Master got home last night. I served him dinner, and he chatted with the kids about what was going on in their lives.
After he put them to bed, I rubbed his back while he checked out his websites. We went to bed early.
About 2:30 am I woke up. I lay quietly for a while, then when Master got up to use the bathroom I got up to go as well. I checked on the fire, which wasn't going really much at all since he'd put a new log on a few minutes before. I added some paper and sticks and fussed with it for a while, trying to make it go.
He went back to bed. I turned on the computer because I wasn't really sleepy and didn't want to lie in bed awake any more.
He came back down and ordered me back to bed.
"Yes, Master" I replied meekly.
I lay quietly for another unknown amount of time, still not sleepy. Then I felt his hand between my legs. I opened up for him, moaning and arching to him. I wondered if he were just going to tease me and then drift off, or.....?
He made me cum, then pushed my head under the blankets to his cock. I sucked it until he yanked me back up by the back of my robe (yes, I was freezing enough to be sleeping in my bathrobe and he didn't mind).
He pushed me on to my back and fucked me, then rolled me over and had me that way until he came.
It was about 3:30 or 4 then, I think, and I slept really well until his alarm went off at 6. Instead of ordering me to get up and make breakfast as usual, he rolled on top of me and fucked me quickly again. When he ordered me to come I couldn't. I told him I didn't. He gripped my neck, slapped my face and ordered again "COME" and this time I did.
We all have our "O" triggers. O.o
Then I could get up and make his breakfast and tea. After the kid had left for school, Master came and stood next to me as I sat at the kitchen table.
"Suck it" was all he said. I did, simply bending forward from my chair. Is this the approved slavey way? Who knows, but it is the most fast and efficient, which is what he cares about- mouth on cock, stat!
He pulled me out of my chair by the front of my robe and pushed me against the kitchen counter. Bending me forward, lifting my robe, he began fucking me again. Just for a few minutes, then Master pushed me to my knees in front of him.
When he was done he told me to "Carry on" and I got back to my first cup of coffee of the day.
Some days are just really started out right, you know?
Thursday, February 27, 2014
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Meltdown Time
I had a major meltdown yesterday morning while we were playing, that I had to mull over... my
main lesson being that punching him only leads to bruising my hand.
Also, a slave can run, but where ya gonna go when it is 10 degrees and
you're naked?
I need to start back at the beginning I guess.
We started out with a long session of sucking cock. For the first few hours (ok, I may be exaggerating here) it was so good to be between his knees on the floor. He'd allowed me to turn up the heat in the house so we could play without freezing. I was enjoying his hard cock, and pleasing him, and being warm for a change.
Then my lips began to go numb, my legs were aching from kneeling and a cock sucking callous was growing in my mouth. Still, I kept on. He told me to go get him an implement. I brought down the cane and he used it on me as I sucked more. It is difficult to concentrate that way, but I did my best.
He told me to get his foot between my legs and he allowed me to hump on it. This is fairly humiliating, but by then I was so horny I didn't care, I just wanted something, anything, rubbing my cunt. Even his foot.
I begged to cum. He made me wait. And wait. It was agonizing, and even more distracting than the cane, which was still coming down on me at irregular intervals. He chided me a bit for not sucking as well, so I tried harder, sucked harder, tighter. I guess it was good enough, because he told me to cum then. That rocked my world.
After a few more hours (or so) he took me upstairs and fucked me. I started giving him teasing looks and asked playfully if he wanted me to struggle and try to get away. He said if I managed to get away he was going to fuck my ass.
Well.
That caused a dilemma in my mind. Sure, ass sex is fun. But it hurts. But it is fun. But it hurts. I did some minor, not very convincing, struggling. I flipped over on my stomach, which is always a mistake, because that is the easiest way for him to pin my arms behind my back, and I now couldn't even pretend to struggle, merely to wave my feet uselessly. With all his weight pressing down on me, his cock buried deep in my cunt, fucking me, I was truly stuck. He orgasmed. I orgasmed. We rolled apart.
After a while of lying together I asked if I could have a teeny bit more spanking. He thought that would be fun. He got the paddle and a few different canes and began to work over both sides of me.
At one point he had me on my back as he poised the paddle to strike and told me to raise up my legs. I did. He gave the back of my thigh a great smack. I was deep in happy sub land.
He said "That was a stupid thing to do". I was shocked. I had only obeyed him. Isn't that what he wanted?
My brain was flashing "Danger Will Robinson" signs all over the place.
I asked him to explain what he meant. He said it was stupid to raise up my legs and expose my tender thighs when I could see he was all set to hit me. I guess he only meant to humiliate me, the same as when he calls me a dumb cunt while we play, but his words struck into my heart and hurt me bad. My flashing danger signs turned into red anger.
Again, he told me to raise my legs. I said no.
Rational thought left my mind. There was only red anger: fear/humiliation/anger took over and I leaped out of bed and ran.
"FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!" I shouted over and over at him as I bolted. "FUCK THIS SHIT!"
He might have been saying some things too, but I didn't hear them.
I ran down stairs and he chased me. I headed for the back door, then realized it was 10 degrees F out there, and I was totally naked. I tried to hide behind a chair, running around in circles to avoid him. He caught me anyway, grabbed me, and held me as I fought like a rabid badger against him, still shouting at him. That is when I punched him and hurt my hand. I also stomped down hard on his foot once. Then I tried to do it again to make him let go of me, but he merely moved his feet out of my way and held on.
He pushed me up against the couch to pin me. I realized with shock what I was doing. What I had done. The fight went out of me as suddenly as it had come in. I went limp and collapsed on the floor.
I cried, groveled, sniveling out abject apologies for what I had done. There was no excuse. I was hyperventilating and he was telling me to breathe. When I could do that he led me back up to bed.
We talked about what was going on in my crazy brain, why I had flipped out. He was sorry that I had taken his words the way I did. He does demand obedience. Always. Even when he uses it to hurt me more. He doesn't think I am stupid. I'm not sure I agree with him there, after this episode.
He wasn't going to punish me for this because he knew I was just hurting. I explained how I had taken his words as a direct stab into the heart of my slavery, my self. He explained that he only meant to humiliate me a little.
Forgive, not forget.
But there was still the matter of catharsis. Paying for sins.
He had me roll over on my stomach. He began beating me methodically. For a long time. It got harder and harder. He shattered one cane. He used another. Then the paddle, which made me sob and squeak and cry all the harder. I just can't take that damn paddle.
I was alternately flying and crying. Then he took a leather strap, doubled over, and I could see out of the corner of my eye, it was coming down hard across my butt and thighs. His arm was swinging down at full strength but I don't know that I could feel it much. I had a "This is going to really hurt later" feeling. And it did.
And then much later, after it was all done, after I got the piss beat out of me, in the cold, cold shower, misted only by the cold overspray as he enjoyed the hot water, I knelt willingly and happily at his feet:
"Does that taste sweet to you?"
"No."
"Oh good, I'm not getting diabetic."
Now, all my anger and fear and confusion gone, I'm left only with a profound gratitude to this man who is my Master, who will come after and catch me and hold me when I'm freaking out. He will come for me. He will keep me. He will make me obey. No matter what.
I need to start back at the beginning I guess.
We started out with a long session of sucking cock. For the first few hours (ok, I may be exaggerating here) it was so good to be between his knees on the floor. He'd allowed me to turn up the heat in the house so we could play without freezing. I was enjoying his hard cock, and pleasing him, and being warm for a change.
Then my lips began to go numb, my legs were aching from kneeling and a cock sucking callous was growing in my mouth. Still, I kept on. He told me to go get him an implement. I brought down the cane and he used it on me as I sucked more. It is difficult to concentrate that way, but I did my best.
He told me to get his foot between my legs and he allowed me to hump on it. This is fairly humiliating, but by then I was so horny I didn't care, I just wanted something, anything, rubbing my cunt. Even his foot.
I begged to cum. He made me wait. And wait. It was agonizing, and even more distracting than the cane, which was still coming down on me at irregular intervals. He chided me a bit for not sucking as well, so I tried harder, sucked harder, tighter. I guess it was good enough, because he told me to cum then. That rocked my world.
After a few more hours (or so) he took me upstairs and fucked me. I started giving him teasing looks and asked playfully if he wanted me to struggle and try to get away. He said if I managed to get away he was going to fuck my ass.
Well.
