Sunday, August 31, 2014

Hiking

Saturday we went to the woods. 

We were looking for blackberries, but it turned out they aren't ready yet and we didn't find anything to pick.  We did find lots of raspberry brambles, which scratched us up pretty well, reaching across the paths as they were.  

The kids and a dog went with us, and we hiked through maybe a mile of barely-trail before reaching a field with an actual trail which eventually led to a road.  Now, we could have gone back the way we came, through the brambles and all, but the road was sounding pretty good compared to that.  We didn't know just WHICH road it was until we'd walked far enough to find an intersection with a sign on it.   The cross road was the one we were looking for, and looking at the sun told us the direction, so we walked for another good ways before we found a gathering of people.   The electric company was working on a line, and 5-6 people and a couple dogs had gathered around to watch and chat, as one does in the country.   Any excuse for a gathering, especially on a holiday weekend.   

  The lady across the street let the kids get a drink from her houses outside spigot, we chatted some and she said had seen our van and told us it was just up around the bend now.    We meandered on, up a hill, round a bend and down a bit, and there was the trusty minivan waiting for us.  

The walk ended up being a good hour and a half.   The dog managed to bring home half a forest's worth of burrs in her fur.

Also, today was the first day since Tryst that I dared to wear a tank top in public.  There are still scars on my back and arms, and one faint bruise, but no one asked or stared.  I figured they look more like bug bites (or raspberry bramble scratches) than anything more suspicious by now.   

Master loves me

Last night we watched a show, then Master went to check emails and read my blog and a few other things he does on the computer.  
I was standing behind him, and I asked if I could touch my cunt.  

"Come and sit here" he said, pointing to the floor by his chair.  
"Yes, you can play with your cunt".   I did, as he twisted and pinched and tortured my tits.

Then after getting all the before bed stuff done with the dogs etc., we went upstairs.  He flogged and spanked me into subspacing out.  In that state of mind I made up this song for him when he left the room for a few minutes.

 I sang it at breakfast:


Master loves me! This I know,
For his flogging tells me so;
Little slave to Him belongs;
I am weak, but He is strong.

Yes, Master loves me
Yes, Master loves me
Yes, Master loves me

For his flogging tells me so.


A little bit after breakfast we had a discussion about the way to make lemonade, and how to start it, what to put in first.

I commented that Master's way of making lemonade usually starts with "Bitch...".

Heh.  It would be a joke except that it's true.


Saturday, August 30, 2014

I Never Get Tired of This

I'm on my knees, my forehead to the floor and arms stretched overhead.  Master comes in and tells me how he loves seeing me like that.  He doesn't get tired of it either. 

  He takes up the large hickory stick that was propped in a corner.  It is probably inch and a half diameter, carved by him in a spiral pattern.  He begins thumping it on my ass, my back, and my sides.   He doesn't do it hard.  This a bone breaking stick if it were swung at full speed.  It is lovely and thuddy, except when he strikes directly between my open legs, then it is painful enough.  It takes all my concentration to keep my legs open anyway, never knowing when the next hit will fall there or how hard it will be.

He steps on the back of my neck, pressing my face down into the carpet.  I relax into my flatness and submission.

Then he tells me to face him, roll over, and he puts his foot on my neck again, pressing into the leather collar.   The pressure is bearable, but fear inducing.  I am very much mindful of how very much I am at his mercy. 

Then the fucking, the orgasms, all the pleasures.

In the morning I am up early, having coffee and playing on the computer.  Master comes down later.  I meet him in the kitchen to finish his tea making and cook breakfast.  He takes hold of my hair and pulls my head back, kissing me roughly, hurting me, telling me I need a harder beating soon, reminding me I am his little slavegirl, his cunt and his hole.  

I never get tired of this.  

Friday, August 29, 2014

Health Issue

For anyone who has been wondering how my stomach ache issue resolved, it hasn't.  I haven't been writing about it (because boring!) but I've been in to the doctor many more times for tests and they haven't found much.  I'm taking iron for the anemia since they didn't find a cause for that either (I suspect heavy periods/blood loss from that, but what do I know).  I feel a lot better now that my iron is up, but I can't eat much without suffering.  So NO dairy, NO meat except turkey or chicken, NO butter, NO fat except a tiny bit of olive oil to cook vegetables.  As long as stick to that I do pretty well, but I really miss bacon, and pie, and sausage... and the list goes on. 

 Today I'm drinking barium for breakfast (bleah) and then having a CT scan.  This sounds like the last step before they do surgery to remove my gall bladder, which is actually functioning, but on the "low-normal" side.  

Thursday, August 28, 2014

Really, really fucking horny

Well, not today, not anymore.  But yesterday I was getting pretty desperate.  I mean, days (DAYS!) had passed with no sex (I know, I know, I'm incredibly greedy).   For two nights he'd given me a short and not very hard "good girl" caning as a reward for doing all my tasks.  The canings left me turned on, but not at all fucked, you know?

Last night I silently asked for it, with the begging eyes, and he said possibly, yes, but he looked tired and out of sorts to me.   Then when he yelled at me about standing in his way I figured it was all over.  I immediately went upstairs and got into a kneeling position on the floor, trying to breath and meditate and remain open to possibilities, and to eliminate expectations.  Reminding myself of my little mantra that I am here for his desires, not the other way around. 

He came in, and told me to get into bed.  He can read my every expression.  He told me exactly what I was thinking.  You know those mind reading Masters that are supposed to be fantasy?  Yeah, like that.

