Wednesday, July 29, 2015


We're heading out for a short vacation tomorrow, so I might not be around the internets much.

I hope everyone is staying cool!

Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Rock Paper Scissors as the slave

Last night Master challenged me to a game of rock, paper, scissors as I was sweeping.  

First round:  I chose scissors.  He chose scissors. Tie.

Second round:  I chose scissors.  He chose paper.  He covered my scissors with his paper.  "I win", he said gleefully.

My mouth dropped.  In a second, I came back with "Why?"

"Because I can," he smirked at me.

"I think I'll go back to my sweeping." 

No, my eyes weren't rolling.  Much.

Sunday, July 26, 2015

Under the Bus

As soon as we arrived at the party last night I was thrown under the bus. Actually, in the bus.  There was a little fisher price type bus and someone put my name in twice to be drawn out and spin the wheel to do activities with, well, anyone who had put their name in as a Top.

  Master had previously approved my playing the game and I was called up right away.  My spinner landed on "Wash feet" and "Receive light flogging" for and from two different Tops.   It was a good way to break out of the whole vanilla wedding mindset and into kinky fun times mindset.  We went straight from the former to the latter and I was having trouble getting my mind ready.  Putting my leather collar on helped, but kneeling on the ground and washing a man's feet helped even more.  Then the flogging, a warm up.  So delicious.

We watched an electric play scene, then Master and two women, one sub and the other her Dominant/Mommy took me into a side room and S. beat the crap out of me while Master did the same to the other sub.  It was all good and extremely hot, until a few hours in when I looked around the room and suddenly had this weird captive feeling, like "This is the rest of my life right here. I will never get out of this room and this beating will never end."  It was freaky.  And frightening. But then we we cuddling on the bed and the pain was over. The knives were put away.  We scoured the room for lost condoms and ripped clothes.  It was late.  When Master looked at his watch, he realized we'd been in that room for more than three hours.   

Saturday, July 25, 2015

Our Two Chief Weapons

After this question was asked on a Fetlife group, I asked Master what his top five fetishes were.

He said "I just have one.  Control".

I got all squishy.

Then he added "And force.  Control and force, force and control.  Those are my two chief fetishes."

I was a little more squishy, but also he was making it sound like Monty Python.  A giggle was coming on.

He went on:  "And floggers.  I really love my floggers.  My three chief fetishes are control, force and floggers.  And a ruthless efficiency."  

Now I was laughing.  

"Four fetishes.  No.  Amongsty our weaponry are such diverse elements as control, force, floggers, fear, compulsion, ruthless efficiency and an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope."

 The Spanish Inquisition


Friday, July 24, 2015

Party party!

I'm really, really exited.  My friend and her Dom/Daddy are throwing their first play party ever this weekend and we are going to get to go!

 I thought we'd have to miss it, but Master's mom and step father (I guess that is the right word, thought they married well after Master was grown up) left earlier than she'd originally said.
Even though we also have a wedding to attend that day, the wedding is early, the party lasts late and they are near each other.  

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

What I Need (long)

The other night I had the brilliant idea of asking Master if I had any little hairs left from when I had hurriedly shaved.  I swear sometimes things pop out of my mouth bypassing my brain filter entirely. 

I lay on the floor with my legs open for inspection. 

He picked up his lighter.  "You might regret asking that".

I lay still as he told me, "No whimpering, be quiet now". 

I reminded myself that my cunt belongs to him and if he wants to burn it that is his decision.  For some reason that makes me relax just enough that I can make myself hold still.   At least until the first slight heat touches me and then I jump automatically.   He burned off a few hairs, but it wasn't going fast enough so he began yanking them out with his fingers instead.   I guess I did leave a few :(.  We had to get back downstairs.  I was good and quiet.

Later on that night, when our guests had gone, he told me to fetch him the cutting board paddle and be naked when I got back. 
 I started to turn around and bend over in front of him, but he told me, "No, face me.  Arms straight out to the sides."

