better? I have no excuses, actually, and I'm not even sure why I feel guilty about it. I asked if he would and he said "Maybe, we'll see". Which means, in Master-language... "Maybe, we'll see."
I tried hard not to expect anything, as my conscious practice of having no expectations has proven to give my mind more peace than getting all ramped up and expectant beforehand.
We watched episode one of the first season of Breaking Bad first, which was really good. We've watched some of the later ones, but never the whole thing in order. I enjoy the humor, and the general wrongness of the whole situation.
After it was over, he started with a boffer sword, and whacking my butt. It's not exactly painful, even to be hit hard, with an insulation foam/duct tape wrapped pvc pipe, but it does have that deeply thuddy, erotically pleasant, ouchy feeling as he hits the same spot repeatedly.
He made me wait in our room for quite a while then. First I did my yoga stretching exercises. Then I knelt in position for a while. Then some more stretching. More kneeling. When I heard him approaching I got properly into position. I don't mind waiting, even though sometimes I complain on here about it. It gets me into a quiet and submissive mindset. It is a ritual that I enjoy, and I'd actually be really upset if I had to give up this little ritual more than just occasionally. Very rarely he tells me not to wait but to get straight into bed. I'd prefer to wait for him though, unless I'm really sick and just want sleep.
When he came in he ordered me to lie on the floor and he gave me a lovely long and painful caning. I was quite a bit floaty when he went and got something from his dresser. He said something about carving his initials in my ass, and I mumbled "Yes Master". Sure, his initials sounded wonderful at that moment.
He ran something cold, sharp and ouchy across tender spots on my butt. I didn't really think he was going to cut me, but the area was so sore already that it hurt. Then he pressed it up against my cunt lips. I stayed soooo still. I whimpered. I was really scared now.
I had my eyes closed tight the whole time, until he told me to roll over on my back. I did so, trying to get a peek at what was in his hand, but he kept it hidden. I closed my eyes again and felt the sharp metal at my throat. He told me to be very still because he wanted to rape me at knife point.
Oh god.
I was as still as could be.
I whimpered in fear. What if it slipped? What if he didn't mean to cut me but did? Even when I opened my eyes I could not see what was in his hand because it was hidden by his hand and arm, and my inability to look down at my own neck without moving a muscle. I just felt cold sharp metal on my neck. It spurred my arousal all the more.
After a long time of him enjoying my fear, and the fucking, he showed me what was in his hand. A Leatherman tool with only the pliers out. Raped at pliers point! How utterly ridiculous it seemed then and I laughed. I pointed out the wire cutters on the tool and said how they could easily take off a nipple.
Leatherman Multi Tool
Yes, I realize that is not a long time, but... what can I say? The more the better? I have no excuses, actually, and I'm not even sure why I feel guilty about it. I asked if he would and he said "Maybe, we'll see". Which means, in Master-language... "Maybe, we'll see."
I tried hard not to expect anything, as my conscious practice of having no expectations has proven to give my mind more peace than getting all ramped up and expectant beforehand.
We watched episode one of the first season of Breaking Bad first, which was really good. We've watched some of the later ones, but never the whole thing in order. I enjoy the humor, and the general wrongness of the whole situation.
After it was over, he started with a boffer sword, and whacking my butt. It's not exactly painful, even to be hit hard, with an insulation foam/duct tape wrapped pvc pipe, but it does have that deeply thuddy, erotically pleasant, ouchy feeling as he hits the same spot repeatedly.
He made me wait in our room for quite a while then. First I did my yoga stretching exercises. Then I knelt in position for a while. Then some more stretching. More kneeling. When I heard him approaching I got properly into position. I don't mind waiting, even though sometimes I complain on here about it. It gets me into a quiet and submissive mindset. It is a ritual that I enjoy, and I'd actually be really upset if I had to give up this little ritual more than just occasionally. Very rarely he tells me not to wait but to get straight into bed. I'd prefer to wait for him though, unless I'm really sick and just want sleep.
When he came in he ordered me to lie on the floor and he gave me a lovely long and painful caning. I was quite a bit floaty when he went and got something from his dresser. He said something about carving his initials in my ass, and I mumbled "Yes Master". Sure, his initials sounded wonderful at that moment.
He ran something cold, sharp and ouchy across tender spots on my butt. I didn't really think he was going to cut me, but the area was so sore already that it hurt. Then he pressed it up against my cunt lips. I stayed soooo still. I whimpered. I was really scared now.
I had my eyes closed tight the whole time, until he told me to roll over on my back. I did so, trying to get a peek at what was in his hand, but he kept it hidden. I closed my eyes again and felt the sharp metal at my throat. He told me to be very still because he wanted to rape me at knife point.
Oh god.
I was as still as could be.
I whimpered in fear. What if it slipped? What if he didn't mean to cut me but did? Even when I opened my eyes I could not see what was in his hand because it was hidden by his hand and arm, and my inability to look down at my own neck without moving a muscle. I just felt cold sharp metal on my neck. It spurred my arousal all the more.
After a long time of him enjoying my fear, and the fucking, he showed me what was in his hand. A Leatherman tool with only the pliers out. Raped at pliers point! How utterly ridiculous it seemed then and I laughed. I pointed out the wire cutters on the tool and said how they could easily take off a nipple.
Leatherman Multi Tool
Saturday, November 23, 2013
His
He said he wanted me upstairs, so I made haste to get up there. As soon as the door was locked he told me to kneel and show my tits.
"Now suck".
I took his cock in my mouth, at first sensually and then tightening my mouth gradually around his shaft. He held my head tight and thrust in and out at an increasing pace, going right down into my throat and making me cough and gag. When he thrust down hard enough to block both throat and airway I couldn't get a breath in at all. He stayed right there. That was when my hands started flapping and he told me to come. The lack of air makes it doubly intense for me and my hands flapped harder. He let me breathe again. I'm his, always his. I feel it down to my toes, only here for his pleasure. Part of his pleasure is to control my orgasms, to send me into lost in pleasure at his whim, any time or any place. With his cock in my throat. At the breakfast table. Anywhere.
He pushed me down on the floor, lifted my skirt up over my hips and took me with one thrust. So tight. He praised my hole. After he had come he stood up and told me to roll over.
He placed his foot on my neck. Pressed down. Pressed a little more. Not enough to hurt, but enough that I definitely felt that another few pounds of pressure and I'd be in trouble. My eyes began to roll and my brain began to fall into space. My fingers clenched into the carpet.
"You're mine."
"Now suck".
I took his cock in my mouth, at first sensually and then tightening my mouth gradually around his shaft. He held my head tight and thrust in and out at an increasing pace, going right down into my throat and making me cough and gag. When he thrust down hard enough to block both throat and airway I couldn't get a breath in at all. He stayed right there. That was when my hands started flapping and he told me to come. The lack of air makes it doubly intense for me and my hands flapped harder. He let me breathe again. I'm his, always his. I feel it down to my toes, only here for his pleasure. Part of his pleasure is to control my orgasms, to send me into lost in pleasure at his whim, any time or any place. With his cock in my throat. At the breakfast table. Anywhere.
He pushed me down on the floor, lifted my skirt up over my hips and took me with one thrust. So tight. He praised my hole. After he had come he stood up and told me to roll over.
He placed his foot on my neck. Pressed down. Pressed a little more. Not enough to hurt, but enough that I definitely felt that another few pounds of pressure and I'd be in trouble. My eyes began to roll and my brain began to fall into space. My fingers clenched into the carpet.
"You're mine."
Thursday, November 21, 2013
An Interlude
He catches me in the kitchen, at the sink. No one is around. He pulls my hair back, then shoves me down, bent over the sink full of dirty dishes on which I was working. My hands grip the edge of the sink and my pussy clenches in anticipation. He's yanked down my jeans without even bothering to unbutton them, and slides a finger under my panties, up to my cunt. It opens for him, and as he taps it, starts to form wetness there. He roughly jerks the panties and jeans down farther now, leaving me to stretch toward him and moan at the absence of his touch.
