Happy slave

Last night he sent me up to wait in the bedroom after I finished feeding and putting dogs to bed (luckily they don't require stories at bedtime).

As is the usual nightly ritual I got undressed, put on my leather collar and wrist cuffs and knelt to wait for him, this time hold the two new floggers on my knees.  I knew he was excited to try them out.  

I'm never sure of the passage of time, but it had to be more than five minutes and less than 15 minutes judging by the amount of stiffness in my knees.   I tend to go into an almost meditative and relaxed but anticipatory state as I wait.

He entered the room and I could feel more than see his smile on me.   It was like a caress. 

He took the floggers and pushed me forward onto my hands and knees with his foot.  He started rubbing them over my face and around my body with a twisting motion - think one of those car washes from the pre-touchless days.

I love the smell and feel of leather and was lost in pure sensation. 

Then he started lightly using them on me, gradually working up to harder and harder.

"Spread your legs".

I did, and every other blow was now directly between them on my cunt. 

"Stand up".

I stood, and there was more draping of the leather over my face, and flogging, and rubbing.  He pulled me by the hair over to the dresser so I could brace my arms against it.   This dresser and I spend a lot of intimate time this way together.   I have always loved this dresser.  It is the perfect height.  

He went fast and hard then, using both floggers in Florentine.   I was sweeping away and floating on pleasure and happiness.   There is some sting to them, and some thud since they are heavy cowhide, but mostly it is just good.

He jammed the handle of the flogger against my ass.  "Come" he commanded, and I did.  How I did!

More flogging, more orgasms. 

Then he put them aside and picked up the turning pole from the old miniblinds that I had saved.  He started working over my ass, thighs, arms, back, and hard.  It hurt, but I was floating away on the pain and it made me sigh more than want to scream.    More orgasms, shaking me.

"Get into bed now". 

I went where he told me, and sucked his cock, worshiped it really, thrilled for the privilege.   Then he gave me the Hitachi magic wand.  As soon as I touched myself with it I wanted to come but I put it off, waiting for his command.  "Wait", he said, "Wait".    "Master", I replied, partly in submissive acknowledgement and partly pleading.

After I don't know how long, riding waves of almost there, almost there, he told me to come, and then again, and again, maybe six or seven times one after the other.

"Now turn it off", he told me.   

We went to sleep then, after I told him he was the best Master ever.   I am one very lucky and happy slave.

In My Dreams...

This morning I heard the command:

"Slave, get up and make me breakfast".

I was fast asleep.   I tried to come to consiousness, but it wasn't working too well.  I tried to get to the side of the bed to get out of it but could only get one leg over the side.  I finally managed to open my eyes and there was not even a hint of dawn in the sky.

The rooster wasn't crowing either.  What time is it anyway?

I managed to sit up and squint at the clock-  it was 3:30.  Master is gently and deeply breathing in sleep.  

I get cozy again and try to go back to sleep.

I still don't know if I dreamed his command or if he was talking in his sleep.

This is not what is supposed to happen when you think of the man being in your dreams. 

Floggers!

The 19th wedding anniversary must be leather floggers, because this is what I bought for my Master for ours.   It was a bit late because it took me a while to find someone to make them, and then time for the making of course.  

They were custom made to suit his purpose (double flogging technique that he has so much fun with) by Whispers_of_Fire.   

I think they are just gorgeous.  

The Dynamic

I'm reposting this from a thread on Fetlife, because my Master read it and liked it.   It is my response to some specific questions.  

Dynamic is a good word, because it does change, has changed and evolved.

Here is the question, what is your dynamic like?

He is the Master, I'm his slave. So, he owns me, I'm his property from inside to outside, which gives him the right to do as he likes. We are also married and in love. He cares deeply about me and wants me to be happy. I feel the same for him.

How did you know that the dynamic you had would work for you?

I didn't. It just evolved that way, with him gradually taking more power and control and me giving it up.

What makes that type of dynamic work for you?

The less intense, part time or incomplete control dynamics did not work for me. We tried that for a few months, as a way of dipping our toes in. It left me unsure and confused. I just wanted black and white, he owns me, none of this negotiation or having power left for myself. He didn't want bedroom only submission either. He wanted to be in charge and have me do as he said. He still likes my input on things, but doesn't let that stop him from doing what he wants.

Is it different now than at the beginning your relationship? How did it change and why?

Yes, totally different. We started as an equal and pretty much vanilla couple.

As far as the parts of our dynamic that touch on sadism/masochism and punishment:

 I feel these are very much still evolving. He does not admit to being a sadist. That is, seeing pure pain and suffering does not turn him on. However, he does say that he gets great joy out of tormenting me. The fact that his torments turn me into a helpless puddle of wanton goo absolutely delights him. Even when they are painful torments. Especially when they are painful torments. He also likes the mental/emotional kind. The mindfucks.

I will admit to being a masochist, up to a point. Turned on by pain, yes, up to a point. Turned on by being forced to go past the pleasurable pain point, oh my, yes, even better.

We also have a punishment dynamic, which is a delicate thing to work with when I enjoy the force and the physical. But he manages it. There has been some trial and testing of things there.

Working at Home

Hank, waiting to be sent to gather the sheep

Yesterday Hank and I moved the sheep around, first to the yard, then when they got tired of eating there, to a woodsy patch for some browsing.   Finally we left them in this pasture, where the grass has started growing a bit now that we have had some rain..  Hank lives to work, and if there is a chance that sheep are in his future, he has eyes for nothing else.  I have seen a rabbit spring up under his nose in tall grass and he still focuses on the sheep with barely a glance for the bunny.