He threw the covers back and asked in his hard voice "So, how have you disappointed me today. slave?"  I nearly cried at the words and tone, but instead held myself together, and said that I'd stood in his way when he was trying to turn off the game.   It's sometimes a little scary, the power he has over me to make me feel. 

 He asked how I'd been especially pleasing that day. All the stuff I had done with care and love that day had become irrelevant in the second before (washed the sheets, made the beds, big f'ing deal).

 I said I didn't know.  I didn't feel I was one bit pleasing at that moment.  He told me the things he liked: I made a delicious dinner (steak, succotash, corn on the cob, salad), and I sorted out some health insurance dealie, and he absolved me for being in his way that one time.   He made some funny little comment then, which I can't remember now, and I laughed.  The absolution freed my mind from being weighed down.

Then he said I was getting a beating for fun, not punishment, and proceeded to punch me in the ass a few times.   He told me to get a towel and something short to play with.  I dug the small curved paddle out of the toy bag and brought it to him, tingling with excitement.  

He tied my wrists to the head board with a leather strap, then began a game of "Name that TV show theme song" with the rhythms of the paddle.  For some of them he sang along too.  I missed some easy ones (The Simpsons) but got more right than I expected.  Either way, win or lose, the prize was a hard blow with the paddle.  I was barely able to think by the end of it.  He alternated using the paddle with the short cane some.  Then he flipped me over and fucked me long and hard with my arms still tied above my head.   

This morning I'm as content as can be.  I got up before him so I could make breakfast (Mediterranean style burrito with sausage, feta, and Greek olives) and he could get extra minutes of sleep.

I have a new job in the mornings also: gate opening.   We have a gate across the driveway to keep the dogs in, and he's been having me walk down, open it, then give him a flash of bits and a kiss before he drives through and I close the gate.   This morning I got a bonus orgasm right there in the driveway after showing him my cunt.  Luckily there are trees between us and the road. 

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Jogging Motivation and Country Living

The other day on our walk, Master told me to take off my bra.  I did a quick glance around to see if anyone was coming down the road. No one was, so I took off the bra and carried it.  

 It is good that we live in the country.  

He grabbed me by the nipple and started jogging.  Rather than let my nipple get stretched out like Elasti-girl, I followed.

Motivational, right?!  

The bra had to stay off for the rest of the walk too.





Monday, August 25, 2014

Sunday at home means butt sex

In terms of kinky stuff, this was a quiet week, and for once I was thankful.  All my sore parts got a chance to heal up and had a rest from being hit or bit or tweaked.  I still served as usual, we did our nightly ritual until it is beginning to feel more natural now, and we had sex a lot, with a little light slapping, sometimes my wrists tied down, some humiliation, but nothing very painful.

Then there was Sunday, yesterday.  I don't know if he just decided it was time again, or I had that look in my eye that was more like "Hurt me" than "Please don't hurt me", but I'm thinking it is most likely that he figured my being on my period was a good enough reason for butt sex.  And that was a good enough reason for caning. 

First he told me he wanted me upstairs.  I went up, and he had me sucking his cock in bed.  Then he got a cane and had me use the vibrator while at the same time he whacked me and I sucked more.  This is close to my favorite thing ever, it has all the good bits: his cock, orgasms, the cane... I had a few orgasms as he commanded.   

He rolled me on to my stomach and was using the cane harder and harder, then a brief pause and I felt the butt plug being pushed in.  I tried to relax, but it wasn't happening.   He pushed on it for a while, then just stuck his dick in my butt instead.  I was so not ready, but it didn't matter, it was happening.  I tried to concentrate on not making any noises, only semi-successfully.    

He pulled out rather abruptly and went to clean off.  I guess all was not sparkly clean in butt-ville. (Please don't suggest an enema, he won't allow it anyway).

I had a rush of emotion while he was gone.  Sometimes I think my bottom is directly linked to an emotion center in my brain.  Does that sound weird?  Anyway, all of a sudden I was sure I had done something wrong, displeased him somehow and that was why he had stopped.  Maybe I was too loud or too painful sounding?  

 I don't know why exactly, but I was crying when he came back.   He told me to cut it out, that the bed squeaks were simply too loud and he was going to cum on my face instead.  He reminded me it was not up to me to worry about why he wanted this or that, or why he stopped fucking my ass, but simply to accept and obey.   This cheered me up some, along with a few slaps "for sniveling", and I rather enjoyed being frosted by him.  

We took a shower together.  I got peed on.  It was good. 

However, the rest of the afternoon I still felt off somehow, muted and subdued, and I couldn't figure out why.  I felt down, like I'd been a disappointment or failed at being a good slave. I didn't say my mantra.  Actually, every time I thought of it my mind did an ironic laugh that said "No, you're not any good".   

That night during our ritual I had a whole FOUR things to confess as not being up to par in service, but they were all minor and he didn't punish me.  Maybe I would have been happier with a punishment, but I didn't ask for it.



Saturday at Tryst

I did not take notes at Tryst, so here you are getting the one week old memory version of events.  
Some things were really memorable though!

Master and I met in person a friend who had been an online friend only.
 We set up a fun bondage scene with her.  
They discussed what was going to happen while I was sent to get the rope and toy bags.  

We were both tied to a tree and then Master beat on my front side- paddles, crop, belt, misery stick, floggers and single tail.   It was very intense, coming even on top of my old bruises, and he did a lot of those head games also, which now are mostly fuzzy in my memory.  One that I remember was he stuffed some freshly cunty flavored panties (because he shoved them in my cunt first) in my mouth and then demanded that I answer questions.  Then whacked me for not speaking so he could understand.  