I stood as he directed and he used the paddle on my breasts, my thighs, my arms, all over pretty much, before he directed me to turn around and bend over.  He gave me some solid whacks, then pulled me over his lap.  His hand felt good after the hardness of the wooden paddle.  Shortly he switched back to it though. 

He had me stand and started lecturing me about my handling of a situation earlier in the evening in which I had lost my temper.  How I should do better next time.  Each of his statements hurt twice as much as the paddle strikes that interspersed them.  I was crying when he stopped and tipped my chin up toward him.  He slapped me, twice, then told me I was forgiven.  One more tear, and I dried it up.  Forgiven. Relief.

He sent me upstairs to wait for him.  When he came in he ordered me to crawl to him and remove his shoes and socks.  I did so, gratefully.   I had been crying again, for the utterly stupid reason that there was a huge pile of clothes to sort sitting on the ironing board, and I just couldn't face the mess.  My mother in law brought a huge suitcase of clothes for me.  Some are the wrong color or size, and I just couldn't stand dealing with them or looking at them at that moment.  The reason isn't always the reason, however.

After I had undressed him, he ordered me to lie on the floor face down.  He beat me with the belt as I lay as still as I could.  I love his belt. He got me once right between the cheeks, which stung for a good long time. He rolled me over and whipped my cunt lightly with the belt, then he got down on the floor with me and brought the flame of the lighter between my legs.  
I was resigned to my fate by now.  I was a bit out of my head, or something.  Anyway, I barely remember what happened.  

When he was done with that he told me go get my turquoise silk slip and put it on.  That slip.  It is pretty and comfortable and real silk, and I can still wear it over twenty years later.  He told me he wanted me to think about the one who gave it to me.  It wasn't him.

 There is some history here, perfect for sadistic exploitation.  Back in college he kind of a thing for this one girl that I disliked. She tried to seduce him at least once.  Also, she was dating our roommate for awhile, and spent a lot of nights over at our house.  We lived in a three bedroom house with 2 or 3 others back then.

She gave me this silk slip as a wedding shower present.  
Later on she told my Master privately that every time I wore it she wanted him to think of her. He told me about that incident, but not until twenty years after the fact, and my thought was 
"Ha, what a bitch! I knew it."

As he fucked me that night, I was wearing that slip for him, and he described going to see her, described in detail fucking her after she seduced him, then coming home to rub his cunt-smelling dick in my face.  Rubbing my face in my status as property with no say, no rights.  None of this ever happened, but as a emotionally masochistic fantasy it is disturbingly hot for me to imagine.   
I feel so lowly, so owned, so powerless.  It is a huge turn on.

Then he turns me over to fuck me from behind.  It feels so good, hits so right on that one spot, I never want to stop, and he is getting close to coming, but asks me if I've had enough fucking.  

I answer, as I have to, "Whatever you want, Master".   He asks me again; then I'm allowed an opinion.  I say I would like more fucking please, Master.  He makes me beg.  And beg some more.
He tells me there will be a price for more. Greedy cunt.  I have a ruined orgasm.  It's a set of contractions and release of tension without the pleasure. He doesn't tell me the price, he just goes on fucking for a long time and I don't find out what it will be until the next morning.

When I have to describe the above fantasy for him.   
Worth it? Oh yeah. 

Monday, July 20, 2015

Familial Humiliation: The Best Kind (Where is that sarcasm font?)

Master's mother and step father both came over this morning.  They had a hotel room last night.  But they were over this morning again (arriving right in the middle of our morning fucking so we had to scramble up.  Master came on my face anyway- heh). 

After showers, I was doing some laundry, and had dropped a sock on my way down to the basement laundry room.  Master picked it up and told me to catch it.  When I did, and everyone was looking at me, I also caught Master's raised eyebrows and significant look.  I shook my head and stomped my foot, but he cleared his throat meaningfully and gave me that insistent glare across the table.

I knew what he wanted.  