He is fumbling with his belt now, then his button and zipper. His leg between mine then, kicking my legs further apart to allow his whole hand between them. He cups my cunt in his hand a moment, feeling the warmth, the need and desire for him. Then he gives it a sharp slap and I am on the edge of coming, but he doesn't give the command. Instead he pushes my head further down and plunges his cock into my drenched hole. A brief interlude, that's all, and he decides to wait for another time. Pulling out, he leaves my cunt aching for cock, aching to be filled again. I feel as if I have become just that hole. Just that needy, very greedy hole.
His hole.
He is fumbling with his belt now, then his button and zipper. His leg between mine then, kicking my legs further apart to allow his whole hand between them. He cups my cunt in his hand a moment, feeling the warmth, the need and desire for him. Then he gives it a sharp slap and I am on the edge of coming, but he doesn't give the command. Instead he pushes my head further down and plunges his cock into my drenched hole. A brief interlude, that's all, and he decides to wait for another time. Pulling out, he leaves my cunt aching for cock, aching to be filled again. I feel as if I have become just that hole. Just that needy, very greedy hole.
His hole.
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Surprise!
Master surprised me last night by coming home on a night that he usually stays at our friend's place, closer to work. But he got done early and just really wanted to be home.
When he called and said he was coming I was glad I had showered/shaved and had cleaned the house for most of the day. :) Not that I usually skimp on those things, but, meh, when one doesn't go anywhere or see anyone, sometimes it is easy to skip the things that are not essential for hermits to do. I was wearing jeans and and old sweatshirt, though, so when he was inbound I changed into a skirt, a different top and put on some make up.
I heard him pull in the driveway (the dog warning system works well) and I started reheating his dinner, so when he walked in the door it was all set. Then I rubbed his back as he ate, and rubbed it some more as he played video games. He has been sore again, and this was an order, besides being something I was happy to do.
After the kids were in bed we waited a while until they were actually asleep, then he took me upstairs and caned the heck out of me, front and back. I was a whimpering and sobbing a bit by the time he stopped.
He rolled on his back and told me to kiss him. I struggled to roll over as well and get up on my elbows, fogged and whirly as I was from the caning, then made my way to him and kissed him lightly on the lips.
"What the fuck is that?" he said.
"Umm, you wanted the kisses a couple feet lower?" I blinked at him.
He just rolled his eyes at me. Is that allowed? I'm pretty sure that is not in the Master manual.
I unbuckled his belt and kissed as required. He beat my ass with the cane at the same time, making it hard to concentrate. When I lose concentration too much it gets worse on the ass end, so I did the best I could.
Then there was fucking, and face slapping, and more caning, and lots more fucking... it was just a great time all around.
Happy surprise indeed for me!
This morning he got up at 5, and I was up shortly after him to make his breakfast and serve his tea, and happy to do it, smiling like Snow White after the seven dwarves all banged her!
I haven't looked to see if there were new marks this morning, but my ass, thighs and back were pretty well bruised and whip-striped already from Saturday.
When he called and said he was coming I was glad I had showered/shaved and had cleaned the house for most of the day. :) Not that I usually skimp on those things, but, meh, when one doesn't go anywhere or see anyone, sometimes it is easy to skip the things that are not essential for hermits to do. I was wearing jeans and and old sweatshirt, though, so when he was inbound I changed into a skirt, a different top and put on some make up.
I heard him pull in the driveway (the dog warning system works well) and I started reheating his dinner, so when he walked in the door it was all set. Then I rubbed his back as he ate, and rubbed it some more as he played video games. He has been sore again, and this was an order, besides being something I was happy to do.
After the kids were in bed we waited a while until they were actually asleep, then he took me upstairs and caned the heck out of me, front and back. I was a whimpering and sobbing a bit by the time he stopped.
He rolled on his back and told me to kiss him. I struggled to roll over as well and get up on my elbows, fogged and whirly as I was from the caning, then made my way to him and kissed him lightly on the lips.
"What the fuck is that?" he said.
"Umm, you wanted the kisses a couple feet lower?" I blinked at him.
He just rolled his eyes at me. Is that allowed? I'm pretty sure that is not in the Master manual.
I unbuckled his belt and kissed as required. He beat my ass with the cane at the same time, making it hard to concentrate. When I lose concentration too much it gets worse on the ass end, so I did the best I could.
Then there was fucking, and face slapping, and more caning, and lots more fucking... it was just a great time all around.
Happy surprise indeed for me!
This morning he got up at 5, and I was up shortly after him to make his breakfast and serve his tea, and happy to do it, smiling like Snow White after the seven dwarves all banged her!
I haven't looked to see if there were new marks this morning, but my ass, thighs and back were pretty well bruised and whip-striped already from Saturday.
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
You're Mine! Claimed and Owned. KOTW: Collaring Ceremonies
We did not have a collaring ceremony.
When we first started this neither of us really understood the significance of collars, so the first one I had (and the one I still wear at night or during intensive play) I bought for myself at this little adult novelty (porn 'n' toys) store down south of here. I was sad when they went out of business because they actually had a decent selection of BDSM gear, unlike most of those places.
The significance of the collar grew, in my mind, as I learned more, and I began to wish for one that I could wear during the day, as well as at night. I can't remember exactly when I started wearing the leather collar every single night, or when it became required by him, such that if I forgot for some reason Master would remind me to go put it on. Like a lot of things, it just kind of crept up on me.
He had already declared me his slave, and I had joyfully acquiesced, well before I got a collar from him. It just didn't seem a critical item for slavery to either of us, though I was eventually wishing for one after seeing people on line with collars they could wear 24/7.
Then for Christmas in 2011 he presented me with this necklace:
.jpg)
and said I could consider it my collar.
It was the best Christmas present ever! I was thrilled!
It was important to him to get one that wouldn't raise any eyebrows among vanillas. It also happens to be the most expensive thing (not counting my car or my dogs) that I own. Way, way more costly than my wedding ring or engagement ring.
Oh, and speaking of ownership. That is a whole separate topic, but I do own things as a slave. Since he owns me, he also owns my things in an overarching manner, but we both do call them "my" things still. I know there are many differences of opinion on that subject, but this is how my Master views it, so that is how it is for us.
He later (months later? I'm not really sure) suggested that we could have a collaring ceremony with all our friends invited, if I wanted.
By then it seemed a little beside the point, so I said I didn't need it.
Edit to add: I just realized there is a better picture of my collar at the top of the page. Derp. Anyway...
When we first started this neither of us really understood the significance of collars, so the first one I had (and the one I still wear at night or during intensive play) I bought for myself at this little adult novelty (porn 'n' toys) store down south of here. I was sad when they went out of business because they actually had a decent selection of BDSM gear, unlike most of those places.
The significance of the collar grew, in my mind, as I learned more, and I began to wish for one that I could wear during the day, as well as at night. I can't remember exactly when I started wearing the leather collar every single night, or when it became required by him, such that if I forgot for some reason Master would remind me to go put it on. Like a lot of things, it just kind of crept up on me.
He had already declared me his slave, and I had joyfully acquiesced, well before I got a collar from him. It just didn't seem a critical item for slavery to either of us, though I was eventually wishing for one after seeing people on line with collars they could wear 24/7.
Then for Christmas in 2011 he presented me with this necklace:
.jpg)
and said I could consider it my collar.
It was the best Christmas present ever! I was thrilled!
It was important to him to get one that wouldn't raise any eyebrows among vanillas. It also happens to be the most expensive thing (not counting my car or my dogs) that I own. Way, way more costly than my wedding ring or engagement ring.
Oh, and speaking of ownership. That is a whole separate topic, but I do own things as a slave. Since he owns me, he also owns my things in an overarching manner, but we both do call them "my" things still. I know there are many differences of opinion on that subject, but this is how my Master views it, so that is how it is for us.