That caused a dilemma in my mind. Sure, ass sex is fun. But it hurts. But it is fun. But it hurts. I did some minor, not very convincing, struggling. I flipped over on my stomach, which is always a mistake, because that is the easiest way for him to pin my arms behind my back, and I now couldn't even pretend to struggle, merely to wave my feet uselessly. With all his weight pressing down on me, his cock buried deep in my cunt, fucking me, I was truly stuck. He orgasmed. I orgasmed. We rolled apart.
After a while of lying together I asked if I could have a teeny bit more spanking. He thought that would be fun. He got the paddle and a few different canes and began to work over both sides of me.
At one point he had me on my back as he poised the paddle to strike and told me to raise up my legs. I did. He gave the back of my thigh a great smack. I was deep in happy sub land.
He said "That was a stupid thing to do". I was shocked. I had only obeyed him. Isn't that what he wanted?
My brain was flashing "Danger Will Robinson" signs all over the place.
I asked him to explain what he meant. He said it was stupid to raise up my legs and expose my tender thighs when I could see he was all set to hit me. I guess he only meant to humiliate me, the same as when he calls me a dumb cunt while we play, but his words struck into my heart and hurt me bad. My flashing danger signs turned into red anger.
Again, he told me to raise my legs. I said no.
Rational thought left my mind. There was only red anger: fear/humiliation/anger took over and I leaped out of bed and ran.
"FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!" I shouted over and over at him as I bolted. "FUCK THIS SHIT!"
He might have been saying some things too, but I didn't hear them.
I ran down stairs and he chased me. I headed for the back door, then realized it was 10 degrees F out there, and I was totally naked. I tried to hide behind a chair, running around in circles to avoid him. He caught me anyway, grabbed me, and held me as I fought like a rabid badger against him, still shouting at him. That is when I punched him and hurt my hand. I also stomped down hard on his foot once. Then I tried to do it again to make him let go of me, but he merely moved his feet out of my way and held on.
He pushed me up against the couch to pin me. I realized with shock what I was doing. What I had done. The fight went out of me as suddenly as it had come in. I went limp and collapsed on the floor.
I cried, groveled, sniveling out abject apologies for what I had done. There was no excuse. I was hyperventilating and he was telling me to breathe. When I could do that he led me back up to bed.
We talked about what was going on in my crazy brain, why I had flipped out. He was sorry that I had taken his words the way I did. He does demand obedience. Always. Even when he uses it to hurt me more. He doesn't think I am stupid. I'm not sure I agree with him there, after this episode.
He wasn't going to punish me for this because he knew I was just hurting. I explained how I had taken his words as a direct stab into the heart of my slavery, my self. He explained that he only meant to humiliate me a little.
Forgive, not forget.
But there was still the matter of catharsis. Paying for sins.
He had me roll over on my stomach. He began beating me methodically. For a long time. It got harder and harder. He shattered one cane. He used another. Then the paddle, which made me sob and squeak and cry all the harder. I just can't take that damn paddle.
I was alternately flying and crying. Then he took a leather strap, doubled over, and I could see out of the corner of my eye, it was coming down hard across my butt and thighs. His arm was swinging down at full strength but I don't know that I could feel it much. I had a "This is going to really hurt later" feeling. And it did.
And then much later, after it was all done, after I got the piss beat out of me, in the cold, cold shower, misted only by the cold overspray as he enjoyed the hot water, I knelt willingly and happily at his feet:
"Does that taste sweet to you?"
"No."
"Oh good, I'm not getting diabetic."
Now, all my anger and fear and confusion gone, I'm left only with a profound gratitude to this man who is my Master, who will come after and catch me and hold me when I'm freaking out. He will come for me. He will keep me. He will make me obey. No matter what.
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Fun Night Out
Master and I had a wonderful night out with some friends. It pains me some to not be able to give any details, but maybe not as much as it teases you, the readers!
We sent the kids to a sitter, and just had oodles of fun! I had a couple drinks, but not enough to have any bad after effects. I do love a Black Russian though- Kahlua and vodka.
Also, I have rug burned knees :).
We sent the kids to a sitter, and just had oodles of fun! I had a couple drinks, but not enough to have any bad after effects. I do love a Black Russian though- Kahlua and vodka.
Also, I have rug burned knees :).
Friday, February 21, 2014
Apologizing to a ewe
We were talking about humility today in one of my groups on Fet.
There is nothing like the universe, and farming, to keep one humble.
I went out today, after all the blowing and drifting of snow overnight, to check my sheep. First though, to get to the barn, I had to shovel out the path again which had blown in with snow to a depth up to mid-thigh on me. That is a lot of drifting.
Then I discovered the barn door was frozen shut in a block of ice.
So I struggled back down the path which was only somewhat passable, got the crow bar from the garage and chipped out the ice. When I could open the door, I took the water buckets up to the house, filling them with some little difficulty from the spigot on the house which is nearly buried in snow piles. This trek is because the water pump in the barn is frozen, or busted, or something. I can't get it to work any more.
I lugged my buckets (5 gallon and 2 gallon) back down the shaky, sinking path, twisting and wrenching my sore knee over and over.
I opened the door to the sheep stall and found that all three of the new lambs were cold, dead and stiff. They had been doing well yesterday. I'd given them supplemental bottles of milk to make sure they kept up strength. But they were dead and I don't know why.
I got a sack and began to dispose of them. The distraught ewe baa'd and nuzzled at her little ones. Her breath warmed my face as I bent over. Sheep don't know much, but they do know when you are taking their babies. I apologized to her as I picked up the first.
"I'm sorry, girl, I don't know. I know it hurts, I'm sorry".
And for the second.
And for the third.
She followed the sack out into the barn aisle and stood over it and baa'd again, calling for them to come to her.
I fed all the sheep; the ewe went to her grain back in her stall, hungry as usual.
When I was done feeding I got on my knees in the hay. I prayed for forgiveness for anything that I could have done and didn't.
I prayed for peace for the mother ewe and for myself.
You may think that farmers are hardened, but I guarantee to you, they are not. They are some of the softest people I know. They are so soft that if they let expressions like this out frequently they might simply melt corporeally away, so they learn to hide it.
There is nothing like the universe, and farming, to keep one humble.
I went out today, after all the blowing and drifting of snow overnight, to check my sheep. First though, to get to the barn, I had to shovel out the path again which had blown in with snow to a depth up to mid-thigh on me. That is a lot of drifting.
Then I discovered the barn door was frozen shut in a block of ice.
So I struggled back down the path which was only somewhat passable, got the crow bar from the garage and chipped out the ice. When I could open the door, I took the water buckets up to the house, filling them with some little difficulty from the spigot on the house which is nearly buried in snow piles. This trek is because the water pump in the barn is frozen, or busted, or something. I can't get it to work any more.
I lugged my buckets (5 gallon and 2 gallon) back down the shaky, sinking path, twisting and wrenching my sore knee over and over.
I opened the door to the sheep stall and found that all three of the new lambs were cold, dead and stiff. They had been doing well yesterday. I'd given them supplemental bottles of milk to make sure they kept up strength. But they were dead and I don't know why.
I got a sack and began to dispose of them. The distraught ewe baa'd and nuzzled at her little ones. Her breath warmed my face as I bent over. Sheep don't know much, but they do know when you are taking their babies. I apologized to her as I picked up the first.
"I'm sorry, girl, I don't know. I know it hurts, I'm sorry".
And for the second.
And for the third.
She followed the sack out into the barn aisle and stood over it and baa'd again, calling for them to come to her.
I fed all the sheep; the ewe went to her grain back in her stall, hungry as usual.
When I was done feeding I got on my knees in the hay. I prayed for forgiveness for anything that I could have done and didn't.
I prayed for peace for the mother ewe and for myself.
You may think that farmers are hardened, but I guarantee to you, they are not. They are some of the softest people I know. They are so soft that if they let expressions like this out frequently they might simply melt corporeally away, so they learn to hide it.
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A Catch Up Blog
Nothing at all interesting going on here!
Actually a lot of things have happened this week, I just haven't felt like posting about it. Here is a quick recap:
Monday we had a terrible day. We were both grumpy, at least up until we went to parent/teacher conferences. Then it seemed like we were back to normal. You can read it here- Monday.
Tuesday Master's car hit a slick spot and he went off the road (again!). It was a little dented but he's ok. He had to get towed out. He didn't come home again though, because the weather reports were so bad, so I haven't seen him. Every time he drives I get scared for him.
Our first lambs were born on Wednesday, triplets. I gave them a bottle of colostrum, just as a booster.
Wednesday night Master and I talked some on the computer. We wrote haikus together. It was fun, though I miss him terribly.