In the mean time, I repaired some fences that were sagging.  I put in new fence posts and stretched the fence back up again.  

I also spent a lot of time on the computer, and got into a minor amount of hot water with my Master for a joke I made. Yes, he reads everything I write. 0_o.  

  He thought my post was amusing, and he was not mad, but still felt he need to squash any rebellious thoughts I might be having with a good hard caning.  At least he didn't shove a handily pre-sharpened pencil where the sun doesn't shine first as he considered doing. 

Dungeon Saturday night

After the Wishing Tree burned we headed into the tent to get out of the rain.  We ran into a new friend who had offered to talk about canes and show his collection.    So of course these things had to be tried out.  On me.   It was really just a  casual demo, but I got hit with a variety of things from your standard canes and paddles to a scary-ass metal rod and a giant tire tread thumper.   Although I was expecting a demo, not a scene, after one particular hit I went deep into subspace.    If you haven't been there, it's kind of a state of altered conciousness.   There are floaty feelings, feeling no pain, or at least a lot less.   Things around you don't really register that well.  Sometimes I can't talk or walk.  This time I remained standing, but don't really think I was all there.   I followed my Master around.  He was talking to some people, but I had to ask him later what they were all saying because I just wasn't paying attention.   Evidently they were interested in dragon tails, a kind of a whip.   Master offered to show them his and let them try it.  Guess on whom?

So Master ordered me over to the cross, and started in with some delicious whipping.  I was really in the mood for that.  The other person tried it, but the blows felt more like swishes than stings.  That's ok, first time and all.    When they were done they had to tell me several times to get off of there since I was pretty zoned out.    More standing around vaguely after that.  I have no idea what they talked about or what was going on around us.  I was off in happy land.  

Things came back into sharper focus when Master was invited to join someone else's scene.  I just sat back and watched, but it was extremely hot.    Then he came to me and told me to get down and suck his cock.  I obeyed instantly, even though I'd never done anything that sexual in public before.   He had his hand in my hair and ordered me to cum.  I did, forgetting about all the people watching and just focusing on him and me. 

At some point during the night (and neither Master or I can remember exactly when) I experienced a single tail whip wielded by an extremely proficient whipper (is this the right word? I don't think so).  Master pulled me over to him and said "You're going to do this".    Yes, I guess I was, but I was scared and excited. 

   The friend started with popping it all around my ears, then with the barest of touches, then a little harder.  He asked how it was and I smiled and said "Really good, you can go harder".   So he did, moved it up to a little stingy and left some decorative marks in neat little rows on my shoulders.   He stopped before it reached a very painful level.   Just a taste.  To leave me wanting to come back for more.

Now we settled back to relax and cuddle by the heater for a while.   We watched what others were doing.  

Eventually, late at night, we watched this:

http://underhishand.com/twisted-tryst-in-the-middle


Saturday night was a great night. 

Drums and Fire

This a continuation of Saturday night at Twisted Tryst...

Drums pounded a primal rhythm.   A light rain started.   We were called in by the drums to a gathering circle of people around a dead tree piled all around with firewood and kindling.    Hearing the drums at night is a primal feeling.  It takes me back to how our caveman ancestors must have felt as they geared up for a great celebration, or perhaps an inspiration on the eve of a hunt or battle with their enemies.   The blood pumps in rhythm with the drums.  My feet moved on their own to pound the rhythm on to the ground.  

Someone was dumping kerosene all over the huge pile of dead wood.  Ok, not how the cavemen would have done it, but hey, times change.   A match is struck and the one holding it looks engulfed in flames as he jumps back from the huge fireball.   The wishes written on paper by campers and tied to the tree are carried up in the smoke to whatever heavens one believes in.  Including mine.   I'm not really thinking about my wish though.   The drums and the fire and the sparks raining down on us are hammering at me at a gut level, not a wishing/thinking level.   

We stand and watch for a long time, until the rain begins to get to us and we decide to seek out somewhere dry.   Off to the dungeon tent!  

What happened next

In response to the comment "What happened next?" from Advizor54,   I will attempt to write what happened later that night.   I'm glad I got everything in short hand down in my journal soon after the event, as there was a lot that went on that night (we stayed up until 2 am, much later than any other night of camp), and I tend to mix up and forget things after a while, especially things that happened while I was in an altered state (subspace- later on- I'll get to that eventually).  

After the formal event, we headed back to our tent so I could put on more clothes.  It was lovely weather during the day, but the night was too chilly for the outfit I was wearing (basically nothing, with boots).    Then we made a little trek around camp visiting with friends along the way.   At the far end, a friend suggested I try out the Sybian that had been causing shrieks and moans in the camp site next door all weekend.

  I was nervous.  It was very dark, and there was a crowd of complete strangers over there.   To me, just walking up and saying "Hey, you don't know me, but can I ride on your sex machine?" is the worst kind of social faux pas and scary as hell.   

If it had been just me, I would have quietly faded into the darkness and found other people I already knew to hang out with.  But my Master insisted that I was going to do this, despite my fears.   He's not shy, see. 

The people were perfectly delightful, and seemed thrilled that I wanted a ride on their machine.  We just waited for some others to finish up what they were doing- I'm really not sure what it was, but it involved a big machine and sounded very pleasurable.  