He later (months later? I'm not really sure) suggested that we could have a collaring ceremony with all our friends invited, if I wanted.
By then it seemed a little beside the point, so I said I didn't need it.
Edit to add: I just realized there is a better picture of my collar at the top of the page. Derp. Anyway...
Monday, November 18, 2013
Some Days it is NOT so easy
Sometimes it is all fluffy and fuzzy and good times.
And then there are the days when he's telling me "Do this, do that, make me a sandwich..." and I'm doing it, exactly what he says, the whole time thinking: "The very next thing he says, I'm just not doing it, I'm getting in the car and I'm taking a little trip. Not far. Just down to the next town for some shopping. I'll be back by dinner. But fuck it if I'm asking if I can go. I'm just getting in the car and going". But I don't. I can't.
Even though my mood and my attitude just sucks big old donkey balls, I still obey. The whole time I'm telling myself "You're no slave. You are the worst wanna-be slave that ever lived. Cheer the fuck up! What have you got to be sad about? Look at all of this that you have, how lucky you are that you weren't born a street urchin in Bangladesh!! Stop being so god damn mopey!"
Some how that little pep talk does nothing to improve my mood.
Then he calls me over to his side, after he has finished his second sandwich.
"I know what would cheer you up", he says, very confident. "You need to get fucked."
I look at him doubtfully. I don't want to. I'm moping.
I tell him "I don't want to".
He looks at me, shocked, because I NEVER say that. I just don't.
"I didn't ask if you wanted to, did I? That is my cunt and I am going to have it." He said a few more similar things in the same general tone.
We started making some chili together, and he made me suck his cock right there, down level with the chopped onions on the cutting board. I wondered if I was going to cry. I wondered if I did, would it be from the onions or not.
When he ordered it, I followed him meekly upstairs. I stripped and waited naked in the cold while he went to throw another log on the fire. It was freezing up there, with the wind whipping right through the walls.
Once on the bed, I told him I might try to fight back and he held me down by the throat and told me I didn’t have any fight in me. I was going to fucking enjoy it. I was going to beg him for it. Then he hit me in the boob, and on my cheek and told me to come. I did come, I did beg for it and I did enjoy it.
He was right too, all I needed was a little forcible fucking. The bad mood is gone like a morning fog.
And then there are the days when he's telling me "Do this, do that, make me a sandwich..." and I'm doing it, exactly what he says, the whole time thinking: "The very next thing he says, I'm just not doing it, I'm getting in the car and I'm taking a little trip. Not far. Just down to the next town for some shopping. I'll be back by dinner. But fuck it if I'm asking if I can go. I'm just getting in the car and going". But I don't. I can't.
Even though my mood and my attitude just sucks big old donkey balls, I still obey. The whole time I'm telling myself "You're no slave. You are the worst wanna-be slave that ever lived. Cheer the fuck up! What have you got to be sad about? Look at all of this that you have, how lucky you are that you weren't born a street urchin in Bangladesh!! Stop being so god damn mopey!"
Some how that little pep talk does nothing to improve my mood.
Then he calls me over to his side, after he has finished his second sandwich.
"I know what would cheer you up", he says, very confident. "You need to get fucked."
I look at him doubtfully. I don't want to. I'm moping.
I tell him "I don't want to".
He looks at me, shocked, because I NEVER say that. I just don't.
"I didn't ask if you wanted to, did I? That is my cunt and I am going to have it." He said a few more similar things in the same general tone.
We started making some chili together, and he made me suck his cock right there, down level with the chopped onions on the cutting board. I wondered if I was going to cry. I wondered if I did, would it be from the onions or not.
When he ordered it, I followed him meekly upstairs. I stripped and waited naked in the cold while he went to throw another log on the fire. It was freezing up there, with the wind whipping right through the walls.
Once on the bed, I told him I might try to fight back and he held me down by the throat and told me I didn’t have any fight in me. I was going to fucking enjoy it. I was going to beg him for it. Then he hit me in the boob, and on my cheek and told me to come. I did come, I did beg for it and I did enjoy it.
He was right too, all I needed was a little forcible fucking. The bad mood is gone like a morning fog.
Sunday, November 17, 2013
Zappy Fun Times
I'm feeling very mellow today. Actually, mellow may not be the right word. I feel exhausted and yet satisfied. Run down, a bit sick (fending off a slight cold) and yet happy and content.
Last night we attended a small party at a home dungeon with some friends. When I say small, I mean really small.
Master tied me up in a body harness, then helped some other doms who were interested in what he was doing but hadn't really done much rope to do the same thing with their girls.
He tied me to the cross and beat me, then whipped me with the short whip and a couple of longer whips as well. I'm all marked up again, just after the last ones had completely faded. (Smiling big here- ooo, pretty marks!) Meanwhile, we were listening to our friends having fun nearby. To me this is not distracting, it just adds to the wonderful energy of the scene.
At one point he took out a (borrowed) electric flyswatter and started coming at me like he was going to zap my nipples with it.
I make this way, way too much fun for him because of how much it scares me. At the same time as I'm trying to hold still, my nipples are running sacred and trying to hide inside my body. I wasn't actually holding still that well, since he had already untied me. I was more jumping about and saying "No, no, no, no, please, no!"
Master was getting it closer and closer to my poor bare nipple, saying "Ooooo, this is REALLY going to hurt..."
Our friend paused in the torment of her sub to reassure me "No, it really doesn't hurt that much, besides, you have to press the button first".
Master laughed and shushed at her, and her sub shushed at her also, to get her to stop ruining Master's mind game. I was laughing at all of this, but I wasn't any less scared of the zappy thing, because I'd already experienced it (earlier in the evening).
Even though objectively I knew that it hurt less than a whip or cane to the nipple, my lower brain was still screaming "Electricity! Zappy Thing! Electrocution! You're going to die! Run away!"
Master first got me all wet by sucking on the nipple,
"To better conduct the electricity", he said.
He tapped me with the swatter, without pushing the button, and said "Zzzt, zzzt!"
I jumped and shrieked just as if he really had zapped me. I think I also called him a big mean meanie head (or something). Then he started zapping me for real, first with the not so-painful-side, then with the really zappy ouchie side of the toy.
Ok, it really didn't hurt all that horribly, but I'm not loving it any more than I was before. It is still electricity and still scary.
And I'm now thinking of asking if I can buy one for him.
Last night we attended a small party at a home dungeon with some friends. When I say small, I mean really small.
Master tied me up in a body harness, then helped some other doms who were interested in what he was doing but hadn't really done much rope to do the same thing with their girls.
He tied me to the cross and beat me, then whipped me with the short whip and a couple of longer whips as well. I'm all marked up again, just after the last ones had completely faded. (Smiling big here- ooo, pretty marks!) Meanwhile, we were listening to our friends having fun nearby. To me this is not distracting, it just adds to the wonderful energy of the scene.
At one point he took out a (borrowed) electric flyswatter and started coming at me like he was going to zap my nipples with it.
I make this way, way too much fun for him because of how much it scares me. At the same time as I'm trying to hold still, my nipples are running sacred and trying to hide inside my body. I wasn't actually holding still that well, since he had already untied me. I was more jumping about and saying "No, no, no, no, please, no!"
Master was getting it closer and closer to my poor bare nipple, saying "Ooooo, this is REALLY going to hurt..."
Our friend paused in the torment of her sub to reassure me "No, it really doesn't hurt that much, besides, you have to press the button first".
Master laughed and shushed at her, and her sub shushed at her also, to get her to stop ruining Master's mind game. I was laughing at all of this, but I wasn't any less scared of the zappy thing, because I'd already experienced it (earlier in the evening).
Even though objectively I knew that it hurt less than a whip or cane to the nipple, my lower brain was still screaming "Electricity! Zappy Thing! Electrocution! You're going to die! Run away!"