This is one of them:
Shivering, standing
She's bound with leash and collar
Yellow snow, cold slave
Thursday the ice dams on the roof were getting out of control, and it was going to rain, so when I talked to Master he said I should get up on the ladder and break the dams with a hammer. Watching out not to damage the shingles. So I dragged the heavy ladder over there, and beat on the ice for about an hour, making some headway. My arms were wet noodles and I was soaked with dampness from the outside and the sweat.
I had a bit of a coffee break and then went back to work.
Another half hour with the hammer, and some hot water to melt the last bits, and finally done. There was still hay to move and lambs to take care of.
Tonight he gets home again, and then the weekend! We may go out Saturday night with some friends. That is his plan, anyway, but between weather and kids and babysitters who knows. Crossing my fingers!
Actually a lot of things have happened this week, I just haven't felt like posting about it. Here is a quick recap:
Monday we had a terrible day. We were both grumpy, at least up until we went to parent/teacher conferences. Then it seemed like we were back to normal. You can read it here- Monday.
Tuesday Master's car hit a slick spot and he went off the road (again!). It was a little dented but he's ok. He had to get towed out. He didn't come home again though, because the weather reports were so bad, so I haven't seen him. Every time he drives I get scared for him.
Our first lambs were born on Wednesday, triplets. I gave them a bottle of colostrum, just as a booster.
Wednesday night Master and I talked some on the computer. We wrote haikus together. It was fun, though I miss him terribly.
This is one of them:
Shivering, standing
She's bound with leash and collar
Yellow snow, cold slave
Thursday the ice dams on the roof were getting out of control, and it was going to rain, so when I talked to Master he said I should get up on the ladder and break the dams with a hammer. Watching out not to damage the shingles. So I dragged the heavy ladder over there, and beat on the ice for about an hour, making some headway. My arms were wet noodles and I was soaked with dampness from the outside and the sweat.
I had a bit of a coffee break and then went back to work.
Another half hour with the hammer, and some hot water to melt the last bits, and finally done. There was still hay to move and lambs to take care of.
Tonight he gets home again, and then the weekend! We may go out Saturday night with some friends. That is his plan, anyway, but between weather and kids and babysitters who knows. Crossing my fingers!
The Damn Snow Shovel
I wrote this on Monday, but somehow never got it posted here.
------------------------
The dang old snow shovel. Just a snow shovel.
I didn't cry when it snowed 7 inches and we had to shovel it off the loonnnnggg driveway.
I didn't cry when the mail was lost (important mail) and Master was totally frustrated about that. Especially that I wasn't looking for it with much enthusiasm.
I didn't cry after I asked if I could take a shower, he said yes, and 5 minutes later he burst into the bathroom saying "What are you doing??"
"Taking a shower".
"There is water pouring into the basement!!"
I didn't cry when he yelled ( at the Dr) about the prescription that I'd been trying to get since last week. Which I thought also must be my fault, though he didn't blame me.
I didn't cry when we had to go out in the car, and got stuck in the end of the driveway. Or when Master had a minor fit about that. Or when I had a fit about not taking the kids with us to the conferences. I should have submitted. He was right, I was just surprised and in a bad mood and I protested "But....but... but.." I argued. He got mad.
I didn't cry when I didn't get lunch and grabbed an energy bar for the road before helping to shovel out the end of the driveway.
I didn't cry when none of the roads had been plowed and it was white knuckle time the whole way into town (10 miles).
I didn't cry when we nearly got stuck at several intersections and parking lots.
I didn't cry when my lack of lunch made me feel sick.
I didn't cry when the car got stuck in the driveway AGAIN.
I didn't cry when there was still more shoveling to do, dinner to make, dishes to wash, and the fire had gone out, and it was 55 degrees in the house, so I started it up again.
I had shoveled as much as I could. I set my shovel down; it was about 8 at night. I went to check on the chicken and ducks to see if there was an egg (no), and feed them. When I came back, my shovel was gone. I searched the snow bank a little to see if it had fallen down. Nope. I yelled into the darkness "Hello? Hello? Anyone there?" in case Master had taken it down to the end of the driveway. No answer. I took the other shovel and dug out the whole bank. I searched the other nearby banks in case I forgot where I put it. It was gone. The stupid shovel was gone. How the fuck was I going to explain this?
Then I sat down on the porch steps, and cried, and cried, and cried. The dogs helpfully shook snow down the back of my coat trying to comfort me.
Just the damn stupid shovel.
------------------------
The dang old snow shovel. Just a snow shovel.
I didn't cry when it snowed 7 inches and we had to shovel it off the loonnnnggg driveway.
I didn't cry when the mail was lost (important mail) and Master was totally frustrated about that. Especially that I wasn't looking for it with much enthusiasm.
I didn't cry after I asked if I could take a shower, he said yes, and 5 minutes later he burst into the bathroom saying "What are you doing??"
"Taking a shower".
"There is water pouring into the basement!!"
I didn't cry when he yelled ( at the Dr) about the prescription that I'd been trying to get since last week. Which I thought also must be my fault, though he didn't blame me.
I didn't cry when we had to go out in the car, and got stuck in the end of the driveway. Or when Master had a minor fit about that. Or when I had a fit about not taking the kids with us to the conferences. I should have submitted. He was right, I was just surprised and in a bad mood and I protested "But....but... but.." I argued. He got mad.
I didn't cry when I didn't get lunch and grabbed an energy bar for the road before helping to shovel out the end of the driveway.
I didn't cry when none of the roads had been plowed and it was white knuckle time the whole way into town (10 miles).
I didn't cry when we nearly got stuck at several intersections and parking lots.
I didn't cry when my lack of lunch made me feel sick.
I didn't cry when the car got stuck in the driveway AGAIN.
I didn't cry when there was still more shoveling to do, dinner to make, dishes to wash, and the fire had gone out, and it was 55 degrees in the house, so I started it up again.
I had shoveled as much as I could. I set my shovel down; it was about 8 at night. I went to check on the chicken and ducks to see if there was an egg (no), and feed them. When I came back, my shovel was gone. I searched the snow bank a little to see if it had fallen down. Nope. I yelled into the darkness "Hello? Hello? Anyone there?" in case Master had taken it down to the end of the driveway. No answer. I took the other shovel and dug out the whole bank. I searched the other nearby banks in case I forgot where I put it. It was gone. The stupid shovel was gone. How the fuck was I going to explain this?
Then I sat down on the porch steps, and cried, and cried, and cried. The dogs helpfully shook snow down the back of my coat trying to comfort me.
Just the damn stupid shovel.
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
Trying Again
The main point I was trying to make yesterday was not that self control is domming yourself. I guess I didn't state clearly enough that it would not be satisfying to me, or to most people who have a desire to be a submissive or slave.
Self control is not the point for me, it is the interaction with him, the connection, the feeling of being controlled BY HIM that makes me content to be his slave.
I was trying to say that the relationship will take both M and s working at it, otherwise, it is going to fall down or be be ultimately unsatisfying. That doesn't mean the Master has to dominate exactly how the s-type wants. That situation would put him out of the control seat. He (or she) will do it their own way. Perhaps he (I'm going to skip the she- please take it as implied if that is your dynamic- it goes for both) prefers a laid back macromanagement style rather than being on top of every little thing. He gets to decide if there is going to be punishment or not. But doing it his own way still means doing something.
The question I think in kaya's mind is "What if he's not?" Then what? What if she has talked to him,and said explicitly "I'm not feeling controlled. You don't seem to care. What you are doing is not working for me" and his response is something along the lines of "Suck it up, slave, I think things are going fine." Does she rebel? Does she say "Stuff it up your ass, Mr."? If she can't do those things, actually can't, because the programing to be a slave is too strongly ingrained, well, to me that pretty much says she actually is being controlled, maybe not the way she wants, but definitely the way HE wants.
Please correct me if I'm reading this wrong or applying it too personally.
Self control is not the point for me, it is the interaction with him, the connection, the feeling of being controlled BY HIM that makes me content to be his slave.
I was trying to say that the relationship will take both M and s working at it, otherwise, it is going to fall down or be be ultimately unsatisfying. That doesn't mean the Master has to dominate exactly how the s-type wants. That situation would put him out of the control seat. He (or she) will do it their own way. Perhaps he (I'm going to skip the she- please take it as implied if that is your dynamic- it goes for both) prefers a laid back macromanagement style rather than being on top of every little thing. He gets to decide if there is going to be punishment or not. But doing it his own way still means doing something.