Soon it was all set (after Master selected a mid size attachment), and I stripped and hopped on.   Master held the controller and started out on low.   It was good.  Really good.  I moaned, I bucked, I begged him to make it go faster.  Moans turned pre-orgasmic.   I knew I should wait to cum on command, but the command wasn't happening and it didn't take long before I couldn't hold off any longer and began a long series of intense orgasms.  I couldn't tell where they started or stopped, or what I was saying or screaming or moaning.   It was quite the ride.  Master would slow the speed, but every time he did I just begged to have it turned back up to full speed.    I vaguely heard people talking in the background, enjoying watching me, but it was all just background and not relevant to my pure ecstasy.  

So, I feel like I made a new girlfriend that night.
Lady Sybian, I hope to spend time with you another day.  :)  

There's no ride like that at Disneyland, baby.

Then the drumming started...

A Formal D/s event

Last Saturday night we had signed up to go to a camp event called a "D/s formal".   I had no clear idea what this would involve, except that beforehand, by asking questions, I determined that there would be food, and no dancing, and "formal wear" and protocol were up to each individual or pair to determine for themselves.

   Nothing would be required of us that we didn't want, radical inclusiveness being the watchwords. 

We showed up dressed in our formal wear- Master in his regular clothes and me in a floor length see through gown with collar and leash.   The decorations in the tent that was normally a dungeon were beautiful.  I can't say enough about the gnomes who transformed things like suspension boxes and devices for restraining people into something having the feeling of a formal garden party, with a little kink thrown in here and there.  

Master got us some drinks and found a seat at a table.  I sat on a padded mat on the floor beside him, on the blanket I had brought.   After the first cool night I had started bringing a blanket to the dungeon for when it got cold later on.  

When more people had arrived he sent me to get a plate of food.   I picked carefully some things that I knew he would like.   We sat and chatted with friends who were at the table with us, while Master ate and fed me from his plate.   It was a great experience, and the food was just delicious. Those little tiny key lime pies- yum!    There were helpful server-volunteers who came around to clear plates and offer drinks, and the slaves or submissives at our table also did some of the clearing up.  

Afterward, the reverse transformation began, with decorations removed by gnomes and the dungeon returning to a functional torture-space.  

A Calling

Last night, in bed, my Master shared a revelation with me.

"I have figured out my life's calling",  he said, as he gave me break.

"What, tormenting me?" I asked, somewhat jokingly. 

"Yep." he said. 

Thoughts on Blood Play

Camp was the first time either of us has been around anyone playing with blood.   We don't do this ourselves.  We don't think it is a bad thing,  we're just not turned on by the thought.  Any blood that has been shed was from a hard, sharp blow and was relatively unintentional. 

I have to admit that it does turn me on to think of him carving something in me, but not because of the blood, just because of the sheer lack of control of my body that would allow me.   Prior to being a slave would I let someone cut me?   No F'ing way!  It would require an incredible amount of surrender from me, and one that I am willing to give.

My Master explained his thoughts on what we had seen and said I could share them.  In his mind, large amounts of blood is a bad thing.  He deals with cutting open living things, blood, and things of that nature every day.  In his world his job is to stop the bleeding.  Any time there are large amounts, or piles, of blood, this is a bad thing.  It's not disgusting or frightening to him, but it means that things are not going well and he needs to fix it.  Seeing the blood play at camp shifted him from play mode to work mode.  It seemed like a bad thing.  So he walked away.   


My first response came directly out of The Onion:  "Passersby were amazed by the unusually large amounts of blood."     Actually that was my second and third response too. 

The Last Hurrah, or Holy Fuck-- OW!

Today I'm going to pick up the kids in Madison, in just about an hour I will leave, in fact.  First, coffee, though.   I sure have missed them. 

So last night was the last chance we will have to really go all out and make some noise while playing, and Master certainly made the most of it.   There was hardly anything that left new marks, but one can cause a lot of ouch without leaving marks-starting with spanking and ice in my cunt, to flogging/dragon tailing on my cunt, to bondage stress position, to some hard fucking that I think left it a bit dented, it was all wonderfully painful.   I was well into subspace by the time he untied me.   

I passed out/feel asleep immediately we were done, and then woke up a few hours later from the soreness still lingering.

A good last hurrah, I would call it.

Some of my Master's thoughts

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Co-conspirators on the Mind Fuck

Sunday.  The last day of camp.  I was dreading the end, dreading having to leave fantasy sex camp and go home to real work and life.  

Closing ceremonies would be held in the middle of the day, then we'd pack our stuff and go.

All morning my Master was acting suspiciously.   He kept vanishing while telling me to stay at the campsite, then he'd come popping out of a trailer across the way.  He had that plotting look.   There were significant glances to some of our friends.    I asked what was going on. 

"Oh, nothing". 

Right, sure.  I kept that comment in my head, though.

The closing ceremonies were emotional.  I'm sure I was not the only one feeling a little damp eyed at times.   They played the camp theme song "One Tribe" by the Black Eyed Peas.  I was inspired to ask if I could climb into Master's lap and give him a dance.  Yeah, my inner slut is seriously slutty.   I was humping all over his leg.    The great thing about camp is that no one blinks at this.    Acceptance.  Freedom from society's proprieties.   The song describes the atmosphere perfectly. 

One Tribe Ya'll

After the ceremony Master snapped a chain leash on my collar and there were hugs for all our friends, new and not so new.    Walking on a leash through a crowd is a skill that I'm still working on (well, how many opportunities does one have to practice such a thing?  Only at camp.)  but I managed not to strangle myself or clothesline anyone. 

We headed back to the campsite, which had accumulated something of a crowd,  and he threw a blanket over one end of the picnic table and told me to strip and  bend over it.   I did and he stretched my neck a bit with the leash.