Master first got me all wet by sucking on the nipple,
"To better conduct the electricity", he said.
He tapped me with the swatter, without pushing the button, and said "Zzzt, zzzt!"
I jumped and shrieked just as if he really had zapped me. I think I also called him a big mean meanie head (or something). Then he started zapping me for real, first with the not so-painful-side, then with the really zappy ouchie side of the toy.
Ok, it really didn't hurt all that horribly, but I'm not loving it any more than I was before. It is still electricity and still scary.
And I'm now thinking of asking if I can buy one for him.
Friday, November 15, 2013
KOTW: Spank Me, I'm a BAD Girl: Funishment
I'll just start off by saying I didn't understand the fun of funishment.
I didn't get it. I didn't like it. I was too wrapped up in wanting to please my Master. When he first made up some offense to punish me, I think it was having my necklace tangled in my hair, at first I was really confused.
Did he NOT want me to do that again? I didn't tangle my necklace in my hair on purpose, for fucksake, the chain was super tangly (this was not my normal collar, which is tangle free, thankfully, or I wouldn't have any hair left by now).
Was I REALLY in trouble for something that silly? If he just wanted to beat me why didn't he say "I want to beat you," like he normally does?
So for me the emotional aspect was one of confusion and unhappiness.
I'm not saying we don't like to have fun or joke around. Anyone who has been reading for a while knows this. When he laughs and swats me that is FUN. But when he pretended to be in earnest about being angry and punishing me, that just made me confused and upset. Is this real? Is this fun? What are we doing here?
After doing a little more thinking, talking to him and trying to understand, I realized I could accept any funishment he wanted to do without those unpleasant emotions, simply by realizing that it was fun for him occasionally to play like that. I get off on being used for his own purposes, including this one.
He doesn't do it often, and all I really have to do is check in with him "Am I really in trouble, or is this for fun?" I don't have to silently, in confusion, accept whatever he does to me, I can ask questions and clear things up. This perhaps should have been obvious from the first, but it wasn't.
See other views about this topic at:
I didn't get it. I didn't like it. I was too wrapped up in wanting to please my Master. When he first made up some offense to punish me, I think it was having my necklace tangled in my hair, at first I was really confused.
Did he NOT want me to do that again? I didn't tangle my necklace in my hair on purpose, for fucksake, the chain was super tangly (this was not my normal collar, which is tangle free, thankfully, or I wouldn't have any hair left by now).
Was I REALLY in trouble for something that silly? If he just wanted to beat me why didn't he say "I want to beat you," like he normally does?
So for me the emotional aspect was one of confusion and unhappiness.
I'm not saying we don't like to have fun or joke around. Anyone who has been reading for a while knows this. When he laughs and swats me that is FUN. But when he pretended to be in earnest about being angry and punishing me, that just made me confused and upset. Is this real? Is this fun? What are we doing here?
After doing a little more thinking, talking to him and trying to understand, I realized I could accept any funishment he wanted to do without those unpleasant emotions, simply by realizing that it was fun for him occasionally to play like that. I get off on being used for his own purposes, including this one.
He doesn't do it often, and all I really have to do is check in with him "Am I really in trouble, or is this for fun?" I don't have to silently, in confusion, accept whatever he does to me, I can ask questions and clear things up. This perhaps should have been obvious from the first, but it wasn't.
See other views about this topic at:
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Getting Used to Wednesdays
This was a problem I never anticipated having.
Master is gone mostly during the week, Tuesday to Friday, but he comes home Wednesday night, usually quite late. Last night he came home when the kids were already in bed, about 9:30. He also leaves early, about 7:30 am.
It didn't seem like that should be a problem; it seemed like I could leap into his arms, and then we should be able to spend a nice evening together, the same as every other evening when he's gotten home. It didn't quite come that easily.
During the time I'm anticipating him being home soon I feel so intensely excited, but then when he actually walks in the door I feel somewhat nervous and stand-offish, like I don't know what to do with him or how to act. It takes me a while, just sitting at the table and watching him eat dinner, telling him about my day, before I can get used to the fact that he's right there. I don't know if he's noticed, since I try to be just as attentive as always. I feel how short our time together is going to be, and I fear doing or saying some little thing to mess it up.
Each Wednesday it gets a little less awkward. Last night, he broke through my caution immediately after dinner by grabbing me and throwing me up against the kitchen sink. He yanked down my pants, smacked me and rubbed against me for just a minute before letting me get back to what I'd been doing. In that moment my reserve melted, and the rest of the night everything was clicking just right for us.
He pulled me around by the hair, was mean to me in all the right pussy-dampening ways, and made me miss most of the show he was watching (Breaking Bad on DVD). I didn't care about the show, I only wanted him. I don't know how late we were up, but I got a flogging with the sharpest/stingiest flogger he has, then fucked and used by him in many ways.
Again this morning. I was woken when he ordered a little sucking and a quickie before we got up, then he smacked my face and told me to go make his breakfast.
After his breakfast and shower, I kept him company as he dressed. I was handing him things and helping to pack, until he told me to kneel and kiss his feet, which I did with enthusiasm. He called me names, and though they might sound nasty to other ears, to me they sound like "I love you". I love you too, Master, and am happy to worship at your feet.
Thus, I feel like I'm living a fantasy-life this morning. I know it won't last two days, this dreamy feeling, so I'm enjoying it while I've got it.
Master is gone mostly during the week, Tuesday to Friday, but he comes home Wednesday night, usually quite late. Last night he came home when the kids were already in bed, about 9:30. He also leaves early, about 7:30 am.
It didn't seem like that should be a problem; it seemed like I could leap into his arms, and then we should be able to spend a nice evening together, the same as every other evening when he's gotten home. It didn't quite come that easily.
During the time I'm anticipating him being home soon I feel so intensely excited, but then when he actually walks in the door I feel somewhat nervous and stand-offish, like I don't know what to do with him or how to act. It takes me a while, just sitting at the table and watching him eat dinner, telling him about my day, before I can get used to the fact that he's right there. I don't know if he's noticed, since I try to be just as attentive as always. I feel how short our time together is going to be, and I fear doing or saying some little thing to mess it up.
Each Wednesday it gets a little less awkward. Last night, he broke through my caution immediately after dinner by grabbing me and throwing me up against the kitchen sink. He yanked down my pants, smacked me and rubbed against me for just a minute before letting me get back to what I'd been doing. In that moment my reserve melted, and the rest of the night everything was clicking just right for us.
He pulled me around by the hair, was mean to me in all the right pussy-dampening ways, and made me miss most of the show he was watching (Breaking Bad on DVD). I didn't care about the show, I only wanted him. I don't know how late we were up, but I got a flogging with the sharpest/stingiest flogger he has, then fucked and used by him in many ways.
Again this morning. I was woken when he ordered a little sucking and a quickie before we got up, then he smacked my face and told me to go make his breakfast.
After his breakfast and shower, I kept him company as he dressed. I was handing him things and helping to pack, until he told me to kneel and kiss his feet, which I did with enthusiasm. He called me names, and though they might sound nasty to other ears, to me they sound like "I love you". I love you too, Master, and am happy to worship at your feet.
Thus, I feel like I'm living a fantasy-life this morning. I know it won't last two days, this dreamy feeling, so I'm enjoying it while I've got it.
Sunday, November 10, 2013
Caned
I like caning. I mean I really like caning. Sometimes I'd go so far as to say I love caning, but then he hurts me again, a lot, and I back off the lovey-dovey stuff and say I just really like it. Me and caning, we are just-friends, who live together. Perhaps we are FWB if you count all the times I have orgasmed, or been really close to an orgasm and just waiting for Master's command to cum during a caning.
Last night he flipped my robe up, exactly the same as he had the night before, but this time he had a cane ready and gave me a good sound beating with it. I really needed it. I squirmed, moaned, slicked all over. He had me on all fours at first, then had me lie on my stomach. He told me to roll over and he caned my nipples, which was extra painful even though he didn't to it all that hard. They are sooo sensitive. When I complained that it hurt he struck between my wide open legs. Ahhh, that's a good pain, really good.