The question I think in kaya's mind is "What if he's not?" Then what? What if she has talked to him,and said explicitly "I'm not feeling controlled. You don't seem to care. What you are doing is not working for me" and his response is something along the lines of "Suck it up, slave, I think things are going fine." Does she rebel? Does she say "Stuff it up your ass, Mr."? If she can't do those things, actually can't, because the programing to be a slave is too strongly ingrained, well, to me that pretty much says she actually is being controlled, maybe not the way she wants, but definitely the way HE wants.
Please correct me if I'm reading this wrong or applying it too personally.
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Dominating Yourself
Kaya's blog gave me the inspiration to write about this topic, since my own day today has been uninteresting. It is not exactly a response to her writing, but more a journey through my own experiences.
Can one dominate oneself? I guess it depends on what exactly that means. In a flip, glib way, I could say that if I'm craving a piece of cake, but there is no rule against cake, and I can resist temptation and not eat it, I could say I'm "domming myself" or mastering my impulses. Really it is just the self control that most of us have. I have less than most. If there is cake, I eat it. Heh. But I do have it sometimes. I did not get interested in being a slave or sub to have my self control enhanced. That didn't enter my mind at all, which is a good thing, I guess, because that only occasionally appears on my Master's radar as something he's interested in doing.
This is not the sort of dominating (self domming) that lead me to want submission and slavery. There is nothing interesting at all about not eating cake because it's not good for me. Boring. Boring. Boring. I'd rather have cake.
It is all about the interaction between the two of us.
Relationships take two people to work. In a M/s relationship, one has to dominate and the other submit. If the dominant doesn't do anything, doesn't take control, merely floats along 'whee dee dee', well, they are just not doing their part.
The dominant has to step up to the plate, in my opinion, or it just isn't going to work as a D/s or M/s relationship.
The same for the other side. I will not to divest the s-type of responsibility. If the slave or sub isn't submitting, isn't obeying, well, they are not doing their part. It takes two.
Exactly HOW all this plays out in a relationship varies as much as people are different from each other. Early on in our relationship I thought this would be a huge problem for me. If he wasn't yanking me by the hair every other minute, hitting me and forcing me to do things, I felt a lack of being dominated. Then I saw that I was just wanting titillation at all times. More experienced slaves were always saying these same things to other newbies, that it is not about your wet bits. It is about being the slave that he wants.
I don't feel I am domming myself if I get off my comfy chair and make him breakfast before he has to speak sternly to me. And he's sure not going to physically correct me in front of the kids. I feel like I'm being the slave he wants, even if I'm not in the mood. I'm pleasing him instead of myself.
He enjoys the more direct physical/mental acts of domination, and I need them, but I only need a little bit of patience to receive those on his schedule instead of mine. As soon as I start thinking "I don't NEED such and such...I can get along just fine without...", he'll do it again and I'll remember "Oh, fucking yes, how I do need that."
But I don't get to call the shots, and weird as it may sound, sometimes that is hard to accept.
"Don't you want to be controlled, to not make the decisions?" I hear myself asking inside my head.
Well, sure. Sometimes. Other times I need it more than I want it.
Can one dominate oneself? I guess it depends on what exactly that means. In a flip, glib way, I could say that if I'm craving a piece of cake, but there is no rule against cake, and I can resist temptation and not eat it, I could say I'm "domming myself" or mastering my impulses. Really it is just the self control that most of us have. I have less than most. If there is cake, I eat it. Heh. But I do have it sometimes. I did not get interested in being a slave or sub to have my self control enhanced. That didn't enter my mind at all, which is a good thing, I guess, because that only occasionally appears on my Master's radar as something he's interested in doing.
This is not the sort of dominating (self domming) that lead me to want submission and slavery. There is nothing interesting at all about not eating cake because it's not good for me. Boring. Boring. Boring. I'd rather have cake.
It is all about the interaction between the two of us.
Relationships take two people to work. In a M/s relationship, one has to dominate and the other submit. If the dominant doesn't do anything, doesn't take control, merely floats along 'whee dee dee', well, they are just not doing their part.
The dominant has to step up to the plate, in my opinion, or it just isn't going to work as a D/s or M/s relationship.
The same for the other side. I will not to divest the s-type of responsibility. If the slave or sub isn't submitting, isn't obeying, well, they are not doing their part. It takes two.
Exactly HOW all this plays out in a relationship varies as much as people are different from each other. Early on in our relationship I thought this would be a huge problem for me. If he wasn't yanking me by the hair every other minute, hitting me and forcing me to do things, I felt a lack of being dominated. Then I saw that I was just wanting titillation at all times. More experienced slaves were always saying these same things to other newbies, that it is not about your wet bits. It is about being the slave that he wants.
I don't feel I am domming myself if I get off my comfy chair and make him breakfast before he has to speak sternly to me. And he's sure not going to physically correct me in front of the kids. I feel like I'm being the slave he wants, even if I'm not in the mood. I'm pleasing him instead of myself.
He enjoys the more direct physical/mental acts of domination, and I need them, but I only need a little bit of patience to receive those on his schedule instead of mine. As soon as I start thinking "I don't NEED such and such...I can get along just fine without...", he'll do it again and I'll remember "Oh, fucking yes, how I do need that."
But I don't get to call the shots, and weird as it may sound, sometimes that is hard to accept.
"Don't you want to be controlled, to not make the decisions?" I hear myself asking inside my head.
Well, sure. Sometimes. Other times I need it more than I want it.
Sunday, February 16, 2014
It is useless to be a resistor
The dry winter air in the house gives us static shocks practically every time we touch. Master has been taking great delight in working up some extra static and then zapping me with his finger. On my nose. On my lips. On my nipple.
He was about to get dressed this morning when I came up to the bedroom. He got that wicked glint again and started rubbing rapidly up and down on my arms, which were covered by fuzzy bathrobe. Then he said "Suck", so I knelt and as I touched his cock with my lips it gave both of us a hefty jolt. He laughed.
"Didn't that get you too?" I asked.
"Yeah, but it was worth it".
Seriously. If anyone had told me this was what slaving was about...
He was about to get dressed this morning when I came up to the bedroom. He got that wicked glint again and started rubbing rapidly up and down on my arms, which were covered by fuzzy bathrobe. Then he said "Suck", so I knelt and as I touched his cock with my lips it gave both of us a hefty jolt. He laughed.
"Didn't that get you too?" I asked.
"Yeah, but it was worth it".
Seriously. If anyone had told me this was what slaving was about...
Saturday, February 15, 2014
Valentine's Day with Master
He got home early and unexpectedly yesterday. I was just going down the driveway to get the mail and bring back the garbage can when his car pulled in. He wasn't feeling good so they sent him home.
First thing, I just had to give him the Valentine's present that I bought for him so long ago I couldn't even remember where I hid it. As I searched for it he tried to guess what it was going to be.
Then from the bottom of my dresser I pulled out this:
Technically it is a
strigil.
But he got an immediate wicked gleam in his eye.
I could tell my present was a success.
He tried out a few experimental whacks on my butt, then I lowered my skirt, and assorted other layers, to try it on bare skin.
A few more whacks, then he told me he needed some tea and toast and was going to lie down for a bit. After getting those things, I sat at his feet and played on the computer while he rested on the couch.
So that was what I figured would be pretty much our Valentine evening. For a while we cuddled in bed, but only cuddled. Perhaps we napped some too.
Later on, after watching a few episodes of Mad Men, and it being very late at night, he said he wanted to give me a spanking but there would be no sex. I waited in the bedroom until he came in.
He gave me a few swats with the strigil as I crouched on the floor, then he told me to stand and strip. And spread my legs. More swatting of breasts and thighs and cunt.
He had me lie down and gave me a thorough and hard work over with the implement, until I was quietly (and delicately, no snotting at all, really... and if you believe that....) sobbing to myself.
Then he was on top of me, behind me, fucking me. He rolled me over onto my back, pinned one of my hands and slapped me, called me horrible things, made me come, slapping my face again.
He said it was just so hot beating me he couldn't resist, even not feeling so well.
Happy Fucking Valentines to me after all :).
First thing, I just had to give him the Valentine's present that I bought for him so long ago I couldn't even remember where I hid it. As I searched for it he tried to guess what it was going to be.
Then from the bottom of my dresser I pulled out this:
Technically it is a
strigil.
But he got an immediate wicked gleam in his eye.
I could tell my present was a success.
He tried out a few experimental whacks on my butt, then I lowered my skirt, and assorted other layers, to try it on bare skin.