I was dreadfully embarrassed (I embarrass easily in front of people) and I tried to scuttle off, but I was pinned again by his gaze until I gave him what he wanted.  

In my quiet, squeaky Dobby voice I said "Master has given Dobby a sock.  Dobby is a free elf now."

I guess this was hilarious to all present.

Later on when we were alone he told me "Of course that doesn't apply to slave cunts like you.  You will never be free."

That is a Hallmark card right there.


Sunday, July 19, 2015

Craving Punishment

This is one of those unfathomable things to me, since I don't really want trouble (or do I??), but sometimes I crave punishment worse than a chocoholic craves that next candy bar. 

 I see it my head, but it rarely (very rarely) happens.  I don't act up for punishment, but I wish I could. I don't do it because it never works out well for me.  Acting up doesn't get me what I want.  Instead, I end up with what I don't want.   But I continue to imagine it.  
 I see him in my head turning on me with a glare after a cheeky remark, his hand comes up and slaps me hard.  Maybe he grips the back of my hair first and then slaps me, to make sure I don't get away.  Or I'm watching him put on his belt and I imagine instead he tells me that I haven't been attentive enough, or have been too saucy, or I got sloppy with one of my tasks, or his shirts were wrinkled, or anything really,  and I am going to be punished.  The belt comes down really, really hard.  There is no orgasm, no sex, nothing but that belt, and his orders to do better in the future.

This is the random stuff that has been running through my head all the time. 

Saturday, July 18, 2015

Soulhuntre's Reply on Household Tasks

When a slave is nominally in charge of the household tasks, sometimes the desire to "do it right" takes over the desire to be submissive and accepting, and so a question was asked by someone with this issue. 

This answering post was written by Soulhuntre (Blog link) on Fetlife, and I found it useful to my mindset at the time, so I saved it and asked him if I could reprint it here.  He said yes, so here you are:

This is something that is pretty common. Fortunately the techniques to help resolve it are not that complex... they aren't necessarily easy, just not complex.
The real problems stem from this...
I run the general household. So I get pushy with bills, I gripe about laundry and stuff (although He's the cook, and He's excellent).
There is nothing about running the house that requires being "pushy" or "griping". Ever. What is happening is that you are getting your frame wrong.

Often when a servant is given an area of contextual authority they tend to take it on as "theirs", that sense of propriety can lead to a conflict when the source of that authority is seen as not helping, interfering or downright being an obstacle.

Part of this problem stems from the bargaining many owners do when they assign tasks like that. They will say something like "you take control of the laundry, and let me know what system you use and I'll conform to that to help." When they d not conform to that system (put their clothes in a hamper or whatever) the servant now feels like a agreement has been breached or there is behavior that needs to be corrected.

Here's the trick - you are never doing "your" laundry - you are ALWAYS doing "his" laundry. He is never failing to conform to "your" methods, he is just not at this moment helping you by doing so. You must remember the source of your temporary authority, and remember he has the ability to supersede your wishes, even in this area.

Whenever someone in my house has areas of authority like this, their authority ends at informing me of any impacts of my actions. And I never tolerate insolence, sarcasm or griping when they do so.

Don't misunderstand, I love sarcastic people and all of my servants are quite funny, sarcastic and at times prone to "biting" remarks... the issue is that they know when it is appropriate. You will not "lose yourself" by learning when to control your tine, you will not suddenly turn into a humorless, will-less zombie simply because you don't gripe about housework difficulties.

Second Tattoo

For my birthday coming up, Master is giving me a second tattoo.  I've been hankering for a second one ever since I got the first one, was it two years ago, I think?

He wants me to pick what I get, and though he has certain restrictions -nothing too fetishy obvious in places that people are going to see when I'm clothed, I have a lot of choices here.

  I would have liked him to pick something, and he wants me to pick it, so we are working on coming up with ideas together.  I have pretty much decided on the location- the upper thigh, since I want to be able to see it without a mirror, but I don't know about words, or a picture, or both.   I have a few weeks to decide. 