 Unfortunately, I started to feel a sick to my stomach, after it had gone on a long time, probably from a combination of pain and hunger, and rather than risk vomiting I asked if we could stop (this was quite a while after the panty gag had been removed).   Master immediately untied me and set me on the ground.  

After a snack I felt much better.   Skipping ahead to the evening...

Master took part in an "air tight" gang bang out in a field full of people, near the preparations of the Wishing Tree fire.   

I watched, and fetched supplies (condoms, cavicide for the mats, paper towels.)  You know, as one does.  

I waited for my turn, then he fucked me also, while the tree was burning.   It feels like a very primal thing, by fire, in the dark, surrounded by our Tribe, Master pulling my head back by the hair and ordering me to watch, to keep my eyes open and see the fire rather than close them and shut everything around us out.  It is becoming a tradition, fucking Dothraki style.  I think I can get into that kind of tradition.   

PS. I did not win the camp slut award, though I know I got at least two votes. 



Sunday, August 24, 2014

The Hunger Games

One of the events for Tryst was a version of the Hunger Games.  It was far too fabulous (the pageantry!) to describe completely, and I'm not sure how far I can go anyway without getting into the  "non disclosure" areas.  I can tell what happened to ME, but not what everyone else was doing.  We had chosen sides before camp.  On one were the tributes, or hunted, and on the other were the peacekeepers, or hunters.   Each tribute had a list of limits, likes and fears that they had filled out on paper.  When caught by a peacekeeper, they handed over the paper, and then the peacekeeper could use anything that wasn't a limit to try to force the tribute to hand over their token (name badge).   Essentially, handing over the badge was like using the safeword, you were all done. 

I hadn't brought tennis shoes or hiking boots, not realizing that we'd be doing this in the woods, so I was in a skirt and sandals (I also didn't pack pants).  I knew that I couldn't run through the woods that way, so my survival strategy would have to be based on hiding. 

 They gave us a minute or so of head start and we all jogged down the path, then split in different directions into the woods.  I found a "golden parachute" which turned out to be a 30 second head start card.  The first time I was caught I was walking down a deer trail, not having reached a hiding place.  I used the card to escape, and it actually worked. 

I went over a few hills and settled just beyond the crest of a ridge in a little thicket.  There I waited.  I watched Master (a peacekeeper) walk all around me, and another tribute run past, and another peacekeeper went around me too.  None of them spotted me.  At times I lay flat in the leaves to blend in.  The mosquitoes would find me and I'd have to move on a little bit, then wait some more.  

I heard a lot of shouting and some screaming, but couldn't really tell what they were saying. 

Eventually the sun was getting low in the sky and I thought I'd better head back before dark and before the mosquitoes got serious.   I didn't know who was left, but there was still shouting and screaming so I knew it was still on.  There was some whistling too, but I didn't know if that meant "Help, I'm lost" or "Everyone come in now".  

Walking over one hill toward camp was when I ran into Master.  I didn't attempt to run. I figured my game was over.  If he ordered me to give up my badge I would have to.  But he didn't.  Instead he yelled for more peacekeepers to come help him and then he told me to get on my knees and suck him, which I did.  He then turned me over to someone else and ran off!   The other guy looked over my list, had me do a bunch of stuff, did a bunch more stuff to me, then as I had complied with everything, he also let me go!  Yay me!

I walked into a lovely raspberry patch, which took me ages to get through without getting all scratched up and on the other side I was waylaid by two more peacekeepers.  One of them held my things while the other went straight for the most painful things I could imagine.  I kicked him, but then I was thrown to the ground and gave up my badge rather than be hurt that way anymore.   

When I got back to the group it turned out only 3 tributes were still uncaptured.   Some of them had taken extreme beatings by multiple people while refusing to surrender.  Stun guns were involved.   Hell, I would have thrown my badge at anyone who even showed me a stun gun.  

A girl has to know her limitations.  

This was one of the highlights of camp for me (and many others from what they have said) and I can't wait to do it again next year.  


Saturday, August 23, 2014

Friday Evening Whipping at Tryst

Friday was a great, challenging, tough, massively fun day.  After the book club, I gave a massage to the one who bought me in the service auction.  This was a relaxing time, during which Master wandered off and I'm not really sure what he was doing.

Then Master came back for me after an hour or two, and we went to one half of a foot massage class before ducking out to meet Travis for a scene that had been arranged for me by Master.   

 I'd been looking forward to this since Tryst last year when he'd whipped me just for a few minutes in a demo for his class.   I have a serious whip fetish.  I love everything about them: the sound, the look, the feel of it in my hand, even the stingy sort of pain is one of my favorites- hurts so much, but so good.   I got the feeling that he was very doubtful that I'd actually like what he was going to do.   He told me a while ago "There are two types of girls: those who love bullwhips and those who have actually had one used on them".  

I was wearing a skirt and no top.  I asked if Travis wanted me to wear the cuffs I had brought and he said no, he didn't want me restrained. I set my stuff to the side and gripped on to a beautiful wooden star outdoors under a small tent.  If you are on Fet, you may have seen this star on K&P this week.  

He started by discussing my limits with Master and what he planned to do.  Master rejected the idea of breathplay.   I guess he wants to be the only one to do that with me- he has his ways.  I stood there holding the star and said nothing.   