A few more whacks, then he told me he needed some tea and toast and was going to lie down for a bit. After getting those things, I sat at his feet and played on the computer while he rested on the couch.
So that was what I figured would be pretty much our Valentine evening. For a while we cuddled in bed, but only cuddled. Perhaps we napped some too.
Later on, after watching a few episodes of Mad Men, and it being very late at night, he said he wanted to give me a spanking but there would be no sex. I waited in the bedroom until he came in.
He gave me a few swats with the strigil as I crouched on the floor, then he told me to stand and strip. And spread my legs. More swatting of breasts and thighs and cunt.
He had me lie down and gave me a thorough and hard work over with the implement, until I was quietly (and delicately, no snotting at all, really... and if you believe that....) sobbing to myself.
Then he was on top of me, behind me, fucking me. He rolled me over onto my back, pinned one of my hands and slapped me, called me horrible things, made me come, slapping my face again.
He said it was just so hot beating me he couldn't resist, even not feeling so well.
Happy Fucking Valentines to me after all :).
Friday, February 14, 2014
Thursday, February 13, 2014
Service and Scones
We were supposed to go over to Mystique's tonight, me and the kids, and she expressed a desire for some of my homemade scones.
This immediately kicked my good spirits up again. I have purpose! I serve! I make scones! I made them, then looked at the weather- still snowing. We chatted and she thought since the roads were worrying me I ought to stay home.
I never used to be this service oriented, but something has changed, obviously. I got all dressed up, with nowhere to go, but at least I can take the scones over tomorrow. It better not be snowing then so we can go to the gym.
Also, here is that scone recipe I promised:
Heat oven to 400.
2 c flour
1/3 c sugar
1tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
8 Tbsp butter
1/2 c sour cream
1 egg
1 tsp lemon zest
cinnamon sugar
Mix the flour, sugar, salt, soda, b. powder. Cut the butter in well with a pastry blender.
Add sour cream and egg. Stir and form into a ball. You may need to add a dash of water to make it ball up.
Roll out to a 7-8" circle, about 3/4 " thick. Sprinkle with cinnamon sugar and cut into wedges like a pie. At first I was doing 8 wedges, but decided I liked more smaller ones, so I do 12 now.
Bake on a cookie sheet for 17 minutes.
They are also really good with blueberries on top if you have them.
This immediately kicked my good spirits up again. I have purpose! I serve! I make scones! I made them, then looked at the weather- still snowing. We chatted and she thought since the roads were worrying me I ought to stay home.
I never used to be this service oriented, but something has changed, obviously. I got all dressed up, with nowhere to go, but at least I can take the scones over tomorrow. It better not be snowing then so we can go to the gym.
Also, here is that scone recipe I promised:
Heat oven to 400.
2 c flour
1/3 c sugar
1tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
8 Tbsp butter
1/2 c sour cream
1 egg
1 tsp lemon zest
cinnamon sugar
Mix the flour, sugar, salt, soda, b. powder. Cut the butter in well with a pastry blender.
Add sour cream and egg. Stir and form into a ball. You may need to add a dash of water to make it ball up.
Roll out to a 7-8" circle, about 3/4 " thick. Sprinkle with cinnamon sugar and cut into wedges like a pie. At first I was doing 8 wedges, but decided I liked more smaller ones, so I do 12 now.
Bake on a cookie sheet for 17 minutes.
They are also really good with blueberries on top if you have them.
A Blank
I feel like my mind is a blank today. Like I have been placed "on hold" for two days until Master gets home. I have a giant inertia sitting on my head.
I was supposed to meet Mystique at the gym today to work out, as we did yesterday and the day before, but it was snowing hard and I cancelled due to the roads probably being bad.
Instead, I did 40 minutes of yoga in the kitchen, which was good and relaxing, but hasn't done anything to improve the blankness in my mind.
Because the cost of propane has gone up outrageously, Master borrowed a space heater and ordered me to turn down the heat in the house. So the kitchen where I am with the heater is semi-warm and the rest of the house is freezing.
I did some cleaning and some laundry, but overall just feeling very blank and uninterested in life.
Both the house showings we had this week went badly- they hated our house. Which on one hand is good because I don't want to sell the house and move, but on the other, I take it personally- "You hate my house, I hate you." Ok, I admit it is old and has problems, but that is its charm. Some people wouldn't know character if it bit them on the butt.
I was supposed to meet Mystique at the gym today to work out, as we did yesterday and the day before, but it was snowing hard and I cancelled due to the roads probably being bad.
Instead, I did 40 minutes of yoga in the kitchen, which was good and relaxing, but hasn't done anything to improve the blankness in my mind.
Because the cost of propane has gone up outrageously, Master borrowed a space heater and ordered me to turn down the heat in the house. So the kitchen where I am with the heater is semi-warm and the rest of the house is freezing.
I did some cleaning and some laundry, but overall just feeling very blank and uninterested in life.
Both the house showings we had this week went badly- they hated our house. Which on one hand is good because I don't want to sell the house and move, but on the other, I take it personally- "You hate my house, I hate you." Ok, I admit it is old and has problems, but that is its charm. Some people wouldn't know character if it bit them on the butt.
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
Where did I leave off?
Oh yes, right after breakfast.
He tied up my boobies extra tightly with the rope; he flicked and smacked them most painfully.
We threw some blankets down and he pushed me over the arm of the couch and fucked me again. A pause for some caning. More fucking. A pause for a hefty use of the leather paddle. More fucking. Then he wanted to play Zombies and Blowjob again.
As seen HERE.
Sometimes he had me switch positions and lie at his feet, legs spread, fingers holding my pussy open for him. Just so he could glance down and see if he wanted. Then go back to sucking. I tell you, there are few things that make me feel my position as slave more than this.
He finally quit the game and fucked me again, this time on the floor, telling me humiliating things and smacking my face. I cried. He liked it. I loved it. Or hated it. Or something.
Then he put me back over the couch arm, beating my ass some more. More fucking, more slapping. Many orgasms.
He took me upstairs, fucked me and let me use the vibrator. He put his hand over my mouth and nose and wouldn't let me breathe. When I finally was allowed to to take a breath he told me to cum. Oh, so intense, those oxygen deprived orgasms. So good.
Then he told me to tie him up again and suck him to completion.
I was just getting his leg tied to the bed when he began hitting me and telling me "Think you can tie up your Master? I will teach you".
Eeek, so hawt and scary.
He shoved a finger in my ass. A little lube, the anal beads. He entered my cunt and then, doing my ass and cunt at the same time this way, he came.
A little cuddling, then off to shower (and get peed and spit on) and out for lunch with our friends, including Mystique.
He tied up my boobies extra tightly with the rope; he flicked and smacked them most painfully.
We threw some blankets down and he pushed me over the arm of the couch and fucked me again. A pause for some caning. More fucking. A pause for a hefty use of the leather paddle. More fucking. Then he wanted to play Zombies and Blowjob again.
As seen HERE.
Sometimes he had me switch positions and lie at his feet, legs spread, fingers holding my pussy open for him. Just so he could glance down and see if he wanted. Then go back to sucking. I tell you, there are few things that make me feel my position as slave more than this.
He finally quit the game and fucked me again, this time on the floor, telling me humiliating things and smacking my face. I cried. He liked it. I loved it. Or hated it. Or something.
Then he put me back over the couch arm, beating my ass some more. More fucking, more slapping. Many orgasms.
He took me upstairs, fucked me and let me use the vibrator. He put his hand over my mouth and nose and wouldn't let me breathe. When I finally was allowed to to take a breath he told me to cum. Oh, so intense, those oxygen deprived orgasms. So good.
Then he told me to tie him up again and suck him to completion.
I was just getting his leg tied to the bed when he began hitting me and telling me "Think you can tie up your Master? I will teach you".
Eeek, so hawt and scary.
He shoved a finger in my ass. A little lube, the anal beads. He entered my cunt and then, doing my ass and cunt at the same time this way, he came.
A little cuddling, then off to shower (and get peed and spit on) and out for lunch with our friends, including Mystique.
Monday, February 10, 2014
New way to eat breakfast
All told, today was fan-fucking-tastic. He gave me a heavy dose of humiliation (for me, anyway, it was heavy), which I get off on, even if I don't always love it in the moment.
It started out yesterday when he told me to wash out one of the dog bowls for my breakfast today. I washed it three times, sniffing it to make sure all the doggy odor was gone, then washed it again and set it in the drainer. He had mentioned once that he might add a little something "extra" to the food. Or it might have dog kibble in it.