This is where my memory becomes a bit fuzzy.  I believe I was whacked with a few things, mostly a cane.  I know I came, and squirted on command and was dripping all over down my legs.  Behind me someone made a comment about that being hot (Scott possibly?).    MistressSassyV said she was itching to try out her new toy,  a Mickey Mouse plastic paddle, and that she really wanted to break it over someone's ass.   Master, generous soul that he is, offered up my ass for the paddle breaking.   After a few of her swats I muttered "Fucking Disney" and was chided for dissing the Mouse.  I also got a souvenir Disney sticker on my boob. 

At some point I heard Scott behind me mention doing some cutting on me and I heard the sound of his knife click open.  What does that tell you about camp that  I recognized  the sound of his knife? 

Then I felt the scratching on my back.   Later I found out it was my Master's car key.    Ohhhhh my.

 After an undetermined amount of time and sensation I was pulled to my feet by Master and there was this hot naked girl, a good friend, standing ready,  and some rope.   We were tied facing each other with a "happy rope" also between our legs, and then our arms tied together.   There was rubbing with rabbit furs by another good friend (our Prom Queen)  who had topped me in a scene at the dungeon Friday night, and there was flogging, and caning, and cropping by both her and my Master.  They switched back and forth between us and I mostly had my eyes closed so I didn't know who was doing what.

   There was biting, scratching, orgasms, the happy rope pulling our bits this way and that as we moved and struggled.  Then there was the ice in my cunt, ohhh good god.   There was teasing with a water bottle at my lips where I could almost get a drink, and get some water spilled down my chest.   Someone (Master?) dumped a large volume of cold water over us, making us jump and strain at the ropes. 

Eventually we were released and my Master bent me over the cooler and fucked me.  All around I could hear bits and pieces of various conversations.  It was surreal.   

It was a beautiful scene of lust, pain and sensations.    This is what camp is all about.   I am so grateful for my Master for letting me go to camp and to him and everyone who made it such a fantastic experience.  

Camp

If you have been to Twisted Tryst, you already know, and I don't have to tell you.   If you have not been, I'm sure I'm not a gifted enough writer to explain it.  

I'm going to start with two stories, and then as I process more of my experiences I will try to share more.   I can't mention names, as that is against the rules.   

We pulled in late Thursday night, apprehensive, tired and not sure of where to go or what to do.  We were met at the gate by lovely people, who called us an escort to help us find registration.  After that we had another lovely escort to our tent site.   Master knocked on the door of our neighbors (who we knew only from internet-land) and introduced himself to them.  The neighbor came out an offered us extra light and help setting up our tent.  A couple of our poles were broken (and, yes, I was rebuked for not checking the tent over before the trip like I had been told to do).    Our neighbor set to work fixing the poles for us with his supply of manly tools/supplies.

Soon our tent was up, our bed was made, and we immediately headed off to the dungeon tent (where else?) which was way bigger than I ever dreamed.

My second story was from breakfast time on Saturday.    Master enjoys campfire cooking, so he did all of it,  while I fetched and carried.   He usually made enough food to feed anyone who dropped by and still have leftovers to feed to passing or visiting dogs belonging to people who stopped by.   Even one very mercenary dog who would only eat bacon.

After we ate, I was washing the dishes using two big buckets of hot water, also heated on the fire.  One for soap, and one for rinsing.   A bunch of people were sitting around the picnic table and lawn chairs chatting.  The topic of marks came up, and Master wanted to show off his work, so he told me to take off my clothes.  I proceeded to whine about how it was too early in the morning and too chilly to be naked and he got a little stern and told me to do it anyway, and then give a spin for everyone to see.    And then do some jumping jacks for whining.

"Fuck" I said slavishly, under my breath, as I did a few half-hearted jumping jacks, feeling utterly humiliated in an undeniably hot and sexy way.  See, I get off on that.  

I stood there, head drooping, while a few helpful people commented that my jumping jacks were really not very enthusiastic.   I asked to put my clothes back on.  "Go ahead" said my Master.  I dressed and went back to washing dishes.   Everyone went back to their conversations.

Gods, I loved camp!   I could just live there. 

Our Bags Are Packed and We're Ready To Go

We'll be heading out tonight to Twisted Tryst.   We have a farm sitter, the bags are packed, the (very small) toy bag is packed.  

I had a triple shot espresso for breakfast and I feel like I could levitate right off the ground, vibrating from caffeine and excitement.  

This is what I need right now to calm me down:

Fucking While Looking at Corn

Master has been saying he wanted to do me in the garden as kind of a fertility rite (for the garden, not me) for at least 10 years- ever since we have been planting a garden.

Today I was innocently playing on the laptop when he walked by and grabbed a hank of hair, pulled me up and threw me over the couch.  After a quick, and initially rather dry (until I came) shagging, he told me to get a blanket because we were going out to the garden.  I wrapped up in the blanket and hurried on out with him.   It is a beautiful day to be outside, lying on my back under the corn stalks, getting fucked senseless.   I ended up half off the blanket with all sorts of dirt in my hair.    Ahhhh.

After he was done he said these cornstalks would be good ass whackers.   Unable to muzzle myself, I disagreed, saying they were too flimsy and would never hold up.  Well, he was right, I was wrong, which he made me admit and not only that, but also apologize to both him and the corn as he whaled on me with a corn stalk.    Stupid mouth, why don't you just stay shut sometimes?  

After that, super fresh, super sweet corn for mid afternoon snack was delicious. 