He started with sensually digging his fingernails into the pressure points of my nail beds. Ow. Then there was the warm up flogging, and some other stuff, and Master showed him how to make me cum with the trigger command.  The whip of course.  It started out nice and easy but gradually worked up to super ouchy.  Not so bad that I wanted to run off, though, not more than once or twice anyway.  But I didn't.  
Don't you love how they will say things like "You wanted this.  You asked for this?"  and then in my head I'm like "Yeah, but I was crazy/under the influence/befuddled/stupid etc."  But I don't really say anything except "Ow" and "Eeep" and a bunch of whimpers.

Maybe some screams, I'm not sure.   Also, I orgasmed without the command eventually.  

A lot of people came over to watch.  I could hear them commenting.  Then it was all done, and there were hugs and pets and I sat on the ground and enjoyed my endorphin haze.  There were pictures taken by the official photographer.  I'm sure I looked a mess.  There was a little blood. 
I'll just refer back to this post for what happened next: 

Aftercare


We ate a quick snack and rushed off to join in the camp Hunger Games.  It is time now for me to get busy, so I'll have to save that for another blog. 


Friday, August 22, 2014

Some New Rules

Master has imposed several new rules this week, starting during Tryst.  He has good reasons for all of them, and I thought I'd share  a little bit about them here.

The first one is not so much a rule as a new ritual.  He knows that I have a problem letting go of guilt sometimes, even over little things which in his mind don't warrant punishment.  

So every night, until he decides otherwise, we have a ritual where I tell him any area of service that I feel I did not do to the best of my ability.  This is NOT to nit pick at me; it is only for things that I actual do feel bad about. 
I could always find something to pick at if I thought long and hard enough, but that is not his goal.

Then I will tell him anything I did especially well in his service that day.  This one has been difficult, especially when the day has been particularly ordinary and routine.   If I can't think of anything, that is ok too. 

He will give me penance (a mild reminder, not meant to be unpleasant, something like kissing his feet) or punishment as appropriate.  And then he will absolve me.  Te absolvo. 

He will tell me any areas that he thought I needed to improve and also anything that he thought I did especially well for him.  

Lastly, I have to tell him if I noticed any areas in which he could improve as my Master.  Yes!  Really!  He wants to know what I think.  I know better than to come up with silly or self serving ideas, I hope.  

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The second one is that I have to floss every day, which I was kind of bad about doing before and the dentist always chews me out. 

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The third is I'm not allowed to say "Nothing" or "Never mind" to him after mumbling something and then being asked what I said.  Oooof, I'll have to watch this one because it is a habit, especially if what I said wasn't perhaps in my best interest, shall we say.   

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He wants to focus more on healthy eating and lose some weight, so I am now required to make and serve a tasty salad as a first course every night at dinner.   

I am actually enjoying all this new focus on our relationship, and it is taking some of the sting out of "camp drop" for me.  


Thursday, August 21, 2014

Next! (Tryst Adventures)

Thursday evening we ate with friends and hung out for a good time around their campfire.  It was quite peaceful except for the occasional hint of plotting that was surrounding Master and MV, who did not buy me in the auction, but to whom Master was going to give me for an hour of play.  And by play I really mean torture.   

   After a bit of roaming around to different events we ended up at the dungeon.   We hadn't brought our toy bags from the tent, but Master was up for a little scene, so he put me on the spanking bench and hand spanked and punched me in the ass a bunch.  At one point he took my boots and used them to whack me.   It's weird where my thoughts go.  I was thinking "If he breaks my boots on my ass, I wonder if he'll buy me some new, more comfy, ones?"

I was lying there on my stomach on the bench when I felt another set of hands.  Now there were two pairs of hands on me.  I couldn't see who it was, but Master had invited someone else to touch me.  

Then the other hands were gone. 

Master felt how wet I was getting and put me on my knees to suck him.  Then he fucked me there on the ground.  I tried to resist a little after asking if this was ok, and he just slapped me some more and kept fucking, calling me his cocking sucking hole, his little whore, and other such hotness.  I felt wonderfully used.  

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Friday morning we were up early cook breakfast again, then off to a class at 10:00.   Master was not very excited about the topic (Authenticity, which we do not have a problem with), but I was really interested in the presenters, as they were the only M/s couple who would be there talking about this dynamic specifically.  So he humored me by going with me, and found that HE enjoyed it so much we went back for all their other lectures too, except for one that we missed.  He took away some ideas he liked (none of them painful for me!!) and has put them into practice already. 

Power and Surrender

This is the website of Master Obsidian and slave namaste.   They have an awesome energy and connection which shines out in their presentation.  It was a pleasure to get to know them a little bit.  Plus she is so darn cute I could eat her up.

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After lunch Master turned me over to MV for an hour of tortures, and he left to go to a class.  A few minutes later he heard me screaming and came back.   He told me later "You know how, as a parent, if you hear your kid scream on the other side of the playground you can pick him out even among all the screams?  Well, it is the same way with slaves."    Not that he wanted to stop the screams, just to be close by me.  Isn't that sweet?  

Turns out, rubberbands really hurt.  Who'd have thought it, hey?  


And they leave marks.   There was a lot of paddling, and tears. Have I mentioned I find paddles hard to take?  Get it?  Hard! 

At one point I cursed at her and raised my fist to punch her, but thought better at the last second and didn't.  I said "yellow" three or four times to give myself a breather.  It was a hard scene.   

Master "helped".

He comes up to me after about 20 minutes? 10 minutes? I'm really not sure, and shows me his watch, but only 5 minutes have passed. He continues to do this,  saying things like "I don't know how you are going to last an entire hour", each time showing me that the hands on the watch have barely moved because he keeps setting it back. I'm crying and in despair because I know I'm never going to hold out for an entire hour of this and time is hardly passing at all, from all evidence.