Then I was rolled back to lying face down, and he began hitting harder. The more the intensity ramped up the closer I was to coming, and the more my feet squiggled around in the carpet. When I started yelping out, he made me come, giving me the command over and over while griping my cunt in his whole hand and squeezing it. I was soaked.
When he decided I'd had enough, he ordered me into bed; I snuggled down under the covers and went straight to sleep.
We both woke up at 0 dark thirty, and I asked him if it was time to get up.
He said "Not yet. I haven't had a chance to avail myself of the pleasures of your cunt yet".
Who talks like that before coffee/tea? Master, that's who. Anyway, so he did that, then I made pancakes and bacon for him.
Yum! To everything!
Last night he flipped my robe up, exactly the same as he had the night before, but this time he had a cane ready and gave me a good sound beating with it. I really needed it. I squirmed, moaned, slicked all over. He had me on all fours at first, then had me lie on my stomach. He told me to roll over and he caned my nipples, which was extra painful even though he didn't to it all that hard. They are sooo sensitive. When I complained that it hurt he struck between my wide open legs. Ahhh, that's a good pain, really good.
Then I was rolled back to lying face down, and he began hitting harder. The more the intensity ramped up the closer I was to coming, and the more my feet squiggled around in the carpet. When I started yelping out, he made me come, giving me the command over and over while griping my cunt in his whole hand and squeezing it. I was soaked.
When he decided I'd had enough, he ordered me into bed; I snuggled down under the covers and went straight to sleep.
We both woke up at 0 dark thirty, and I asked him if it was time to get up.
He said "Not yet. I haven't had a chance to avail myself of the pleasures of your cunt yet".
Who talks like that before coffee/tea? Master, that's who. Anyway, so he did that, then I made pancakes and bacon for him.
Yum! To everything!
Saturday, November 9, 2013
Spooning
It is so good to have him home again.
In the end last night I didn't wait forever. I spotted some of his ties, clothes hangers and dirty clothes that needed to be taken upstairs and put away so he found me in the bedroom. It was all very cuddly and sweet until he began trying to remove my nipples by tugging on them. Then it got HOT.
But I still had dogs to feed, and the computer had been left on, so back downstairs we went. As I was shutting down the computer, standing bent over, a perfect target, he approached me with a slotted metal spoon.
"He's not going to... hit... me...with that is he? Why else would he have a big metal spoon in his hand?" All this went through my mind quickly.
Whack! Whack! Whack! Whackwhackwhackwhack! Ow, shit, that hurts even through my jeans. One sore ass later, the computer was off and it was time to head upstairs.
I waited again while he brushed his teeth; this time I was prostrate on the floor and wearing my fluffy robe.
He came in, walked around behind me and lifted the back of my robe to expose me. I waited for the impact but nothing happened. I waited some more, again wondering. Then he ordered me to strip and get into bed.
We snuggled briefly while he asked about my week, and about my fears and anxieties which have been very bad some days.
Then he told me he wanted to hear my dirtiest, most disgusting, most embarrassing fantasy. The one I'd never dared to tell him before. But I didn't have one that I'd never told him. So he said I should tell one that he did know, but that I found particularly horrifying. So I did, but there is NO WAY I'm sharing it here.
I love that he accepts all the most hidden inner parts of me this way.
After the fantasy telling, he had me go down under the covers to his cock and worship it. He pulled me back up to his side by my hair and told me he was going to fuck my ass.
"Do you want your ass raped, slave?" he asked.
"Yes Master", I answered with more than a little tremor to my voice.
He got the lube and stuck in one finger, then two fingers. Then three fingers. It all felt so good. Then he started in with his cock and I shrieked and jumped away, flailing behind stupidly with my arms at him.
"Lie. Still. Slave." He was calm and cold now. There are no questions here.
"Lie still and take it."
"Yes, Master" I replied in a tiny voice as I went limp.
This time when he went in, it only hurt for a minute and then I began to feel the massive pleasure waving through my brain, and the rest of my body.
After he was finished we got to the real spooning- cuddly cunt position one- and happy sleep.
In the end last night I didn't wait forever. I spotted some of his ties, clothes hangers and dirty clothes that needed to be taken upstairs and put away so he found me in the bedroom. It was all very cuddly and sweet until he began trying to remove my nipples by tugging on them. Then it got HOT.
But I still had dogs to feed, and the computer had been left on, so back downstairs we went. As I was shutting down the computer, standing bent over, a perfect target, he approached me with a slotted metal spoon.
"He's not going to... hit... me...with that is he? Why else would he have a big metal spoon in his hand?" All this went through my mind quickly.
Whack! Whack! Whack! Whackwhackwhackwhack! Ow, shit, that hurts even through my jeans. One sore ass later, the computer was off and it was time to head upstairs.
I waited again while he brushed his teeth; this time I was prostrate on the floor and wearing my fluffy robe.
He came in, walked around behind me and lifted the back of my robe to expose me. I waited for the impact but nothing happened. I waited some more, again wondering. Then he ordered me to strip and get into bed.
We snuggled briefly while he asked about my week, and about my fears and anxieties which have been very bad some days.
Then he told me he wanted to hear my dirtiest, most disgusting, most embarrassing fantasy. The one I'd never dared to tell him before. But I didn't have one that I'd never told him. So he said I should tell one that he did know, but that I found particularly horrifying. So I did, but there is NO WAY I'm sharing it here.
I love that he accepts all the most hidden inner parts of me this way.
After the fantasy telling, he had me go down under the covers to his cock and worship it. He pulled me back up to his side by my hair and told me he was going to fuck my ass.
"Do you want your ass raped, slave?" he asked.
"Yes Master", I answered with more than a little tremor to my voice.
He got the lube and stuck in one finger, then two fingers. Then three fingers. It all felt so good. Then he started in with his cock and I shrieked and jumped away, flailing behind stupidly with my arms at him.
"Lie. Still. Slave." He was calm and cold now. There are no questions here.
"Lie still and take it."
"Yes, Master" I replied in a tiny voice as I went limp.
This time when he went in, it only hurt for a minute and then I began to feel the massive pleasure waving through my brain, and the rest of my body.
After he was finished we got to the real spooning- cuddly cunt position one- and happy sleep.
Friday, November 8, 2013
Waiting...
Waiting and wondering...
... is he going to come downstairs soon?
...is he going to shove me under the table between his legs, put me to sucking him off?
...is he going to fuck me over the arm of the couch?
...is he going to take me by the hair and pull me upstairs to beat me and fuck me?
...will he tie me up?
...is he going to want more tea first?
Yeah, that's pretty much where I am right now. Waiting and wondering.
... is he going to come downstairs soon?
...is he going to shove me under the table between his legs, put me to sucking him off?
...is he going to fuck me over the arm of the couch?
...is he going to take me by the hair and pull me upstairs to beat me and fuck me?
...will he tie me up?
...is he going to want more tea first?
Yeah, that's pretty much where I am right now. Waiting and wondering.
Thursday, November 7, 2013
A Little Story I Told To Master, which he thought should be written down
Ariel longed to be a real woman, not a monstrous half aquatic creature. She spent her days sitting on a rock with her seashell comb, letting the water lap at her tail, leaving its salt crust on her nethers. She watched the fish play and quietly detested their scaly backs and the fins that resembled her own.
Occasionally she'd catch sight of a boat, and she couldn't help rushing to it and swimming along side, even with the danger of violent men who, when they spotted her, attempted to net or harpoon her every time. They just couldn't leave her alone, thought the half-woman. Did they notice or care that their parts might not match her parts? Not a bit. She was all fish down below. They saw her breasts and lips, her long hair, and they desired her. She desired them as well, but not as a creature. She longed for them as a woman who would go with them and live among them in their houses. (She had no concept of marriage or fidelity). She wondered what it would be like to have sex like a human.