Friday, July 17, 2015


Last Sunday the scale showed me gaining two pounds, so I'm receiving two daily punishments, which hasn't been that bad (mostly- sometimes he really drags them out long!). 

But since we are eating out so much this week, and because I was ordered to make pies, and of course to eat pies, he said I've got amnesty on the weigh in for next week.  I'm still hoping not to gain, and I'm still exercising, but I'm not holding my breath that hoping will offset chocolates, cake and pie and ice cream.  
Nom, nom, nom.   

Thursday, July 16, 2015

Out of the mouths of Mother in Laws

Master's mom is staying with us, as I mentioned a couple times.  

Today Master took the kids for haircuts while I made dinner, and he'd mentioned on the way home from the raspberry picking farm where we picked our 4 buckets of berries (and getting rained on gently the whole time), that he wanted me to pick beans and radishes for dinner.  I did so, even though it was raining, of course. 

During dinner his mom says to him "She was out there picking in the rain, and just slaving away.  That's real devotion!"  

LOL, go MIL, right?

I said "I think I should get a prize or something".  Master gave me a look that was definitely more "Or something" than prize.  

A Good Day

Yesterday I had a very good day.  I started feeling almost like a privileged free person (horrors!) as my Master's main instructions before he left for work, as I performed my gate opening and tit flashing for him, were to have fun with his mom.  

First thing, I went for my run (1.5 miles of running, 1.5 miles walking on the way back) and then did my chores with the sheep and yard.

 After getting cleaned up, I wore the new outfit mom-in-law brought me, a peasant blouse and skirt ensemble with is just my style, and she took us out to lunch, and then we looked at furniture (the kids love this, especially testing out the chairs that help people stand up -they were amazed that such things exist in the world) and I enjoy it too, though I would need to get Master's permission before buying anything).

Then back home for a rest before going out to dinner at a supper club with Master.  All of these are such rare treats, especially the eating out twice (and not having cooking and dishes!), but I was eager to have some alone time with him as well, to hear him call me "slavegirl" and perhaps do some other things to me.

We stayed up late, but after everyone else was asleep we discovered our room had been invaded by gnats again.  Rather than have another sleepless night with the vicious biting insects, we spent a good long time smashing them.  There must have been thousands, I'm not joking.  Stupid bugs. 

At one point Master was slapping them off the ceiling with my shorts and I told him it sounded just like a spanking taking place.

"Now we have an excuse if anyone hears us", I said, "We were just 'smashing gnats'"!

After most of the gnats were gone, Master told me to lie on the bed, and he brought out the misery stick and the lighter.  By turns he was beating and scaring me (and I found that the deeper of my brands is still VERY sensitive).  

Then he let me ride him, and as he fucked me, he held off my nose and mouth, which built up an unexploded orgasm several times over.  He let me come, then told me to get the Hitachi out.  I rode him again and used that happy device, waiting almost unbearably long before his next command to come, and then come again, and come again, and each orgasm was building on the one before until I had one that was painfully intense.  I was close to crying, and definitely listing off to one side of him when he told me to turn it off.  

He fucked me hard from behind, which felt utterly amazing after all those orgasms, and he came, pulsing inside me.

And no gnats bit me in my sleep!  

Today Master has the day off (a big vacation through part of next week).


Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Ughfhfhfh things to do

The upstairs part of the house is too hot, despite air conditioning, I'm crabby and stressed out, and Master's mom is coming to visit us tonight, so I've been trying to get everything ready and cleaned.  She's staying a few weeks.   

So far today I've made the kids clean their rooms (through much whining on the part of the little one),  I've cleaned out the shelves in the guest room and dusted and vaccumed in there and in the kids' rooms.  I'm working on laundry and getting sheets back on the bed. 

I cleaned both bathrooms, dusted the downstairs haphazardly, straightened up and somewhat de-kinked our bedroom (it is amazing how much stuff we don't really hide normally). 