Playing Strip the Willow

This is the Strip the Willow that I knew:

Strip the Willow

I adore dancing, especially the kind that is organized in groups where you know what you're supposed to be doing, rather than just flailing around on a dance floor (although I can and will flail if I have to).  Strip the Willow is a great dance because you end up completely dizzy and hanging on to partners for dear life to hold you up, even without drinking.  With drinking, ho boy! 

However, yesterday I experienced a different type of willow stripping.  A couple of weeks ago my Master told me he was going to have me cut him a willow switch.    This was just in  a "by the way" manner, not an order to go cut one now. 

So finally yesterday I went to the woods and broke off a branch about 4 feet long, 1/4 inch thick,  and got a knife to strip off the bark.  

I had mixed feelings, sitting there on the porch, stripping bark and whittling off sharp knobby bits while I watched the sheep grazing in the yard.   I couldn't tell if I was feeling happy to be doing something my Master wanted done, worried because I knew what he was going to do with the switch, or tingly excited because I knew what he was going to do with the switch.  Some of each, I guess.

When Master got home he was quite taken with his new toy, and during our evening movie he used it intermittently to lightly slap my ass, flanks, inner thighs and cunt.  After the movie he told me to lean over the couch arm and gave me some stinging welts on the butt and backs of my thighs.  The tip broke off the stick, but it held together in the main part. 

It is good.  :) 

What does a schedule look like?

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Not so slavey

Me: (after trying to drain one drop out of my completely empty teacup, out of which I'd had a couple sips).   You drank all my tea.
Him: Yeah. You should have filled mine up again sooner.
Me:  Oh, would you like another cup?
Him: Well, yeah.

So off to the kitchen I go to fetch more tea for him, feeling not such a good slave after neglecting the refills.  Now I'm back, still with my empty tea cup.

It's Monday!   I woke up early, had a nice hard fucking, went to work.  I was looking forward to having lunch with Master, but he had a lunch meeting (slave not invited) so I went for my walk alone.  After work we went out to dinner, and had a pretty romantic time of it.  He shared his drink with me.  

Then for added romance in our evening we went to Gander Mountain to look at camping supplies.  Most of the stuff on the list he decided we could get cheaper at Fleet Farm.  But we did pick up a lantern and a tent dome light.   I also got whapped on the butt with an implement of sandwich toasting.  He grabs it and says "Hey, this has some weight to it, I bet it would be good.  Come over here, now turn around."     

The store was pretty empty, so I was fairly well squeezed etc. before we got out of there with our lights.

The way home was entertaining too.  

Fulfilled

This is something I wrote a while ago. 

When you lay me down
And sternly whisper harsh words
My wrists pinned, your hand

Hard up against me,
Ecstasy, scattered, undone,
Lost but held by you.

Kneeling, naked,
Tightly held,
Head arched back,
Face upturned.

Eternity is between the blows.

Afterward I come down on
Trembling, shaking legs,

My heart fluttering, pounding,
Alone again.

Still the marks prick me
I feel your touch on me there,
Thrashing and beating,

How you made me beg
In desperate pleasure used,
My deep need fulfilled.

 I love rope.  I love being tied up, restrained, held down.  Legs tied in the air.  Hands tied together or spread apart.  I just love it.    Our bedroom ceiling is very accommodating in terms of attachment points. 

Sweet words

Three of the sweetest words in the English language:

"Come upstairs, slave."  

Fun and games

Because fun is fun, and fun is good, Master invented a new game last night.   Two games, really.   The first was slave roping.   He told me to go hide in the house somewhere, and he'd find me and catch me.  I didn't hide very well.  Hey, I wanted to be caught!

   When he found me, I was just standing in the corner of a dark room and he looked disappointed, saying

 "Are you kidding me? That is a terrible hiding spot."

While he was uncoiling a rope I darted out the door past him and ran down the stairs-- slippery, sneaky slave that I am.  Then we started chasing all over the house with him throwing the rope over me and me squiggling out of it and giggling maniacally.  

See, those steers in the roping contests wouldn't be caught so easily if they were able to throw the lasso off with their hands like I can.  Ha!

Then he switched to the other (fun?) item he had brought with him that I hadn't noticed before.  It's a 4 piece of leather thong that snakes out and pops and stings like a whip.   He was chasing me round and round the house, which has a circular plan through the kitchen and dining room, both of us laughing and me yelping every time the strap caught me on the ass, or thigh or back.   Yelp, giggle, yelp, giggle, yelp!   Round and round until we were both out of breath.

With me barely able to breath, he managed to get a rope around my wrists.  As I was struggling to get out of it he did that fancy leg swipe wrestling move and took me down with a hard thump on the wood floor.  I was a bit stunned for a second and stopped struggling, but he complained that I wasn't fighting very hard, so I resumed trying to wiggle away.  

I made my escape once more, but not for long...

Where would the fun be if he didn't catch me in the end?     :).   

Bits and pieces

The sheepdog

The sheep

What I am doing today?  Watching sheep eat.  I took my dog and blanket and camera out and let the sheep munch away in some unfenced areas of the property.

I'm also getting very excited to go to camp next week.  It's not sheep camp- it's kinky camp. Twisted Tryst, actually.  We have never been; this will be our first big kinky event, and I am oh, so excited.  I know other people who are going, but I don't really know what to expect.  Well, I sort of know what to expect.  My Master says first he's going to take all my clothes and then have me run around naked, or nearly naked, for the whole time (3 days).  I'm going to make sure to bring and wear lots of sunscreen.    We're going to be sleeping in a tent, cooking over a fire, and having a lot of sex and other kinky fun.  I can't wait! 

Life is just one big adventure!