Sitting on her rock, she traced the scar from one of those encounters with a finger. A harpoon had grazed her waist and left a long red line, which gradually healed into a long white line. It hardly made her more cautious. She was young, desperate, invincible.
Every few months Ursula would come around, offering a date, a kiss, a feel, anything at all for the lovely Ariel. Ursula had charms of her own- a beautiful young face, long dark hair, a gracile figure with pert little breasts. Nothing like the Disney version at all. But Ariel had no interest in the hideousness below the waist. Eight tentacles, each more disgusting than the next, substituted for fins or legs. What else lay in that region, Ariel refused to even speculate upon.
Ursula would make her offer, be rebuffed in an unkind manner, and then jet off back to her own business, followed by her lamprey lackeys.
But eventually, her desire for Ariel bred a plan within her devious mind. She would kidnap the minx, and have her way. If Ariel had any sort of brain, she's see how eight tentacles were a vast improvement over what those men carried around with them.
That summer, during a bout of lazy sun basking, Ariel felt something brush her fin. She looked down and saw a pesky crab, which she flicked into the sea. Just then, she felt tentacles crawl across her skin. Inexorable, powerful. There was one around her eyes, blinding her to her captor, and another around her waist. She was dragged off her rock and down under the sea, enduring a painful scraping as she went. She fought back, thrashing (can we say like a fish out of water- no probably not), thrashing like a gut speared sturgeon.
A tentacle began to search for her mouth. She could not imagine anything more disgusting than having that slimy limb invade her. She tasted nothing but salty brine, but somehow more piquant than the ocean water she breathed, as the thing made its way past her lips, then touched the back of her throat to elicit her gag. Ursula's friends, the two lampreys, each latched onto one of Ariel's nipples and dug in their teeth. She cried at the sharp pains, and tried to beg for release, but her mouth was stretched by the tentacle, and she could barely make sounds.
Ursula whispered then in her ear "Submit to me, my love, and I will grant you one wish, for I am a witch."
Ariel could not submit. She didn't have it in her. She only had fight. She used her hands to try to pry the tentacle from her mouth, and then her waist, but it was useless. Ursula was much, much stronger.
Yet another tentacle found its way to her wrist, encircled and held it painfully tight. The other wrist was pinned in the same way.
"Submit", she heard again, low and seductive. Ariel flapped her fin ineffectually.
She felt a reaching and groping toward her one opening down below. Arms pinned, mouth stuffed, breasts in agony, all she could do was wait in terror for what she suspected Ursula was up to now.
As it entered her she felt the suction cups sliding over a sensitive spot and felt the first jolt of pleasure. She tried to block it out, as just too horrible to imagine, getting pleasure from this thing, this rape.
"Submit" she heard again, and this time her body relaxed itself, almost against her will. It was hypnotic, the witch's voice.
"Submit". And she did. The fight left her, her fin hung wretchedly straight down below her and her eyes rolled in her head. The tentacles squeezed and pumped at her. One was around her neck now, stopping her breath. She felt more jolts of pleasure that did not stop until she blacked out.
When she woke up, she felt colder than she ever had in her life. And she felt wet. All over. She was on a beach of sand, thinking she could not remember ever having felt wet before, it had always just been her state, unnoticed. But now she felt distinctly cold and wet. And more than a bit slippery. Especially down... below... between her legs.
Ursula. Her wish. Legs. It all floated through her memory like a long, suckered appendage.
Occasionally she'd catch sight of a boat, and she couldn't help rushing to it and swimming along side, even with the danger of violent men who, when they spotted her, attempted to net or harpoon her every time. They just couldn't leave her alone, thought the half-woman. Did they notice or care that their parts might not match her parts? Not a bit. She was all fish down below. They saw her breasts and lips, her long hair, and they desired her. She desired them as well, but not as a creature. She longed for them as a woman who would go with them and live among them in their houses. (She had no concept of marriage or fidelity). She wondered what it would be like to have sex like a human.
Sitting on her rock, she traced the scar from one of those encounters with a finger. A harpoon had grazed her waist and left a long red line, which gradually healed into a long white line. It hardly made her more cautious. She was young, desperate, invincible.
Every few months Ursula would come around, offering a date, a kiss, a feel, anything at all for the lovely Ariel. Ursula had charms of her own- a beautiful young face, long dark hair, a gracile figure with pert little breasts. Nothing like the Disney version at all. But Ariel had no interest in the hideousness below the waist. Eight tentacles, each more disgusting than the next, substituted for fins or legs. What else lay in that region, Ariel refused to even speculate upon.
Ursula would make her offer, be rebuffed in an unkind manner, and then jet off back to her own business, followed by her lamprey lackeys.
But eventually, her desire for Ariel bred a plan within her devious mind. She would kidnap the minx, and have her way. If Ariel had any sort of brain, she's see how eight tentacles were a vast improvement over what those men carried around with them.
That summer, during a bout of lazy sun basking, Ariel felt something brush her fin. She looked down and saw a pesky crab, which she flicked into the sea. Just then, she felt tentacles crawl across her skin. Inexorable, powerful. There was one around her eyes, blinding her to her captor, and another around her waist. She was dragged off her rock and down under the sea, enduring a painful scraping as she went. She fought back, thrashing (can we say like a fish out of water- no probably not), thrashing like a gut speared sturgeon.
A tentacle began to search for her mouth. She could not imagine anything more disgusting than having that slimy limb invade her. She tasted nothing but salty brine, but somehow more piquant than the ocean water she breathed, as the thing made its way past her lips, then touched the back of her throat to elicit her gag. Ursula's friends, the two lampreys, each latched onto one of Ariel's nipples and dug in their teeth. She cried at the sharp pains, and tried to beg for release, but her mouth was stretched by the tentacle, and she could barely make sounds.
Ursula whispered then in her ear "Submit to me, my love, and I will grant you one wish, for I am a witch."
Ariel could not submit. She didn't have it in her. She only had fight. She used her hands to try to pry the tentacle from her mouth, and then her waist, but it was useless. Ursula was much, much stronger.
Yet another tentacle found its way to her wrist, encircled and held it painfully tight. The other wrist was pinned in the same way.
"Submit", she heard again, low and seductive. Ariel flapped her fin ineffectually.
She felt a reaching and groping toward her one opening down below. Arms pinned, mouth stuffed, breasts in agony, all she could do was wait in terror for what she suspected Ursula was up to now.
As it entered her she felt the suction cups sliding over a sensitive spot and felt the first jolt of pleasure. She tried to block it out, as just too horrible to imagine, getting pleasure from this thing, this rape.
"Submit" she heard again, and this time her body relaxed itself, almost against her will. It was hypnotic, the witch's voice.
"Submit". And she did. The fight left her, her fin hung wretchedly straight down below her and her eyes rolled in her head. The tentacles squeezed and pumped at her. One was around her neck now, stopping her breath. She felt more jolts of pleasure that did not stop until she blacked out.
When she woke up, she felt colder than she ever had in her life. And she felt wet. All over. She was on a beach of sand, thinking she could not remember ever having felt wet before, it had always just been her state, unnoticed. But now she felt distinctly cold and wet. And more than a bit slippery. Especially down... below... between her legs.
Ursula. Her wish. Legs. It all floated through her memory like a long, suckered appendage.
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Gorean Slave Positions: KOTW
All righty, I'm attempting the topic of Gorean slave positions, because it is the Kink of the Week from Kinky and Poly! I know some of my friends are rolling their eyes now, because the reputation of Goreans is perfectly abysmal.
Anyway.... we are not Gorean. I haven't read the books. Master read one and hated it, and told me not to read them, not as an order, just because "They are dumb, you won't like them, don't bother". Sometimes to tease me he calls me a closet Gorean, though.