Eventually they decide I've had enough and let me collapse on the ground.  I know it hasn't been an hour, but it is all done anyway.  I was floating on my happy little subspace cloud then, and being petted and told I did a good job (this was important because I did feel that I hadn't really).  

Very shortly, Master hailed a golf cart ride and we're zipping off to do a book club thing.  Book club in subspace was interesting.  I'm not sure my contributions were very good though.  

More later, friends....






Aftercare

Is it only in my Master's dictionary that "aftercare" means having a bucket of ice cold water dumped over your back while bracing hands on a picnic table, then having the owie places scrubbed with soap?   Then a few more buckets of cold water to rinse.  

Next time I'm resolving not to make a fuss about having to go to the showers even if I think the warm water might hurt.  It can always be worse.  

Also, did I mention that being doused with freezing cold water makes me pee?  No?  Oh good.   

This was my back on Sunday.  I had a whipping scene with Travis on Friday.  It kind of looks like fireworks to me. 

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Fun at Tryst

I need to write about what else happened at Tryst, the fun parts, a little about the not so fun parts, but mainly the fun parts.   Otherwise I'm going to forget, and I don't want to do that. 

We arrived Wednesday, set up the campsite and then went around visiting friends and just hanging out.  I don't even remember now if we did any playing, but perhaps Master will remind me when he gets home.

Thursday morning we woke bright and early to the sounds of sex in tents around us.  Loud sex.  What could be more awesome than that?   So of course we made our own sounds.  Loud ones.  :) 

Master started a campfire and together we cooked some tasty breakfast of roast zucchini, potatoes, onions and red pepper.  I'm still limited in what I can eat (no fat) so that meant none of the normal camp fare would be for me- bacon, brats, steaks etc.  Instead we had very healthy meals all the time, with many vegetables and zucchini bread I had made, and some meals with chicken in them.  For desserts we had birthday cake that Master had made for me (a fairly low fat one).   

At 10:00 am I was scheduled for a volunteer shift, which is always a nice way to contribute to camp and meet people.   Master had picked what he wanted me to volunteer for and he was planning to help me with whatever it was we were assigned.  This turned out to be making the message board where camp denizens can leave notes for each other.   Each person got their own envelope with their name on it.  I got a message in mine later on saying "You are a wicked wicked slut".   Guess who it was from?  

It took about 2 hours to make the board, then there was a quick lunch that I made for us.  After lunch we were off to our first class, which was a three hour intensive on rough body play.

 I got punched and pinched and kicked plenty as he tried out everything, or just for fun.  I guess that is why they call it "intensive".

After a quick dinner of sandwiches it was time for opening ceremonies, the officially opening of the dungeon and the service auction.   

I had put myself in the auction with Master's permission and his help writing up what I was offering.  It's for charity, right?  Since I have no money, this is one way that I can give, by auctioning my service.

My card, written by my Master, read "Your wish is my command- use your imagination" and then listed a few limits.  Any actual sex was not allowed according to the auction rules, but Master impressed on me beforehand that I would do WHATEVER he commanded, no matter what. 

  I was nervous about who would buy me, and even more nervous that I'd stand up there on the stage, naked, exposed and not receive one bid.  Fortunately we had a prior agreement worked out with a friend that she would bid on me if no one else did, and my Master would bid on her (she is a Top, so was offering a spanking which I would receive for him if Master had the winning bid).   She was willing to go as high as $5 for me- woohoo!  

 Neither of those turned out to be necessary and we were both "bought" by other people.  The service requested was a massage, which was enjoyable all around.   

That night we went to the dungeon.   Which story will be continued next time...


Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Walls

If my Tryst had a theme this year it was walls.

You see, we left several elderly dogs and one sick dog in the care of our dear friend Mystique so we could go to camp.  

Hank had been going slowly down with congestive heart failure, and I was waiting for him to tell me that it was time for him to go, to move on.  But he hadn't.  I've owned dogs for a lot of years and they always tell you when it is time.   I petted him on the head and looked into his honest brown eyes before we left.   I said goodbye but I didn't realize it would be the last goodbye.   I put up the first wall right then, resolving not to worry about Hank, or Cinder, or the other dogs we had left at home and how they were getting on.  I had faith that Mystique could handle it, whatever happened.  

Thursday Hank took his turn for the worse, and Mystique called Master at camp.     They made the arrangements for him to be put to sleep at the emergency clinic. Do you know how precious it is to have a friend that will do such a painful thing for you with so much love?  I didn't until now. 

Master didn't tell me anything about this phone call.  They thought it would ruin my camp and I could find out after it was all done and we were heading home.  

I know Master almost as well as I know myself though, and I knew something was off.  I worried that it was me throwing our energy off, or that he didn't like being at Tryst for some reason.   When I asked what was wrong he assured me it wasn't anything I had done, and that was the end of discussion.

That was another wall.   

Friday night we walked the labyrinth, a maze of glowing candles, quietly and peacefully.   I prayed at the center.  We looked at the stars.   On the way back to the tent he told me about Hank.  A wall came down.  We cried.  I felt horrible guilt at not having had the strength to have done this myself, not to have made the decision before we left that we all knew was coming.   I felt horrible to have put that burden on Mystique.   But you just don't know what will happen.  Maybe he would have been fine for another week and the kids would have been able to say goodbye to him properly.  

We went back to the tent, I cried some more.  We had sex.  When I orgasmed I cried some more.   It was comfort sex.  I'm sure that is a thing, right?  
Afterward we fell asleep in each other's arms.   