Property

"Slaves need to be beaten regularly--not as punishment, it's better if there is no particular reason, except to remind the slave of who and what he is.  It's hard to stay focused on the idea that you're property, and a good beating brings that home to a slave's mind in a very direct and unmistakeable way.  Most slaves come to enjoy their beatings and to miss them if the routine is interrupted.  In fact, it's a form of abuse to deny them that discipline, because nothing else seems to reinforce the special bond between Master and slave... as well as a regular, expected beating." 

From "In Service" by David Stein, as part of the Marketplace series by Laura Antoniou

This is quoted from a work of fiction, but this paragraph sums up very neatly the feelings of my Master and myself on this topic.  

Rain!!

It's raining today, and it's glorious.

 Maybe not so exciting for many people, who are just happy the flowers and yard are getting watered.  But our pasture is so dry there is nothing there.  I have to take the sheep out to the woods and sit with them, using a trained sheepdog to keep them from wandering, just to make sure they are getting enough to eat.   This can be a good time for relaxing and meditating, but really, how much relaxing and meditating does a person need?   I don't dare take Master's laptop to the woods in case it would get leaves or something in it, or get stepped on by a sheep, and we don't have any smart phones or whatever.   Reading a book is difficult, because I don't dare get too involved in the plot lest the sheep get too far away, and out in the road or lost in the woods. 

Then I feel like Little Boy Blue

Little Girl Blue come send your dog
The sheep are in the road and the cows are in the bog.
Where is the girl who looks after the sheep?
She's got her nose in a book, way too deep.

Ben watching the sheep eat

A little secret

Master let me in on a little secret tonight after I asked him why some people have these big old bruises from paddling and caning and I rarely have any. 

He said  "I'll let you in on a secret.  I don't hit you that hard."  

 I whined, just a bit.

 "Why does it hurt so much when you do it then?  And how do they even stand it so much worse?"  I'm thinking I'm just a big wimp.    He mentioned something about warm up and endorphins which I did already know, but I was thinking dreamily back to this afternoon:

 I was on my knees and he was striking me with a crop and it hurt.  A lot!   There had been no warm up, and he hit over and over in the same place.  I was squirming, not really trying to get away, but just squirming because I couldn't hold still.   Another few dozen hits and I was crying.   He let me go back to cocksucking, and then he took me into the other room, put me over the arm of the couch and fucked me.  That also hurt, I was getting that "bottoming out" feeling, but it was a good kind of hurt.  He was done kinda fast, and told me to go put on the next disc (Game of Thrones).   I couldn't walk at all..  My legs felt shaky.   I crawled over the carpet to the TV and put the disc in.  At that point my stomach, which has been iffy since yesterday, went into dire cramps, and I crawled back to the couch.  I didn't even bother putting my glasses on, just lay with my head in his lap feeling utterly miserable.

He went and got some medicine for me, and a glass of water.  After a few minutes my stomach calmed down and I was able to relax and enjoy being cuddled, and watch the movie. 

About half way through the first episode he started fondling me, and now that I was feeling better I was ready for more also.  I asked him, "Master, can I touch my cunt?"   "No", he said.  He kept teasing me until I was in a state, then told me to get across his lap. There is a certain utterly helpless feeling I get when in that position.  More spanking, more orgasms, more fondling.     He had me move off and turn around to make more room for the swinging arm, and he used the cane on my backside.  I was crying again shortly.  Maybe I'm sensitive today, but ow, did it ever hurt.   Then he fucked me again.  This time was long, thorough and with many orgasms.   How to make one very happy ksst.    

After a shower and doing some work with the sheep, I went with him on a job he had to do.  It was two hours work, and I waited for him in the car.  I brought the laptop and my book for entertainment.   Then we went out to a very delicious dinner.   I'm happy to say that my stomach was good and didn't cause me any more trouble. 

I sure do enjoy Wednesdays. 

Wednesday

Yes, it's Wednesday, and my Master only works half the day today.  So I'm getting all my stuff done, and waiting for him to get home.   Perhaps more posting later.

Feeling It

Back of the thigh exclamation mark

There has been some discussion of needing to feel the active dominance of one's Master in order to be content and fulfilled as a slave. 
Some get this need met by acting up, acting bratty, and needing to be punished.  That doesn't work for me.  It feels wrong, and anyway when I do a little teasing he just laughs at me.

There are many things that make me feel his dominance throughout the day, and not all of them leave marks.  In fact, most do not. 
When he tells me to get up and make breakfast even though I'd rather lie in for a cuddle, when he tells me to get his tea, when he gives me lists of chores, when he punishes me if I forget one, when he drags me upstairs by my hair, when he says "No" to me when I ask for something, all these things do it for me.   Each stroke of the cane, or belt, or whip tells me that I'm his.  When it goes beyond what I think I can stand, it tells me I'm his. 

I'll just say that I am very much feeling it.  

Chores

Some, who are not slaves, seem to think that being a slave is all about getting thrown on the floor, beaten and having kinky sex.  While that is part of it for some of us,  it is also about getting things done which may not be fun or sexy.    I have to admit I do get a certain amount of thrill out of completing my Master's set tasks even when they are not at all interesting, just because he told me to to them. 

Each day I'm at home alone, I have a list of chores to get done.   Thanks to a friend, I now have a computer reminder system that is cute, fun and easy to use, and based in Firefox, so it pops up at me regularly.   I have a terrible memory, so this is working great, as long as I remember to enter the chores into the system.   If I miss a chore, there will be punishment, so I try hard to get them all done. 