I did my exercise walk, took the kids along and had to listen to the little one pout and whine some more (because I mowed part of the pasture of all things).  I sent Master a message saying I was beginning to regret children.

I cleaned some on the kitchen parts that needed attention. I cleaned out the fridge, which is one of my normal Tuesday chores.  

I scooped the yard of dog poop (this is a daily chore). 

I also tried to track down a package I ordered that never arrived.

It's only 11:00 and I still have to shop for food, do some computer tasks and sweep the floors, as well as finish the laundry and get the sheets put back.  

I should have written a nice post about the amazing attention Master gave me last night, but I sat down and this is what came out.


Sunday, July 12, 2015

Gnight of the Gnats by DM (Master)

I really hadn't intended to do it.  Friday had been the night of the gnats, when an entire cloud of gnats had come in through the screen and kept us awake for hours.  So Saturday night we were both so tired that all we wanted was bed.  But then she saw my eyes light on the lighter, and for a moment I saw a real flicker of fear in her eyes, so I had to, just had to play with her.  "Don't worry sweetie, I said," smiling down at her with my best Ramsay Bolton smile, "I'll never hurt you."

    First I made ksst lay on her back.  I picked up the lighter and told her how happy I was that it was out of butane; now I could use it to deliver a hefty spark.  I clicked it a couple of times so she could see the spark flash in the tip of the igniter, and described how I had accidentally zapped my self several times, and how much it had hurt.  I told her how I had to hold the lighter really close, so it was a good thing it was out of fluid, or she would get burned.  I held the lighter close to her nipples, and made little zapping noises, zzzt!  zzzzzt!

    As I did this, ksst wiggled and squirmed away while batting futilely at me with her hands.  "It gets them bound!" I hissed at her, then bound her hands through the headboard with the leather strap.  Pulling her hard towards the foot of the bed stretched her out enough that she could neither bat at me with her hands nor wiggle, and I went back to work.  Again I showed her the sparking ignition module while making happy zapping noises.  Again I rubbed the lighter over her breasts and naked tummy, then back up to pretend to light her nipples like wicks. Indifferent to her writhing and grimaces, I only smiled wider at her whimperings, and started clicking the lighter again.  Imagine my surprise when a rather robust flame shot out of the tip.  Ksst practically pulled herself into a ball, whimpering with sheer terror at the sight of this.  I snapped my fingers and she exploded into a frenzied orgasm that lasted literally for minutes.  The fucking was almost an afterthought.


I didn't expect the three brand marks he made to last this long; perhaps they will be permanent.  I would be fine with that. More than fine, utterly thrilled, actually. 

This is the front of my thigh.  I think it looks like a heart.

This is how the other two look today, 8 days later.  Sorry about the pantie lines.


Also, Master's lighter ran out of fuel so he bought a new one today.  Eeep.   He doesn't smoke and we haven't grilled out.

Saturday, July 11, 2015

KOTW: My First Leash Experience

My first time being led on leash in public (kinky public, but still) was the first time we went to Trysted Tryst.  We hadn't really been to any other big events, just some small play parties, and the leash was new.  It is just a chain dog leash from a pet store.

It was so exciting when Master clipped that leash to my collar.  I had that "I'm a real slave now" feeling all over again, an all over thrill.  I'm not sure it was even a sexual thrill, but it was definitely a subservient/property thrill.

 As we entered the crowded tent I realized it was getting more difficult to stay with him.  Walking through a crowd ATTACHED to someone, by something as delicate as a neck, is a whole different experience than just following along with him, when sometimes there can be a separation and people in between you.  I sure didn't want to accidentally clothes line anyone!  Or have my neck yanked hard.

The other thing I noticed about being on a leash is that people treat you differently.  When I thought about it later, I figured they expected me to have a different protocol with the leash on
 (I didn't), so they didn't address me anymore, only Master.  This didn't bother me, I just thought it was a curious effect.  When I started talking to people (and hugging people I had always hugged) all of them got a surprised look on their face.    