The whole idea was making me nervous, excited and tingly. I half hoped he'd forget all about it, but on the other hand I knew if he did I'd be all disappointed. If I could just have one emotion at a time, please!
Every time I walked by the sink all day long, all I could see was that bowl sitting there. I would kind of peep at it out of the corner of my eye and my tummy would do a little flip.
Later that night I told Master that it was making me tingly thinking about what he was planning to do to me.
"Yeah, that is because you are a freak." he said casually, and gestured at me. A simple gesture. Trained. Ingrained. Representing choking me. And I came, squirted right through my pants.
"Now I'm going to have to go change!!" I complained.
"Yeah." he said, grinning broadly at me.
Then I got my flirty face on. Wiggling eyebrows.
"Want to come help me change, Master?"
"No."
------------
And, No, he did not forget. As soon as we were alone this morning he snapped a leash to my collar and flipped my breakfast into the dog bowl. He sat down at the kitchen table, starting to eat the breakfast burrito I had made for him. He pointed to the dish at his feet.
I knelt.
It wasn't all that easy at all to reach my mouth to the bottom of the bowl and get anything in it. It took me a long time to get any food in me, and when I wasn't eating fast enough he'd shove my head further down into the bowl. I was about half done when he knelt behind me and began fucking me (doggie style, eh!). I stopped eating to concentrate on that, but he pushed my head down again and said "You can eat and fuck at the same time". The food didn't really taste of anything but humiliation now.
And that was just the warm up. The humiliation that made me cry was for later. I probably won't say anything more about that, so I'll leave it to your imaginings.
Oh, and fish tank magnets were the fun discovery of the day. They make interesting nipple clamps. It didn't hurt too much until he told me I had to shimmy them enough to make them fall off. Let me just say- Ow.
Like I said, fan-fucking-tastic day! There was a lot more, but it is my bed time now.
Learning moment
I had another little learning moment this morning. Since he expects transparency, in our own way, telling him I didn't like something he did after we are all done is perfectly fine, and in fact it is required. What I say during is often to wild and random to be taken seriously. Especially when it starts with fu..
For afterward, in reflection, a simple
"I didn't like when you did ____" is useful information to him.
Even if he just chooses to use it to torment me in the future.
However, harping on it after that, even if I use different words (I hate it/It's boring/Are you sure you really like me at all?) is most distinctly just complaining and is not allowed.
sigh.
For afterward, in reflection, a simple
"I didn't like when you did ____" is useful information to him.
Even if he just chooses to use it to torment me in the future.
However, harping on it after that, even if I use different words (I hate it/It's boring/Are you sure you really like me at all?) is most distinctly just complaining and is not allowed.
sigh.
Sunday, February 9, 2014
Well GOOD morning, Master!
I woke up this morning and lay quietly until Master woke. He used the bathroom, then asked me if I had to go.
"No, I don't need to," I said.
"You should go anyway". Well, ok then.
I made my way to the bathroom and back, grinning because I thought I knew what he wanted.
"Get me some clothespins, slave".
Ok...this is different. I found the bag with the clothespins and brought a few to him.
He had me kneel on the bed next to him. He was still lying down. He placed four clothespins on my pussy lips. He played with them. It didn't hurt much. Just enough really.
I sucked on his cock for a while as he continued to play with the clothespins, flicking them this way and that, pulling and tugging them. The pain was slowly building.
Then he told me to lie on my back. I did this, ever so carefully and gingerly, then he pulled my legs down hard toward the foot of the bed. I thought he was going to take off the clothespins now but he just thrust in and fucked me anyway with them still attached. Oh. My. God. The pain was delicious. Then he took them off, one by one, telling me to "CUM" each time, and I exploded as the pain rushed in even more.
There was some breath play
("Do you like to breathe, slave? ... Too bad")
and more fucking, and orgasms. Then when he was all done he spanked me with the little wood paddle.
I love it when we're all cuddled up and he says "You know what I want now, slave"?
"No, Master"
"Scones, bitch".
I made lemon cinnamon scones for breakfast.
"No, I don't need to," I said.
"You should go anyway". Well, ok then.
I made my way to the bathroom and back, grinning because I thought I knew what he wanted.
"Get me some clothespins, slave".
Ok...this is different. I found the bag with the clothespins and brought a few to him.
He had me kneel on the bed next to him. He was still lying down. He placed four clothespins on my pussy lips. He played with them. It didn't hurt much. Just enough really.
I sucked on his cock for a while as he continued to play with the clothespins, flicking them this way and that, pulling and tugging them. The pain was slowly building.
Then he told me to lie on my back. I did this, ever so carefully and gingerly, then he pulled my legs down hard toward the foot of the bed. I thought he was going to take off the clothespins now but he just thrust in and fucked me anyway with them still attached. Oh. My. God. The pain was delicious. Then he took them off, one by one, telling me to "CUM" each time, and I exploded as the pain rushed in even more.
There was some breath play
("Do you like to breathe, slave? ... Too bad")
and more fucking, and orgasms. Then when he was all done he spanked me with the little wood paddle.
I love it when we're all cuddled up and he says "You know what I want now, slave"?
"No, Master"
"Scones, bitch".
I made lemon cinnamon scones for breakfast.
Saturday, February 8, 2014
Slave Revolt
Last night I tied Master up.
What, what?
It wasn't actually a revolt, in fact he ordered me to do it. And because he knew I would find it weird and upside down and backwards, after he told me what he wanted me to do, he said I was to think of myself as no more than a toy that he could use for his pleasure, only tonight his pleasure would be to be tied up and teased, to put off his orgasm as long as possible. He'd already had me sucking his cock for a long time, and fucking me just a little bit bent over the table, and had paddled me with the cutting board, so he was really close to coming anyway. It might be hard for me to tease him without making him come.
I was really getting into the preparations. While he was in the bathroom I laid out a towel, a tie down strap, a blindfold and my vibrator. No canes! No paddles!
When he came back I was prostrate on the floor as usual. He ordered me to strip, then he caned me. He pushed me to my knees, where I sucked him as he caned me in a particularly painful way.
Then he said "Ok, I want you to tease me and make it last, as much as you can." He didn't exactly say I could do whatever I wanted but what the heck, he'd be tied up.
How bad could the revenge be?
Once he was tied and blindfolded I began by sucking his cock, then taking it into my cunt. Each time he got close to coming I'd back off and tease him by rubbing him with my breasts, or sitting on his chest and giving myself an orgasm with the vibrator. Or sitting on his face. When he asked if I were coming without permission I simply laughed "Yes, Master" and then bit him, which he hates. I'm not allowed to bite. Heh. But he was tied up.
Then he started "ordering" me to untie him, and I laughed some more and bit his inner thighs. Those didn't sound like real orders to me. He said he was going to get loose and really beat me up for being such a rebellious slave. Then I bit him again.
Oh, such a wicked thing I am.
I rode him until he just couldn't take it anymore, then he ordered me to untie him for real. There was no doubt about that being a real order, and he shoved my mouth over his cock and came hugely down my throat.
He then grabbed a paddle from the nightstand and told me to roll over. He used it (HARD) on me until all the rebellious feelings had completely vanished and I was once again his pliable servant.
This was my reward for pleasing him.
What, what?
It wasn't actually a revolt, in fact he ordered me to do it. And because he knew I would find it weird and upside down and backwards, after he told me what he wanted me to do, he said I was to think of myself as no more than a toy that he could use for his pleasure, only tonight his pleasure would be to be tied up and teased, to put off his orgasm as long as possible. He'd already had me sucking his cock for a long time, and fucking me just a little bit bent over the table, and had paddled me with the cutting board, so he was really close to coming anyway. It might be hard for me to tease him without making him come.
I was really getting into the preparations. While he was in the bathroom I laid out a towel, a tie down strap, a blindfold and my vibrator. No canes! No paddles!
When he came back I was prostrate on the floor as usual. He ordered me to strip, then he caned me. He pushed me to my knees, where I sucked him as he caned me in a particularly painful way.
Then he said "Ok, I want you to tease me and make it last, as much as you can." He didn't exactly say I could do whatever I wanted but what the heck, he'd be tied up.
How bad could the revenge be?
Once he was tied and blindfolded I began by sucking his cock, then taking it into my cunt. Each time he got close to coming I'd back off and tease him by rubbing him with my breasts, or sitting on his chest and giving myself an orgasm with the vibrator. Or sitting on his face. When he asked if I were coming without permission I simply laughed "Yes, Master" and then bit him, which he hates. I'm not allowed to bite. Heh. But he was tied up.