Here is my list for today from my Master:

Wash sheets, make beds again
Scoop dog poop from the yard
Take my Nitty Gritty Dirt Band CD back to the library
Return a borrowed book to the YMCA
Clean out the garbage cans

He gave me one optional task and made sure to let me know that if I didn't want to do it he would do it later and it would not be a required task.  
This was to fill out health insurance forms.
 
In addition, I have things that have to get done which are not on his list, but are on my list such as feeding and watering animals, cleaning the house, writing a blog entry (doing!), gardening etc.

Cheers everyone!  

3.1415926

Because some things need music: 

Mathematical Pi song

Today we went to work and there was pie.  Someone had brought me a belated birthday pie.  It was apple, which I love. 

The thing is, about two weeks ago I happened to mention that I wanted to lose 10 lbs.  The next morning Master said first thing, bright and shiny in the morning "We're going on a diet".  Since then I have given up sweets, chocolate, bread and most carbs.   He also decided that anything that came out of our garden was ok for the diet, so we're eating a lot of vegetables, and meat and cheese.  Last night we walked a little more than two miles and he made me jog.  Jog!  I tell you!  This is not what I signed up for.   I have lost about 4 lbs.though, which is exciting.

So the pie was sitting there taunting me all day.  At lunch I asked Master if I could have pie.  No, guess not.  But then just to be a big meanie he starts whispering "Pie, pie, pie" to me and one of the people at work asked him if I wasn't going to eat any.  No, we're on a sugar free diet, he says.   And continues to whisper "Pie, pie, pie" at me whenever I'm close enough to hear him.   Evil, evil man. 

A Small Dilemma and Some Ass Sex

I got up this morning and it was chilly, actually chilly, since we had the windows open.   I had a bit of a slave-type dilemma then, since my Master's rule is that when I'm in the house I am to be naked.    This rule is temporary, because when our kids get home from visiting grandma and grandpa, it will not be possible.   But for now, it is the rule.

That doesn't sound like a dilemma, you are thinking.   But I knew if I told him I was cold, he'd let me put on a robe.  He really is very reasonable.  At 80 degrees, naked is fine.  At 60 degrees, it really is not and he is a realist.  He also doesn't want a shivering, miserable slave.   

The dilemma came in because he was still asleep and he also has a strict rule about not waking him up, unless it is an emergency.  Some things that do not qualify as emergencies:   slave being excessively horny, and slave being cold and unable to put on a robe without asking. 

So I made the decision based on what I thought he would want, which was to put on the robe and leave him sleeping.  Then when he did come downstairs I asked if it was all right that I was wearing a robe because I was cold.  And he said it was fine.  

I got him his tea, and sat with him while he played Civilization 5, with me only mentioning once how it would be fun to go upstairs and fuck, you know,  if he wanted.   He was content to play with me casually with one hand and play the game with the other.   He made me come standing there bent over the table with his hand rubbing me.  And come again. And again.  Then told me to go up and get the vibrator.  I did, practically skipping up the stairs and back.  

I still only had about half his attention as he cursed the game and moved his units around with one hand while using the other on me.  I held the vibrator to my clit and waited for his command.   Sometimes he'd give it right away, other times I would be hanging on to the edge, about to tip over into an orgasm, but holding it off, hanging on tight to my self control to wait for the command to come.    I don't even know how many I had.  I find it hard to count so unless I am ordered to I don't worry about the numbers.

Finally, he said, go upstairs and wait for me on the bed.  I zipped up there in a hurry.    Master was right behind me, positioned me on the bed the way he wanted, on my back, and thrust in.   At the same time he gave me the command to come, and I did.   Again, and again he commanded it. I complied.. He brought out the Hitachi, which can make me orgasm in like 0.5 seconds or less, and held it against my clit.  I still had to hold off until he gave the command, which was a pure torment.   It probably wasn't a long time, but it seemed stretched out to eternity. 

Then his raised one of my legs to his shoulder and slipped his finger into my ass.   Oh fucking goodness, that was excellent.  He started commanding more orgasms, one immediately after the other until it was just one continuous huge wave of pleasure.    I didn't even feel inside my own mind anymore, I just was pleasure, that's all.    Then he pulled out and told me to roll over. 

I did, and he got ready to fuck my ass.  He told me to come just as he made the entrance, which did not do good things for me.   You know, hopefully, that the ass tightens during orgasms, and tightness and dick entrance at the same time bring pain.  I screamed.  I always scream, I can't help it.   "No, no, no, don't make me come again," I was begging.   Then he was deep inside, and I was still screaming, moaning, whimpering,  but my "No, no, no" was turning to "Yes, yes, yes", and it was good.  Beyond good, actually, the kind of amazing that takes me completely out of myself.     My Master finally came himself and rolled off me. 

After a brief and very heavenly period of zoning out snuggled up against him he said it was time to get up and shower.  We had gardening to do!  

The next chapter

Written June 2012
The above (Beginnings) was written in January of 2012, so I thought I would write a little update on things I have learned as a slave since then.

     Numbers one and two would be patience and acceptance. Being a slave is often all about these two things and I didn't have much of either of them when it came to my new found masochist desires. However, being a slave rather than a bottom, and having an Owner rather than a service top, often has meant that what I want doesn't always happen. I need to have the feeling that my desires are not the most important thing, because to me that is more deeply satisfying than thinking I can get whatever I want at the moment. I can now accept that with patience and acceptance rather than with unbearable frustration.
Being frustrated and unhappy doesn't do my Master any good and doesn't do me any good.

     Numbers three and four also go together inseparably and are obedience and transparency. These may always be a work in progress. I go along thinking I have both of them down, that I can do this! And then some unexpected situation comes up that challenges my ability to either obey or be transparent to my Master, and I feel like I am climbing that same hill again.
 