Being on a leash is still something I love to do as much as Master will let me, whether we are at a party or just sitting on the couch together.

  Kink of the Week

Friday, July 10, 2015

Things I Did Today

Things I did today:

Cooked breakfast
Worked (on the computer)
Posted things on Fetlife
Masturbated for less than one song on the radio
Paid bills
Cleaned the house
Trained one of the dogs on sheep
Went shopping
Went to the bank
Hid treasures in my mowed pasture maze for the kids to find
Filled up the dogs' swimming pool
Picked peas and radishes from the garden
Had a shower
Washed dishes

making dinner- noodles with red sauce, salad, radishes, peas, appetizer of crackers and cheese

Our wedding anniversary is today.  I got Master just the gift he wanted- I bought some rocks and patched up the holes in the driveway. That was Wednesday.  He seemed pretty happy.

Thursday, July 9, 2015

Master's Tease

Master had a half day today, and we went out for lunch to celebrate our anniversary, which is tomorrow (22 years!).

But first, I had to go upstairs to change out of my sheep herding clothes into my going out clothes.  He came with me to put on something different also.

He locked the door behind him, which is a signal that he had "plans" for me.  I stood waiting for him, half dressed, and he pushed me to my knees.  I undid his belt and pants, but when I went to grab his cock he slapped my hand.  Instead he stroked it himself, right in my face, inches from my mouth.  I figured he didn't want me to do anything until he told me, so I just looked up at him with longing. Then he grabbed my hair and pulled me to my feet.   He exposed my breasts, then slammed me back down to the floor and thrust into my mouth hard, just a few times (yummy violence!), before he pulled out and told me to get ready.

Such a tease!   

Waking Up

Waking up with a sore ass is one of the joys of hearty spankings!  I did this morning, for sure.  Master used the cutting board paddle to play a fun (for him) game, then made me think he was going to break my toes by tapping them with the cane and then suddenly slamming the floor.  

I jumped! 

The paddle game went this way:  I had to start counting down from 100 and he would hit me only after I said certain numbers.  I was supposed to guess the pattern.  At about 80 I guessed "Hit three times and then skip one?" which was wrong, but I couldn't find any pattern.  At 67 (or so) I guessed "random" which was correct, but he threw in a few more good whacks just to be sure before switching to the heaviest cane.  

He flogged me as I was on my hands and knees, which felt AMAZING.  It had been a while and I forgot how much I like that.

Then he let me suck him for a time, and sent me to get in bed.  But the beatings weren't done yet!

First, the misery stick, and after that he rolled me on my back and sat on my legs.  He grabbed the lighter and brought it down to my chest as if to light my nipples like candles!  No burns this time though.

A few punches to the tits, then he was fucking me and it was wonderful. 

 Master commented the other morning that he likes the marks I have from last Saturday.  I still have three red marks, one of which blistered pretty well.

Monday, July 6, 2015

Exciting Sunday Night. Plus weigh in.

Ok, not really.  We spent much of it snaking out a clogged drain.  Well, Master did all the work and I stood around handing him things and talking to keep him entertained.

We are still doing the weigh ins.  Last Sunday there was no change, and this Sunday, even with a 4th of July party at which I absolutely pigged out, still no change for me. This is good! No punishments!

  My walking and running has kept up the same approximate schedule:  18.6 miles the week before and 14.4 miles last week, with a couple of miles jogged in each. 

Sunday, July 5, 2015

It's Really Going to Happen!

At least as well as one can predict these sorts of things, it has been decided.  

We registered for Twisted Tryst, the big kinky camping event in August, and Master got together with another Dom who wanted plan this event for his sub as well, the "Gang Bang/Orgy".  Eeeee!

 So I guess it is happening!

Saturday, July 4, 2015

Skinny Red Head, Part 3 of fantasy

If you missed them:
Part 1
Part 2

I was shuttling quickly back and forth from kitchen to dining room, with little time to reflect on the afternoon's events until Master and his guests, their lust sated (for now), were enjoying their after dinner conversation. 