Then he started "ordering" me to untie him, and I laughed some more and bit his inner thighs. Those didn't sound like real orders to me. He said he was going to get loose and really beat me up for being such a rebellious slave. Then I bit him again.
Oh, such a wicked thing I am.
I rode him until he just couldn't take it anymore, then he ordered me to untie him for real. There was no doubt about that being a real order, and he shoved my mouth over his cock and came hugely down my throat.
He then grabbed a paddle from the nightstand and told me to roll over. He used it (HARD) on me until all the rebellious feelings had completely vanished and I was once again his pliable servant.
This was my reward for pleasing him.
Friday, February 7, 2014
Reflection of Him?
With his permission, of course, sharing our conversation, that I had while messaging with him today:
Me: Do you think my behavior is a reflection of you?
Master: I mold your behavior, and shape it to my will, so in a sense, yes it is. I make you what I want, so yes, but that does not make you just a reflection or a poor image. You can't shape a pug to be a border collie.
Me: With all this round and round (on Fetlife) I got all mixed up from where I started, and wasn't sure what you thought about it.
Master: You are already what I wanted, and I only make minor changes. I don't change who you are, but only minor facets of you. I have never made you do something absolutely against your principles or beliefs, to my knowledge.
Me: So, up to a point, yes, but not in every particular?
Master: Exactly. Little things. Tweaks.
But if you weren't who you already were, I wouldn't have found you interesting and attractive. I don't want to remake you.
Just make minor adjustments.
Me: If I started going around in pubic calling people names (who didn't deserve it) you'd rein me in. But that is not really me, anyway, it is hard to imagine. But say I got drunk and started picking up random cups and drinking them, you'd drag me away from it.
Maybe next time not let me get so drunk.
Master: I have, in fact, done both in the past.
Me: Because I didn't behave.
Master: Yes, exactly. But if you got tipsy at a munch, stripped and danced naked, I might let that pass.
Me: You'd be egging me on!
Master: I thought you were getting a little too obnoxious in some of your postings on FL, and I found that unattractive, so I limit your snarkiness. I don't want to eliminate it, just limit it to real idiots. Plus, you were agonizing about it too much.
Before, during, and after. So I stepped in. Not everything has to be a fight or a debate. Sometimes the best answer is to ignore.
Me: True. Sometimes I need to step away and take some calming breaths
Master: The Japanese have a word for this.
Me: What is it?
Master: Mokusatsu
then of course I had to go look that up myself.
Me: Do you think my behavior is a reflection of you?
Master: I mold your behavior, and shape it to my will, so in a sense, yes it is. I make you what I want, so yes, but that does not make you just a reflection or a poor image. You can't shape a pug to be a border collie.
Me: With all this round and round (on Fetlife) I got all mixed up from where I started, and wasn't sure what you thought about it.
Master: You are already what I wanted, and I only make minor changes. I don't change who you are, but only minor facets of you. I have never made you do something absolutely against your principles or beliefs, to my knowledge.
Me: So, up to a point, yes, but not in every particular?
Master: Exactly. Little things. Tweaks.
But if you weren't who you already were, I wouldn't have found you interesting and attractive. I don't want to remake you.
Just make minor adjustments.
Me: If I started going around in pubic calling people names (who didn't deserve it) you'd rein me in. But that is not really me, anyway, it is hard to imagine. But say I got drunk and started picking up random cups and drinking them, you'd drag me away from it.
Maybe next time not let me get so drunk.
Master: I have, in fact, done both in the past.
Me: Because I didn't behave.
Master: Yes, exactly. But if you got tipsy at a munch, stripped and danced naked, I might let that pass.
Me: You'd be egging me on!
Master: I thought you were getting a little too obnoxious in some of your postings on FL, and I found that unattractive, so I limit your snarkiness. I don't want to eliminate it, just limit it to real idiots. Plus, you were agonizing about it too much.
Before, during, and after. So I stepped in. Not everything has to be a fight or a debate. Sometimes the best answer is to ignore.
Me: True. Sometimes I need to step away and take some calming breaths
Master: The Japanese have a word for this.
Me: What is it?
Master: Mokusatsu
then of course I had to go look that up myself.
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
A cold shower and hot piss
Monday, Master and I finally had a day to ourselves, alone, dedicated simply to being together. How wonderful it is to just BE together. First, of course, there were children to take to school, and errands to run, but he was back pretty quickly. I'd taken care of the breakfast dishes and the dogs, and was sitting at the laptop in the kitchen when he came in.
I asked if there were anything he wanted.
He said "Go upstairs, put on something sexy, your other collar and bring me my slippers". I zipped off to do that, putting on a see through nightie that I haven't had a chance to wear for a while.
He ravaged me unmercifully for over two hours, perhaps three.
I enjoyed getting on my knees, sucking his cock, then he put me over his lap and spanked me with the wooden paddle. He tied my arms into a rope harness. More sucking, more spanking, then he had me sit in his lap and we fucked face to face. He talked to me about what he'd like to do with me, and with other girls, maybe tie me to a chair and make me watch (why does this idea always make me so hot!). More sucking, more spanking, more fucking... and on and on until I was a puddle of a girl. Ahhhh, so sweet, this life.
We snuggled on the couch, my head in his lap, until I could walk again. He got in the shower first, telling me to hurry up, he couldn't wait much longer. I was trying to undo the rope harness he'd left on as fast as I could. I stepped in and knelt in front of him. His cock was hard with its readiness to be relieved. I looked down as his nearly clear hot piss covered me. When he was done I looked up at him. He told me he was marking me as his property this way. I just smiled, Yes Master, I'm yours.
"Now wash me". I took the soap and washed him, standing or kneeling in turns on the cold side of the shower where the warm water doesn't reach. He got out and I washed myself- the hot water stinging the places on my backside where his cane and paddle had left ouchie spots.
It was really good having that time with each other.
Now he's gone again and I woke up this morning imagining I was touching his hair, imagining I was resting my head on his chest, just at that pillow spot by his shoulder, imagining him telling me to roll over so he could cuddle me the way he likes best. Imagining so vividly that I could almost feel it. He'll be back tonight, its only about 12 or 13 hours now.
My anxiety about having him gone has definitely lessened over the past few months, but the missing him never does.
I asked if there were anything he wanted.
He said "Go upstairs, put on something sexy, your other collar and bring me my slippers". I zipped off to do that, putting on a see through nightie that I haven't had a chance to wear for a while.
He ravaged me unmercifully for over two hours, perhaps three.
I enjoyed getting on my knees, sucking his cock, then he put me over his lap and spanked me with the wooden paddle. He tied my arms into a rope harness. More sucking, more spanking, then he had me sit in his lap and we fucked face to face. He talked to me about what he'd like to do with me, and with other girls, maybe tie me to a chair and make me watch (why does this idea always make me so hot!). More sucking, more spanking, more fucking... and on and on until I was a puddle of a girl. Ahhhh, so sweet, this life.
We snuggled on the couch, my head in his lap, until I could walk again. He got in the shower first, telling me to hurry up, he couldn't wait much longer. I was trying to undo the rope harness he'd left on as fast as I could. I stepped in and knelt in front of him. His cock was hard with its readiness to be relieved. I looked down as his nearly clear hot piss covered me. When he was done I looked up at him. He told me he was marking me as his property this way. I just smiled, Yes Master, I'm yours.
"Now wash me". I took the soap and washed him, standing or kneeling in turns on the cold side of the shower where the warm water doesn't reach. He got out and I washed myself- the hot water stinging the places on my backside where his cane and paddle had left ouchie spots.
It was really good having that time with each other.
Now he's gone again and I woke up this morning imagining I was touching his hair, imagining I was resting my head on his chest, just at that pillow spot by his shoulder, imagining him telling me to roll over so he could cuddle me the way he likes best. Imagining so vividly that I could almost feel it. He'll be back tonight, its only about 12 or 13 hours now.
My anxiety about having him gone has definitely lessened over the past few months, but the missing him never does.
Monday, February 3, 2014
Zombies and blowjob
Last night we played a game called "Blowjob and Zombies".
I know, it doesn't sound very fun, and you know what? It isn't. However, my participation was not optional, so I gave Master an attempt at a blow job while he tried to kill zombies on the xbox.
It turned out that it wasn't good for his game, or really for the blowjob either. He kept bonking my head out of the way with his game controller.
Finally he gave that up in favor of watching porn instead. Though I had a very sore mouth by the time he orgasmed, this was better than the first part since I enjoy pleasing him more than being bonked in the head with a controller.