In the morning I put the wall back up again.  I literally told myself that I would deal with my grief later.  But now the wall between Master and I was gone, so every time I caught a sad feeling from him I knew what it was and I didn't try to attribute it to something I had done or not done.   Life made sense again with that wall down.

I thought I would cry at the burn, with a wish about Hank on the tree, but I didn't.  I held a good friend as she cried, and still I had this wall around my heart.  It was necessary.   I couldn't feel just yet.   I thought I would cry at closing ceremonies, as I have in the past two years.  But my wall stayed up.  It was necessary.  I didn't cry and that was ok too. 

On the way home we talked about our happy memories.  At home we unpacked everything and put it away.  

Then we dug a hole together, 3 feet by 3 feet by two feet.   Big enough somehow to bury the dog with the biggest heart on the planet.  I thought about he time Hank came in from working cows with a perfect cowhoof shaped print of mud covering his eye and yet he never quit his work or complained about his injury.    How could that heart, that passion, fit in this hole?  All the walls came  down and I cried during the digging.  I welcomed the small blister from the rough shovel handle.  We talked some more while we drove to the clinic to pick up Hank's body. 

 Another time was on my mind, the time when we were running in a ranch trial and he had to stop a herd of stampeding cattle without any help from me because I was over a hill, and some of the spectators had to tell me afterward what an amazing job he did.  One sixty pound dog against 10 cows weighing upwards of 800 lbs each?  That is a huge heart.  That was the time a farmer, the owner of those cows, tried to trade me a whole fat butchered Angus steer for Hank.  I said no, of course.   This was my friend, my partner.   

I thought of all the times he had laid his head on my knee and given his heart to me, practically every day.  There is no end to a dog's devotion. 

Except one.    

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Getting an early start to the day

 Earlier, Master used me quickly, bending me over the kitchen counter, before he left for work, leaving me drippy and horny.   


I've already been for my walk this morning, and I have zucchini bread baking and about to come out of the oven any minute.   Then I have to go to the doctor AND the dentist today, plus do shopping and errands.  I am pretty much finished packing, but a few things are left to do.   I'm paranoid that I will forget that one critical thing, but Master assures me a Walmart is nearby and he probably won't be mad at me, depending on what I forget of course.  Somehow, that doesn't reassure me all THAT much. 

Tomorrow we leave for Twisted Tryst, a great big kinky camping extravaganza, so there will be no blog while I'm gone for a bit.  Then I'm sure I will have TONS of stuff to write about.

I have signed up for a charity benefit auction at Tryst, which will allow the winning bidder to have 1-2 hours of my services as a non-sexual bottom for various and sundry activities.   The thought that the winner could be ANYONE at camp scares me, in an exciting way, but one certain friend is determined to get me even if she has to pay a whole $5 for me.   I believe she wants to shoot rubberbands at me, and who knows what else.   She's bought a big pack of them and contacted my Master to ask him to make sure I bring this:

A couple weeks ago I received this as a birthday gift from Kaya.

 

 You know what they say about "With friends like these..."

Monday, August 11, 2014

Misery and Humiliation (not as bad as it sounds)

Sunday afternoon I was sitting quietly at the computer when Master came up behind me to tell me "I think you need a spanking".  

 I wasn't wearing much, but what I had on was dropped to the floor as I bent over the arm of the couch.  He picked up a plastic light saber.  

After the spanking, he rubbed me a little bit until I was all wet and desperately horny, and then told me to put on a movie. 

 I got to wear a leash during this, snubbed up tight in his hand, and watched about half of it before he told me to suck him.  I spent a long time pleasing him that way, until the movie ended and he took out the misery stick.   He sure does love that thing.  I began sobbing after a few minutes and he said he didn't want to hear it so I alternately bit my arm or stuffed my mouth with robe.  

He ordered me on my knees, and I knelt in front of him and sucked but every time the stick came down again on the same sore spot I'd get distracted and quit sucking, which led to a fresh and extra vigorous application of the stick on my ass.  

He put me on the floor and fucked me. About half way through he suddenly stood up and told me to go in the bathroom and get in the tub.  Of course I knew what was coming, but he didn't get in with me like usual.  Nor did he turn on the water.   He simply stood beside the tub and forced my head down on his cock.   After a bit he pulled out of my mouth and pissed all over me.  He called me a dirty cunt.   Then he had me suck him again, good to the last drop, heh.   He walked out and tossed off over his shoulder 

"Clean yourself up".  

The amazing thing to me was even though I get the golden shower treatment just about every week, sometimes twice, it had never been like this.   He had significantly raised the humiliation level by doing it the way he did.  I let it soak in.   The humiliation, that is.  The pee, I washed off like he told me.  

When I came back all clean he was at the computer playing a game.  He told me to go put in the butt plug, and hurry, so I trotted off upstairs to get it and put it in.  When I came back he had me lie on my back and show him the plug, then suck his cock as he played.  He asked me if it was more humiliating to do that while he played a game or while he watched porn.   I said it didn't matter either way, and the truth is, I barely registered it as humiliating at all.  It used to be.  I used to feel it so keenly that he was just allowing me to suck him while he was otherwise occupied.  That I was completely unimportant except as a hole. 

Now it is so much a part of life it is just what I do.  I don't really think about it, it is just part of being a slave.


Soon enough, he was heading off upstairs and I scrambled to follow him quickly enough.   The butt plug makes me awkward at quick movement.

He fucked me and gave me many orgasms before he finally came. 

I love my life.   