Today's events with the girl had brought back all those memories of the skinny red head with huge breasts whom Master had bought years ago.  She'd been totally untrained and rather wild.   The door to door slave salesman that left her with us had told my Master always to keep her naked, it was the only way to maintain her as a slave.   She was drop dead gorgeous in her natural state, so he had no problem with that recommendation.
The first day of breaking came quickly for her.  She behaved terribly, not submitting to Master or the others without injuring several of them in the process.  They finally managed to chain her down and have their way with her.  I felt no really connection to this wild girl, who had arrived barely three days before and had been in lock down ever since.  I knelt off to the side, watching her, amazed at her strength and spirit.  Finally though, she was quiet, just as the girl today had been at the end.

I washed but did not dress the red haired girl.  She wore only a chain collar.  She was unresisting, and did not cry or cling to me as the girl today had.  She served at dinner that night, naturally graceful but of course not trained in the finer details of service.

I helped her along with that, and also with the sexual aspects over the next few months.  She was very keen on those. 

Soon she was the model slave: beautiful, obedient, sexy, almost always graceful and compliant.  Master named her Bobbie for the way she bobbed her head to him obediently.

One afternoon as Bobbie was serving Master's tea, she was not quite as graceful as usual, and happened to trip and spill on him.  He yelled as the hot liquid spattered him, and then continued to yell at her as she backed away in fear, holding her hands up in supplication.

"You stupid, clumsy cunt! What were you thinking, spilling hot tea on me!  You were not thinking!  You did it on purpose!  I'm going to ring your bell upside down and backwards for that!" 

 He advanced slowly on her but she only backed away more quickly.  In frustration he removed his hard leather shoe and threw it at her.   The red haired girl, looking more beautiful than ever in her fear, caught it in her upraised hands.

She looked down at the shoe in amazement, beginning with a stutter but gradually growing more confident:

"M-master has given Bobbie a shoe.   Bobbie is free now".

And with a poof she vanished.  

We don't talk about the skinny red haired girl anymore.

But I still think about her. 

That Was Certainly Hot

Master was teasing me with the lighter again this morning.  The clicking, the flame, the way he plays with my mind drive me to distraction, whimpering and "Master, please..." in short order.

He put the hot lighter on my thigh and it left a little red sore mark.  It actually felt kind of nice though, like a good whack with a stick feels some minutes later.  He said "I want to brand your butt". 

I got all excited.  I don't know why.  Stupid masochist.

He told me to roll over, then he got the lighter (one of those camping/grilling ones with the long metal bit) really good and hot and pressed it to my backside.  Then he did the other side.  He told me to come as he was taking it off, and I did.  It was really hot. 

He took some pictures.  

Then we played a fun little game where I had to count down from 100, saying my arousal cue word with each number as he whacked me all over- thighs, ass, breasts, arms, face- with the big spoon.  I couldn't orgasm until I got to 0.   He put a leather strap around my neck and held it tight.   I said each number, though there was some confusion in the middle when he had to remind me what number I was on.   It was a huge squirty one after all that! 


Friday, July 3, 2015

SCC Prompts: Public correction and disagreements

 These are writing prompt questions from The Submissive Coffee Club:

 Do you have different expectations from someone who says they are dominant, and someone who says they are *a* Dominant?

I don't carry around expectations for other people in this regard.  If they are a good and decent person, fun to be with and kind, then I will want to spend more time with them.  If not, then I won't.  But I don't have a picture in my mind of what a dominant or someone who is dominant must act like.  They aren't MY dominant so it just makes no difference.   

How does your Dominant partner correct your behavior if necessary in public, while being discreet?

He just tells me quietly what he wants to say to me.  Sometimes where other people can hear, but mostly not.  He doesn't hit me or grab me or anything like that at the stores or other places like that.  If no one is around, he might.  There was the time at the library (back room) when I wasn't being quick enough to go and he pulled my hair slightly.  He hardly ever corrects me in public anyway, even verbally.  