Way back before I hardly even knew what kinky meant, about 20 years ago (seriously!) some of Master's good friends were Goreans. I knew them, but not nearly as well as he did. Since they were gaming buddies for games I didn't play I rarely hung out with them at all.
I do have several positions! I love them, and it is totally a kink that I really could get into, if Master were more interested.
The one below is kneeling. I understand that Goreans call it nadu, but we just call it kneeling. Sometimes I have my palms up, sometimes palms down. Master doesn't care either way. This is how I wait for him most every night in our bedroom, on the floor, only I'd be wearing the leather collar instead of the gold one. If it is really cold I can wear my fuzzy robe, but he always tells me to strip when he comes in, cold or not.
Sometimes I use this position instead, or alternate back and forth when the wait gets long and I get tired of being in one position. He doesn't have a name for it. I think he still has another (clothed) picture of me in this position on his Fet page, entitled "My perfect woman." He does like this one quite a bit.
.jpg)
This one is called "Ass Whacking Position #1". The arm position is different than the one above, to keep me more stable. I don't know if there is a number 2. Perhaps I will sufficiently advanced to learn it some day. This is the position in which, if I am resting too low on the backs of my calves, he nudges my butt upwards with a toe to the cunt. Sometimes a little harder than necessary, if you know what I mean. It is also good for beating my feet.
"Assume the position" means get standing up, gripping my dresser, slightly bent forward to receive a beating.
There are two other positions that he has named:
Cuddly cunt position # 1 --which most people would call "spooning". With him on his side and me in front of him on my side. He'll sometimes call out "cuddly cunt position #1" when he wants it, or just tell me to roll over if he's feeling informal.
Cuddly cunt position #2-- in which he is on his back and I'm snuggled up on his shoulder with my head. I love this one.
Anyway, those are the positions. He had one more, but he only made me practice it once, and now I have totally forgotten it.
Anyway.... we are not Gorean. I haven't read the books. Master read one and hated it, and told me not to read them, not as an order, just because "They are dumb, you won't like them, don't bother". Sometimes to tease me he calls me a closet Gorean, though.
Way back before I hardly even knew what kinky meant, about 20 years ago (seriously!) some of Master's good friends were Goreans. I knew them, but not nearly as well as he did. Since they were gaming buddies for games I didn't play I rarely hung out with them at all.
I do have several positions! I love them, and it is totally a kink that I really could get into, if Master were more interested.
The one below is kneeling. I understand that Goreans call it nadu, but we just call it kneeling. Sometimes I have my palms up, sometimes palms down. Master doesn't care either way. This is how I wait for him most every night in our bedroom, on the floor, only I'd be wearing the leather collar instead of the gold one. If it is really cold I can wear my fuzzy robe, but he always tells me to strip when he comes in, cold or not.
.jpg)
"Assume the position" means get standing up, gripping my dresser, slightly bent forward to receive a beating.
There are two other positions that he has named:
Cuddly cunt position # 1 --which most people would call "spooning". With him on his side and me in front of him on my side. He'll sometimes call out "cuddly cunt position #1" when he wants it, or just tell me to roll over if he's feeling informal.
Cuddly cunt position #2-- in which he is on his back and I'm snuggled up on his shoulder with my head. I love this one.
Anyway, those are the positions. He had one more, but he only made me practice it once, and now I have totally forgotten it.
Kink at the Convenience Store
We are the most vanilla looking of couples. I don't wear short skirts mostly. He doesn't wear leather. When it's cold, the least bit cold, I wear a hefty down parka, as seen in the movie "Fargo".
Every now and then, our dynamic peeks out anyway.
Yesterday we were looking at houses for sale and stopped along the way at a convenience store for fuel and drinks. I spied the candy on sale as we stood in line and asked Master,
"Can we get candy?"
"No." He said simply at first.
Then he said "Well, I can, but you can't".
I merely ducked my head in reply.
I could see the woman ahead of us in line figuratively swiveling her ears and glancing back, trying to catch how I was going to reply to this.
--------------------------
We saw seven places, spread all over the countryside, and there were two that were definite possibilities, but none that said to Master "Must buy it now!"
Sadly enough, I have totally fallen in love with one of the the houses. It didn't help my objectivity that there was a whip hanging on the bedroom wall and swords decorating the dining room walls (nice swords). But even without that, since the decorations obviously don't come with it, the house was beautiful. Old, big, classy, airy, beautiful, hardwood throughout, big built in china cabinets, incredible sitting room with a bay window, barn, mostly fence pasture already. Master didn't like the kitchen, which was an odd shape. The garage was not really suitable either.
But when one is in love, who cares about little imperfections.
The problem with the kitchen was that there was a wall between the sink and the stove, for starters.
I said, "It's not such a far distance to walk back and forth from sink to stove, even with the wall". It is only a little wall. He said it'll be really inconvenient after about two times.
When we got home and I made dinner he made me walk around the center of our house (one of those central pillar things between dining room and kitchen) every single time I had to go from sink to stove. Which I would say is a tad farther than just around one wall, and was EXTREMELY inconvenient, especially when carrying pots of water or a big cutting board. So I could kind of see his point. But I LOVED that house. I mean, the Master bedroom closet had a window and enough room for a rocking chair, besides all the places to hang clothes. But it was mostly the feel of the place that swayed me. It said "This could be your home. You would be happy here."
Every now and then, our dynamic peeks out anyway.
Yesterday we were looking at houses for sale and stopped along the way at a convenience store for fuel and drinks. I spied the candy on sale as we stood in line and asked Master,
"Can we get candy?"
"No." He said simply at first.
Then he said "Well, I can, but you can't".
I merely ducked my head in reply.
I could see the woman ahead of us in line figuratively swiveling her ears and glancing back, trying to catch how I was going to reply to this.
--------------------------
We saw seven places, spread all over the countryside, and there were two that were definite possibilities, but none that said to Master "Must buy it now!"
Sadly enough, I have totally fallen in love with one of the the houses. It didn't help my objectivity that there was a whip hanging on the bedroom wall and swords decorating the dining room walls (nice swords). But even without that, since the decorations obviously don't come with it, the house was beautiful. Old, big, classy, airy, beautiful, hardwood throughout, big built in china cabinets, incredible sitting room with a bay window, barn, mostly fence pasture already. Master didn't like the kitchen, which was an odd shape. The garage was not really suitable either.
But when one is in love, who cares about little imperfections.
The problem with the kitchen was that there was a wall between the sink and the stove, for starters.
I said, "It's not such a far distance to walk back and forth from sink to stove, even with the wall". It is only a little wall. He said it'll be really inconvenient after about two times.
When we got home and I made dinner he made me walk around the center of our house (one of those central pillar things between dining room and kitchen) every single time I had to go from sink to stove. Which I would say is a tad farther than just around one wall, and was EXTREMELY inconvenient, especially when carrying pots of water or a big cutting board. So I could kind of see his point. But I LOVED that house. I mean, the Master bedroom closet had a window and enough room for a rocking chair, besides all the places to hang clothes. But it was mostly the feel of the place that swayed me. It said "This could be your home. You would be happy here."
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Behind
I don't know how it happened, but I'm way behind (like a whole week) on relating our kinky sexy fun times.
Monday, well, Monday was just a full out awesome time. He now gets that day off, so we planned simply to have play time and then do errands and work on home projects.
Because I made no notes and it was almost a week ago, I forget most of what we did, but I do know that it ended up with ass sex and then a shower of the new type ("Why did I never think of this before?" he says).
It all started when he read this:
Keep Calm and Take a Shower
Before that our showers together had always included at least equal time under the hot water (oh, how I have wished for dual shower heads and never more so than now). I should be more accurate. I was a total hot water hog. I hate being cold in the shower. I like the water super hot and he was indulgent enough to let me stand under it way more than my fair share.