Sunday, August 10, 2014

Play Party

Master and I went to a play party in Madison last night.  It was a really nice location, with lots of space available, and a choice of dungeon equipment since we arrived just as they opened the doors.

It was really great to be in the middle of a great big kinky happening again.  I got tied to a cross and beaten with the misery stick, flogged, whipped, and paddled well, then he lay back on the pillows in the corner so I could suck his cock.   After that Master was going to fuck me and I struggled and told him no.  He tied my hands in front of me and slapped my face, telling me to obey and behave.  He told me I was his fucking property, his little hole and he was going to use me right there on the floor in the dungeon.   We hadn't informed the Dungeon Monitors about a "edgy" type of scene and he didn't want them feeling they needed to worry about us or butt in.   So I only struggled a little :).    I got totally fucked and he came.  

We relaxed for a while, visited and watched.  I brought him water.  Then later on he asked me if I wanted some more.  I smiled and said "Yes, Master", like the insatiable cunt I am.  He had me stand in front of him (he was seated on a step) and punched me in the arms and thighs until I was all bruised up.   He used pressure points to make me squeak, and made me come over his lap.

At one point he took out the crop and slapped my cunt over and over.  I stood in front of him and looked into his eyes.  He laid the crop on my cheeks, tapping each side of my face.    I felt at that moment an intense connection, like nothing could be more perfect in the world than to stand in front of him while he hurt me, his beloved property.

  There are some bruises there, but they feel worse than they look.   Still, I'm not wearing a sleeveless shirt today because of my upper arms.

A few whip marks from last night.

Saturday, August 9, 2014

Opinions, and whose counts anyway

I'm extremely behind on blogging about our play sessions.  
I probably won't catch up.  This has been a busy week and I've seemed to do more playing than writing.  This is awesome, by the way!

But after a few days they all blend together and I can't remember what was when anymore.   

One day this week, it might have been last Sunday, I was feeling a bit down after a play session wherein Master had the best sex of the month, he says, and I got mindfucked and also very well fucked. 

 We got on the subject of what internet friends and acquaintances think of me.    I admitted to Master that I did care and worry about what they thought, and that I am not all that eager to write certain things  because I don't want anyone thinking less of me or him.  Whether I actually write about those things depends on whether Master has approved it or not, but some things are written more reluctantly than others. 

 He didn't like this one bit, and gave me a lecture on whose opinions were important here anyway (his, duh).   We went out to the garden and as we pulled weeds half naked together, he reiterated to me that not only did my opinion of our activities not matter all that much, seeing as how I'm his hole and fucktoy, but what my friends on the internet thought about what we do mattered even less.   

He's right, of course.  

In my more secure, less subdroppy, moments I realize that if they don't like who we are and what we do, in all the varieties, even when I may not look so slavey, or if they think he's not the best Master that ever lived (he is for me), then they are free to unfriend me at any time.   

All this angst didn't come from anyone's direct comments to me.  But I can sometimes be over sensitive about things that people say in general ("If my Master did xyz I would be out of there!") and I have to remember it just isn't relevant to us.   Normally, those comments seem to pass by me without hitting a mark, but then I get all worried and insecure and they come back to me as criticisms.  I can't say it is sensible, but it is my mind.   

His opinion is the one that counts, of course, and he reminded me of that.   He even gave me another mantra to repeat whenever I'm feeling down or less than wonderful.  "My Master thinks that I am amazing.  I am a good slave."  I've been saying it all week, and he makes me repeat it back to him now and then to make sure I remember.

Anyway, aside from this short bit of insecurity, this has been a wonderful week for us.  Wednesday he had a half day at work so we spent the afternoon playing.  He had me put the butt plug in (I'm getting better at that) and then fucked me.  It makes everything so tight and intense.  Then took it out and he fucked my ass, which was overwhelmingly fantastic.  

Last night he beat me for an hour solid, starting really slow and light (Chinese water torture anyone?) and working up to some serious whacking with the misery stick, paddle and redneck implement (radio antenna- hurt like a mofo even when I was in subspace).  
The antenna ended up breaking and had to be thrown away.   I can't say I'm sad about that.


Friday, August 8, 2014

Things Not To Do

1.  Do not try to take revenge on your Master for peeing on your face by dropping the soap on his pinky toe.   You can claim it was an accident, but that won't help you.

2. Do not laugh at your Master when the dog is being just as obnoxious as he taught her to be.  He lets you get away with ridiculous cheek also, but there are limits. 

3. Do not laugh at your Master when he misses your butt or back with the belt or whip.  He did it on purpose just to see if you would dare to tell him he's a bad shot.  And, remember, he can hit your ears with it if he wants to.

4. Don't contradict your Master when he says you "look cute" dressed as a character from Sailor Moon.  It actually doesn't matter if you believe it or not, you're still going for a walk with him in public that way.  Without underwear of any sort.  Might as well think "cute" thoughts rather than "utterly ridiculous" ones.  

5. Don't worry if a bit of public humiliation makes your pussy sopping wet, he already knows you're a wanton pervert.

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

New Favorite Toy

My birthday present is Master's new favorite toy.   Both last night and the night before I got a thorough beating with this thing:



It is aptly called the "misery stick".   It is not too bad with a long warm up.  Ok, it is still bad, but painful in a way that is delicious and puts me into subspace.  After the stick last night he gave me at least a dozen huge orgasms while fucking me until I was completely spent.   

With no warm up it makes me cry.  I can't decide if it is funny or disconcerting that when I did, Master started singing the chorus of

 Don't Cry for me

Perhaps it is some of each.