What do you do when you feel like you’re being too needy?

I tell myself to chill out, calm down, and remind myself that I'm here for his desires and not vice versa.  

Prompt Set #126
- Is there any one thing you and your Dominant disagree about more often than anything else?

I can't really think of anything we disagree on often.
- How do you get past an argument?

I apologize for being a butt head.

- Do you think that it’s different from the way that vanilla couples resolve arguments?

Yes.  I don't hang on to my own viewpoint very long because I know it is my job to give in and to come to terms with what he wants.  There is literally no point in arguing when I know I won't win, so why not just give in right away?  

Thursday, July 2, 2015

Scared Shitless

Tuesday night was a night off. We both pretty much needed a day to go to sleep early after the events of Monday night.  My head had been swirling with thoughts of his lighter, and everything else he had done, all day long.   I even had a nap and then went to bed early.  Master was already asleep when I finished feeding the dogs.

Last night, I had no idea what to expect.  I did know to expect sex, since he told me he needed it, but otherwise, like usual, I was in the dark.

First he orders me onto the bed using the most objectifying language: "It gets a blanket and gets on the bed".  His tone and wording tell me I'm in for it, and I hop to obey with excited foreboding.   (Is excited foreboding even a possible thing?  I guess it is here.)

I kneel on the bed until he tells me what position he wants.  
A black strap across my eyes.  
The lighter.  
My legs are spread, trembling, wanting to close.
My hands are gripping the headboard rails tightly.
My stomach flips in fear.
He brings the lighter in closer so I can feel the heat.  He is saying stuff to me that I don't remember.  I only remember the feel of the lighter and fear that everything is going to go up -POOF- in flames. 

I was so careful shaving.  I took a tweezers to the little hairs that the razor (a new one) missed.  He doesn't care about that, he's just in it for the fun. 

When I feel the heat on my thighs I'm wishing myself far away.  Can I get out of my own head?  Can I even move a millimeter?  No, I'm very much present, and escape, even to a far away headspace, is impossible.  I begin to shake and cry.  I'm hoping he will be done soon.  I want it to be over.  After a few times of touching the hot lighter to my inner thighs and lips my crying stops and I have given up.  He asks if I want to be done with this.

I say, as I am required, "Whatever you want, Master."

He asks again, "I want to know if you want me to stop".

"Yes, Master, I want to stop this now."

He doesn't stop.  He brings the lighter in close again.  Touches my thigh.  I yelp and jump and he orders me to hold still. I still can't see because of the blindfold, but I felt the heat, here and there and all over.   He rolled me to my side and had me suck him, and still the lighter is clicking close to my hip.  I smell some burned hair, very distinctive, that smell.   
Periodically, he sets it down on the bedside table, and I have a moment of relief that he's done, but no.  

He finally fucks me, making me say things that I don't want to say, humiliating me.  I am still blindfolded with the strap.  I feel my way by touch into the different positions he wants.

Afterward he held me and I cuddled up against him, feeling so grateful and utterly dependent on him.

 He asked me if I was injured at all.  I began crying again, "I don't know, Master" I blubbered.  I didn't know.  He asked me several more times, in an unemotional, unconcerned way as if he just wanted me to realize it myself: "Are you burned? Do I need to get some creme?"   Finally my brain did a system check and I found no place that was hurting except my butt where he'd smacked it with the spoon (how did I leave that out? Oh yeah, fire!).  When he asked again if I was burned I said "No, Master".

  Dreamless sleep came surprisingly easy. I wasn't actually burned; there is not anything you can see on the outside, but he had well and truly fucked over my mind. 

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

Dessert To Die For

I have found one worth going on to my eternal rest, if it should come to that.

Pecan Cheesecake

I made this today, along with homemade pizzas, and was thinking the whole time "Jeez this has a lot of steps, it better be worth it."

And friends, it is worth it.  

Just a little update

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