Then he read about how Scott has his showers and he realized we were doing it all wrong (thank you SOOO much, my friend). So now our showers together are very similar to what kaya described, except that he doesn't make me get out and dry him. I get to wash myself (ahhhh, hot water!) after he exits the shower. As cold as it is, it really does do something positive for my head, especially when he makes me kneel with a curt gesture and he warms me up with his very own special "shower". I just frankly love being subjugated, in whatever form, when it comes from him.
Monday, well, Monday was just a full out awesome time. He now gets that day off, so we planned simply to have play time and then do errands and work on home projects.
Because I made no notes and it was almost a week ago, I forget most of what we did, but I do know that it ended up with ass sex and then a shower of the new type ("Why did I never think of this before?" he says).
It all started when he read this:
Keep Calm and Take a Shower
Before that our showers together had always included at least equal time under the hot water (oh, how I have wished for dual shower heads and never more so than now). I should be more accurate. I was a total hot water hog. I hate being cold in the shower. I like the water super hot and he was indulgent enough to let me stand under it way more than my fair share.
Then he read about how Scott has his showers and he realized we were doing it all wrong (thank you SOOO much, my friend). So now our showers together are very similar to what kaya described, except that he doesn't make me get out and dry him. I get to wash myself (ahhhh, hot water!) after he exits the shower. As cold as it is, it really does do something positive for my head, especially when he makes me kneel with a curt gesture and he warms me up with his very own special "shower". I just frankly love being subjugated, in whatever form, when it comes from him.
Kink of the Week: Real Punishment
So, do you have a relationship that has some real punishment/discipline aspect to it?
Yes, our relationship includes punishment for various offenses- like forgetting/not doing chores that were assigned.
If you engage in one, what does that look like, on a day-to-day basis?
He doesn't have a set punishment for each thing I might do wrong, nor is there a system of demerits. I never really know if I do "x", what the punishment will be, or even if there will be one. This actually works in his favor, to keep me from doing things that are against the rules because I do NOT want to find out what the punishment is. The longer I have to wait to find out what it will be, and how severe, the more it tortures me mentally. Depending on how serious, in his view, the infraction was, that is how bad the punishment will be. None of them are physically horrible, but all punishments are mentally because of the feeling of shame I get in disappointing him. In addition to simply beatings, other punishments have included lectures, extra chores, and on one memorable occasion when I complained about having to undress, naked jumping jacks in front of (kinky) friends. Sometimes he has threatened depriving me sexually as a punishment, but he's never actually done that. I think because it would deprive him also.
What is satisfying about a punishment dynamic? What do you and the other half of the equation get from it?
He does not like to punish me. He'd rather beat me for the fun of it, so that we are both having a good time. However, both of us feel that an actual physical punishment helps to underline and reinforce the dynamic, as well as helping me get over any guilt I feel for breaking a rule or forgetting something he told me to do. Even though I don't like the actual punishment, and I don't like being in trouble AT ALL, it serves as a catharsis for me, and allows me to let go of worrying and torturing myself mentally, and to move on to concentrating on not doing it again.
Do you (either from the Top or bottom side) find it hard to adhere to, to follow through on?
I don't find it hard to adhere to at all, but I'm the receiving end. My main responsibility is to tell him when I have messed up, if it is not something he'd notice, or really even if it is I would still have to tell on myself. This is not always easy, but it is far easier and more comfortable than the alternative.
Once in a while he has put off a punishment until the next day because he was too tired, but other than that, it hasn't seemed (from my perspective) that he has much difficulty. Of course, I can't see into his head, but I think if he really found it a chore he just wouldn't do it and he'd find other ways.
Talk to me about your Punishment Dynamic. Or lack of one. Tell me why you do it. Or why not.
It really helps my mentality and mindset to know that he takes this seriously and in our minds punishment is serious business. It helps me keep to my submissive and slaverly path when I know he won't put up with my slacking. Otherwise, honestly, I might just do what I like some days, when I'm feeling particularly lazy. He's not one to punish harshly for things like "lip" or "bad attitude". I don't get punished at all for accidental orgasms. The most I have gotten for saying the wrong thing is a slap, swat or an arched eyebrow look. I don't really call those punishments, more of a quick correction and reminder to be more respectful..
His punishments are mostly for "I told you to do 'x' and you didn't, and that is not acceptable." The first punishment I ever received was when I told him, very early on in the beginning of our dynamic, when I thought I still had some power over what happened (HA!), "No" when he told me to wash the dishes. I just really didn't want to, and well, I guess I wasn't feeling that submissive, so I said "No".
He took me straight away upstairs, put me on my knees and caned me until I was begging to be allowed to wash the dishes. It didn't take long, because of the shocking effect his anger had on me. One thing he said really sticks in my mind from that time. "If you are going to be a slave, you'll do what I say."
Yes, our relationship includes punishment for various offenses- like forgetting/not doing chores that were assigned.
If you engage in one, what does that look like, on a day-to-day basis?
He doesn't have a set punishment for each thing I might do wrong, nor is there a system of demerits. I never really know if I do "x", what the punishment will be, or even if there will be one. This actually works in his favor, to keep me from doing things that are against the rules because I do NOT want to find out what the punishment is. The longer I have to wait to find out what it will be, and how severe, the more it tortures me mentally. Depending on how serious, in his view, the infraction was, that is how bad the punishment will be. None of them are physically horrible, but all punishments are mentally because of the feeling of shame I get in disappointing him. In addition to simply beatings, other punishments have included lectures, extra chores, and on one memorable occasion when I complained about having to undress, naked jumping jacks in front of (kinky) friends. Sometimes he has threatened depriving me sexually as a punishment, but he's never actually done that. I think because it would deprive him also.
What is satisfying about a punishment dynamic? What do you and the other half of the equation get from it?
He does not like to punish me. He'd rather beat me for the fun of it, so that we are both having a good time. However, both of us feel that an actual physical punishment helps to underline and reinforce the dynamic, as well as helping me get over any guilt I feel for breaking a rule or forgetting something he told me to do. Even though I don't like the actual punishment, and I don't like being in trouble AT ALL, it serves as a catharsis for me, and allows me to let go of worrying and torturing myself mentally, and to move on to concentrating on not doing it again.
Do you (either from the Top or bottom side) find it hard to adhere to, to follow through on?
I don't find it hard to adhere to at all, but I'm the receiving end. My main responsibility is to tell him when I have messed up, if it is not something he'd notice, or really even if it is I would still have to tell on myself. This is not always easy, but it is far easier and more comfortable than the alternative.
Once in a while he has put off a punishment until the next day because he was too tired, but other than that, it hasn't seemed (from my perspective) that he has much difficulty. Of course, I can't see into his head, but I think if he really found it a chore he just wouldn't do it and he'd find other ways.
Talk to me about your Punishment Dynamic. Or lack of one. Tell me why you do it. Or why not.
It really helps my mentality and mindset to know that he takes this seriously and in our minds punishment is serious business. It helps me keep to my submissive and slaverly path when I know he won't put up with my slacking. Otherwise, honestly, I might just do what I like some days, when I'm feeling particularly lazy. He's not one to punish harshly for things like "lip" or "bad attitude". I don't get punished at all for accidental orgasms. The most I have gotten for saying the wrong thing is a slap, swat or an arched eyebrow look. I don't really call those punishments, more of a quick correction and reminder to be more respectful..
His punishments are mostly for "I told you to do 'x' and you didn't, and that is not acceptable." The first punishment I ever received was when I told him, very early on in the beginning of our dynamic, when I thought I still had some power over what happened (HA!), "No" when he told me to wash the dishes. I just really didn't want to, and well, I guess I wasn't feeling that submissive, so I said "No".
He took me straight away upstairs, put me on my knees and caned me until I was begging to be allowed to wash the dishes. It didn't take long, because of the shocking effect his anger had on me. One thing he said really sticks in my mind from that time. "If you are going to be a slave, you'll do what I say."
Friday, November 1, 2013
Playing Around With Camera and New Outfit
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