Monday, August 4, 2014

Slip Sliding Away

Saturday morning I'm lying on my back on the floor by the kitchen table.  Master is mostly watching porn but also occasionally glancing down at me out of the corner of his eye.  He's ordered me to masturbate for him.  I've fetched a dildo and am rubbing away. 

 I feel almost completely dismissed, used, and disregarded like a live porn show playing there in the background.  On the hard floor.  And those thoughts make me wet and rub even more furiously.  
I soak the towel I have laid down on the floor.  He places one foot heavily on my cunt so I can't reach it anymore.  I rub myself against his foot, feeling raunchy and degraded both by being literally under his foot and from enjoying it so thoroughly.  
Slut. Whore.

He periodically has me get up to my knees and suck his cock, telling me he's imagining that I am the girl in the video he's watching.  And more than that, he tells me utterly humiliating things.  Then he has me go back to my position prone on the floor, naked and spread open.  Eventually he has me suck him again and comes in my mouth.

  He asks later if I'd rather swallow or have come decorate my face, and I have no answer except "Whatever you want, Master".  He smiles and is very pleased with that being my only thought.  It really is what ever he wants.  

And speaking of brainwashed.  


I'm reading this piece about strong, intelligent, stubborn submissives and how some of us are just stupid doormats for being obedient, as opposed to those who make their doms fight them for control every step of the way.  

I'm not buying it.   That particular kool aid they can have spit right back at them.  I have my Master's kool aid to drink. 

Yes, my Master likes me strong, intelligent and stubborn, but only when I'm acting in accordance with his wishes, acting to further his interests, in service to him, not to push back against him.  

As if to reinforce some of my weekend thoughts, this morning I'm listening to my Dixie Chicks CD and it comes to one song he hates, which I used to like. 

This song bugs my Master and every time it comes on he'll make a comment or simply give me a look about what a stupid song it is, and how that chick should just get over it.  

So when the song comes up and I hit the skip button even though I'm the only one home, and then I wonder whose mind is it really.   

Slip sliding away, down the rabbit hole.  
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iUODdPpnxcA

It's a better song anyway.

Sunday, August 3, 2014

Picnic in the Woods

Having three conversations at once and trying to write at the same time does not work.  I finally left two of the chats, head all abuzz.  

Saturday morning was another session with the knife.  This time I was tied down, both arms above my head, my feet tied together.  He knelt over my face, shoving his cock down my throat to the balls.  He had the knife and a sharpening steel and was using it above me, getting it nice and sharp.  

"Snick, snick, snick" went the blade across the steel.  My stomach fluttered.  My cunt clenched.

He pulled back, then held my throat, pointing my face higher with that hand, and began cutting some lines across my chest.  These were more definite than before, a bit sharper, but still no blood.  He cut his initials again into my breast, some lines above that and on my stomach, "cunt".

I had the butt plug inserted already.   I freed my legs by squirming when it seemed he was about to take me, making it easier for him to get in.  Having my feet tied together was hampering that effort.  

After he came inside me, I had some rushing around to do to get ready, because we were heading off to the outdoor picnic/kink in the woods event.   I made and ate breakfast with the butt plug in, leaving it until it was uncomfortable and he said I could take it out. 

It turned out we were the only ones to play, at least that I saw.  I wished more people would because I don't like being the only one (and I like to watch), but oh well.  

Mystique gave me a long misery stick for a present, and Master put it to use right away.  It is thin and painful, aptly nicknamed.   As soon as I was out of the car I was up against the side of it, leaning my hands on the car and getting whapped.  I danced and whimpered at the stripes applied to my backside. 

Later on, after much socializing, Master fulfilled one of my bucket list items by tying me to a tree and beating on me.   He flogged me sore, and used the misery stick and the belt.  Then he took me down, we went off a short distance and he fucked me on our blanket on the ground.  We couldn't see anybody from there, but I had no illusions that they all knew, which was... well...I don't know, it just was.   Hot. Humiliating. Embarrassing.  Hot.  All that stuff. 

Coming back all freshly fucked with leaves in my hair and sticky all over, I pulled inward, like a turtle.  I pretty much just stood by Master and looked at nothing until they got a game of Cards Against Humanity out and I had something to do to bring me around.  

That was another item on my bucket list actually, as I'd been wanting to play and hearing all about how fun it was.  It certainly has a sick and twisted element to the game!

It was a great day to spend with our friends, and we got back home late after the campfire.

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

This morning I made pancakes for Master and he used my mouth, treating me like a simple object for his pleasure.  He let me masturbate while he watched.   Now I've just been doing some naked lounging and am still wearing my leather collar and cuffs since yesterday.   I really could get used to this.  




  




Friday, August 1, 2014

Knife

After caning me last night he told me to lie on the bed.  He was holding the knife again.  I should get a picture of it, but I'm not at home today.   It is a lovely functional buck knife that he's had forever.   He tells me again that he wants to sharpen it, have me tied down and actually cut me.   It makes me all tingly.   For now he traces it across my stomach.  I'm feeling the scratch marks.  When I open my eyes I look down and see his initials on my belly.  He takes my nipple in his fingers and pokes the knife edge against it.   I can't stand to look any more.  He's reminding me of that scene in Game of Thrones where a slave gets his nipple cut off to prove a point.  The point being that a slave would stand there and let you cut his nipple off.   I know he likes my nipples attached though, so I'm not afraid.  Ok, I'm a little afraid.  There is always a little fear with the knife.  


Bang for the Buck

For $5 at Fleet Farm you can buy a lot of ouch. My ass is still hurting this morning from Master's new favorite toy.  I got the &quo...