Yes, slavery is all glamorous like this, if you are lucky, and anyone who tells you otherwise probably also knows what they are talking about.
After he was done he said he intended to give me a proper beating. I stripped down, put my collar on and knelt for him, but he wanted me standing first for flogging. I love this part. It's relaxing, warming up, and just pleasant. Slightly stingy, but mostly pleasant.
He did my breasts as well, which is more painful than relaxing. He next had me lie flat on the floor and he caned me for long and hard enough to put me well into subspace. Eventually I got into this weird place where I wanted it much harder than what he was doing but I couldn't ask for it. I wanted to ask, respectfully, for harder, but couldn't get the words out. So instead I started rolling away from him, closing up my legs so he couldn't reach the insides of my thighs or cunt, where he had been aiming. He asked me what I was doing, did I want to say something? I said "Just hit me" or something like that, I'm not really sure. He began slapping my face, hard, as I lay on my back on the floor, then he rolled me over for some really hard thwacks with the cane.
When he told me to stand up and get in bed I was very wobbly, but I made it there. He pulled down the blankets and and used the wood paddle to drive me further and harder. He made me come over and over in between the hard smacks. I know they were hard because I have bruises, but at the time I felt mostly erotic pleasure from it.
I know, it doesn't sound very fun, and you know what? It isn't. However, my participation was not optional, so I gave Master an attempt at a blow job while he tried to kill zombies on the xbox.
It turned out that it wasn't good for his game, or really for the blowjob either. He kept bonking my head out of the way with his game controller.
Finally he gave that up in favor of watching porn instead. Though I had a very sore mouth by the time he orgasmed, this was better than the first part since I enjoy pleasing him more than being bonked in the head with a controller.
Yes, slavery is all glamorous like this, if you are lucky, and anyone who tells you otherwise probably also knows what they are talking about.
After he was done he said he intended to give me a proper beating. I stripped down, put my collar on and knelt for him, but he wanted me standing first for flogging. I love this part. It's relaxing, warming up, and just pleasant. Slightly stingy, but mostly pleasant.
He did my breasts as well, which is more painful than relaxing. He next had me lie flat on the floor and he caned me for long and hard enough to put me well into subspace. Eventually I got into this weird place where I wanted it much harder than what he was doing but I couldn't ask for it. I wanted to ask, respectfully, for harder, but couldn't get the words out. So instead I started rolling away from him, closing up my legs so he couldn't reach the insides of my thighs or cunt, where he had been aiming. He asked me what I was doing, did I want to say something? I said "Just hit me" or something like that, I'm not really sure. He began slapping my face, hard, as I lay on my back on the floor, then he rolled me over for some really hard thwacks with the cane.
When he told me to stand up and get in bed I was very wobbly, but I made it there. He pulled down the blankets and and used the wood paddle to drive me further and harder. He made me come over and over in between the hard smacks. I know they were hard because I have bruises, but at the time I felt mostly erotic pleasure from it.
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Munch/Demo/Play time! Now, with more whipping!
"Lose the skirt".
I had already taken off my red silk blouse so I was just wearing my sparkly corset and a knee length black skirt, also tall black boots.
Master had been demonstrating some flogging on me for some new people in our local group. They had never seen, much less experienced, flogging and kept asking me "Doesn't that hurt?"
I'd reply variously with "No, I barely feel it", or "No, it feels wonderful", depending on how hard Master was doing it. He wasn't even coming close to hurting me.
He let a couple of the guys try the floggers on me, after I'd removed my skirt. They also asked things like "Are you sure this is ok with her?" and Master would say,
"She has no choice, she's my slave. Besides, she totally gets off on being used".
Which is true. Also, I love/hate the humiliation of him saying things like that about me to people. I'm sometimes amazed at how well Master and I match in this area.
When the demo/practice was done, I noticed a friend we have known for a few years was showing how to use a single tail, just cracking in the air, and I leaned into Master's ear and asked if I couldn't please let that friend do me with it?
He said yes, then he led me over there and told the guy that I would like to be his target if he wanted one. I think I was grinning like a maniac. At least it felt that way to me. I bent over in position and the whip cracked loudly on either side of me. I knew he was ranging it in so I shook my head, and kept shaking it until I could feel the whip on my skin, not just on my clothes. Then I nodded to let him know I could feel.
He switched from the kangaroo braided single tail to an even stingy-er dragon tail. I didn't get a good look at it, but it definitely hurt more.
It gradually grew harder and harder until my hands were clenching reflexively and my feet were shifting about with the pain. When he asked if it was too much I just kept shaking my head... it was really good. I have a lot of nice red stripes too!
After that, Master and another new-ish person flogged me again. I had a blast, and Master really enjoyed giving people new experiences, because they'd never had the chance to do something like that before.
The speaker topic of the day was mainly safety, but also touched on consent, and while most of what he said was that there should be mutual enjoyment, negotiations and consent at each step, I was impressed that our speaker made clear that that was for play, but he also touched on M/s where such things may not apply anymore because of how the relationship is structured.
Yes, that is us. Mutual enjoyment is a bonus, not a requirement for me. Master's enjoyment, that is what I'll be about.
I had already taken off my red silk blouse so I was just wearing my sparkly corset and a knee length black skirt, also tall black boots.
Master had been demonstrating some flogging on me for some new people in our local group. They had never seen, much less experienced, flogging and kept asking me "Doesn't that hurt?"
I'd reply variously with "No, I barely feel it", or "No, it feels wonderful", depending on how hard Master was doing it. He wasn't even coming close to hurting me.
He let a couple of the guys try the floggers on me, after I'd removed my skirt. They also asked things like "Are you sure this is ok with her?" and Master would say,
"She has no choice, she's my slave. Besides, she totally gets off on being used".
Which is true. Also, I love/hate the humiliation of him saying things like that about me to people. I'm sometimes amazed at how well Master and I match in this area.
When the demo/practice was done, I noticed a friend we have known for a few years was showing how to use a single tail, just cracking in the air, and I leaned into Master's ear and asked if I couldn't please let that friend do me with it?
He said yes, then he led me over there and told the guy that I would like to be his target if he wanted one. I think I was grinning like a maniac. At least it felt that way to me. I bent over in position and the whip cracked loudly on either side of me. I knew he was ranging it in so I shook my head, and kept shaking it until I could feel the whip on my skin, not just on my clothes. Then I nodded to let him know I could feel.
He switched from the kangaroo braided single tail to an even stingy-er dragon tail. I didn't get a good look at it, but it definitely hurt more.
It gradually grew harder and harder until my hands were clenching reflexively and my feet were shifting about with the pain. When he asked if it was too much I just kept shaking my head... it was really good. I have a lot of nice red stripes too!
After that, Master and another new-ish person flogged me again. I had a blast, and Master really enjoyed giving people new experiences, because they'd never had the chance to do something like that before.
The speaker topic of the day was mainly safety, but also touched on consent, and while most of what he said was that there should be mutual enjoyment, negotiations and consent at each step, I was impressed that our speaker made clear that that was for play, but he also touched on M/s where such things may not apply anymore because of how the relationship is structured.
Yes, that is us. Mutual enjoyment is a bonus, not a requirement for me. Master's enjoyment, that is what I'll be about.
Saturday, February 1, 2014
Our Songs
Unlike some couples, we've never had "our song". But when I asked him, this is the one he picked to represent our relationship, which I think is just the sweetest!
Lady in Red
And then here is one I would pick for us, in addition:
Could I have this dance
It is all about the dance, no?
Lady in Red
And then here is one I would pick for us, in addition:
Could I have this dance
It is all about the dance, no?
All Right Again
Master has taken every opportunity (such as we have had, between him being gone for work and then having kids to catch up with when gets home- you know they miss him possibly as much as I do) to talk to me about Monday night and to emphasize that I'm his. I'm his property, to use and to own as he wishes. He makes sure that I know I did nothing to disappoint him at all, that he was not only satisfied with my submission, but that my little bit of resistance and giving in to him despite that reluctance made it all the more exciting and hot for him. Not that I should make resisting him a regular habit! But I should know that my wants don't play a role in what he wants to do with me, and he WILL have me, resisting or not.
I feel utterly owned, submitted, surrendered, helpless before him, possibly even more than I did before, which I didn't think was possible.
Coming so far, yet having so far to go still.
----------------
Today is our local munch day, and Master and I are temporarily in charge of it, (for the first time ever!) while Myst is off to a big event. I'm excited to go and see people, but not so much to be in charge of anything. I think Master will do that, though I have been doing some of the organizing.
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