     We have talked a lot about punishment, and he has thought about what works and doesn't work for me, and what he wants to do. Without going into too much detail, he has a several pronged approach to this. No punishment at all was just not going to be the best solution for us.  Yes, he does do corporal punishment, which is entirely different than play.

     And finally, the topic of mantras. These are helpful little sayings that I pick up from other people to help me at certain times. Right now I have two that I use. "Just obey" and "I am patience". Saying them once or twice is not good enough. I use them to block out and obliterate the cascading negative thoughts that stand in the way of those two things at times.

     I read the book "Slavecraft" and found it really useful in terms of mindset. You might recognize some of the concepts here from that book.
My Master has had his own changes during this time, but I don't want to try to speak for him, and he is unlikely to write it himself. I will just leave it saying that we are continuing to evolve together.

Beginnings

If there is one thing that is constant in life it is change.

    My fantasy life started a long time ago, with thoughts of serving as a slave which were pre-sexual in nature. They eventually became sexual fantasies, but not ones that I shared with anyone. As a feminist, a liberal, and an independent, stubborn woman I was ashamed of these fantasies because they didn't fit in with my views of the world or myself. So they were just lurking there, to be brought out as needed for sexual stimulation in my own head.
    I met my Master in high school and it was an instant crush for me. I was very shy, and he already had a girlfriend, so it took some time for a relationship to develop. We started dating just before he left for college. We had a long distance relationship, conducted mainly by letter (snail mail of course, this being in the days before email) except for visits back and forth for 4 years. I still have hundreds of letters we wrote back and forth, many of his with elaborately painted envelopes. I followed him, choosing a college which was close enough to his to get there by bus for a weekend. Neither of us had a car. One summer I lived secretly in the dorm with him, which was definitely not allowed. I spent most days while he was at work playing pool in the dorm basement, until I finally got a temp job in a factory.

    The first time he tied me up, I was 17.  We did not do bondage related activities regularly though. After we moved in together, when I was in college and he started graduate school at the same university I attended, we started doing a few more kinky things. This turned me on an unbelievable amount but I didn't ask for it all the time. I don't really know why, perhaps it was shame and embarrassment. He always had a much higher sex drive than I did, which was frustrating for both of us. At one point he insisted on going to counseling for the issue of not enough sex. The therapist seemed to blame me entirely, and just said I should do it more. It was extremely irritating to me at the time. Now, it might have been useful if he'd said something like "Why don't you tie her up and beat her ass to turn her on", but I guess therapists aren't supposed to say things like that. Anyway, I wasn't a very good patient as I just sat there and didn't say anything.

   For years we played around with bondage with a nifty leather strap he made, some role playing and play-rape fantasy. It was more the exception than the rule.

   Then last summer something happened.  My husband took the kids and went to visit their Grandma in California, leaving me on my own here. I got bored and lonely and started looking up things on-line related to bondage and S&M, reading stories and finding out how big and varied the BDSM world was, and how much the whole idea turned me on. When he got back my sex drive was way up; I just couldn't stop thinking about it. My fantasies suddenly didn't seem so crazy and I started asking for more and more stuff to be done to me. He was thrilled that I was so horny and kinky all of a sudden. Some things he wasn't so sure about at first, like spanking, but after a few times he started enjoying the effects that it had on me. As he says, "It's no skin off my butt".

    The first month I insisted that I was not any kind of masochist, and I would let him know and tell him to stop if anything he did hurt. I meant it too.

    But the more I got the more I wanted it, and harder, until in the second month I admitted that I may actually be enjoying the pain and be a little bit of a masochist after all. His reaction was to laughingly say, "No kidding". I am not always exactly in touch with my feelings, as you may have gathered by now.

    The biggest thrill for me was when he would dominate me and I could just give in. At some point I stopped saying no. Anything he wanted, asked for, demanded, hinted at, I would do. This was my first step of submission. Around that time sex became painful, through overdoing it, I guess. I was stubborn and never let on that it hurt. Yeah, it was probably a stupid thing to do, but at the time I felt I had to. I just pushed through and beyond the pain until eventually it wasn't painful anymore. It was the second step in submission for me.
    By about 3 months, we had officially decided as a couple to be D/s but only in the bedroom or relating to sexual things. In every other aspect the relationship was as equals. He did not want me to become a doormat who would never disagree with him, or have an interesting debate. We discussed limits, hard and soft, and safewords, ideas I had picked up on the internet.

    I started feeling like I was falling down a hole, like Alice in Wonderland, a great big welcoming hole of submission and dominance, of sex and gratifying pain.

    After about 4 months I started feeling like giving up all my limits, and accepting his hard limits as my own. I wanted to give up my safeword, but through talking to others on line I was convinced this was a bad idea. I eventually decided to reserve it for when I thought was really in danger or in trouble, and this was just a way of protecting both of us from unintentional harm. Not to use it just because something was unpleasant or not what I wanted. For that I'd either just use regular communication, in which case he was free to override me, or to just be quiet. Since I mainly enjoyed the acts of Dominance and submission, it was not that hard to choose the last option most of the time.
     The next step in my submission was one night he told me to wash the dishes, which by an agreement of many years standing, were rightfully his to wash because I had cooked dinner. I said no, just no. He took me upstairs and gave me an angry thrashing. Not the funishment kind so much as the kind when I feel horrible that he really is mad at me. I apologized. I agreed to wash the dishes while kneeling at his feet and near to crying.
     The next critical turning point came when he told me to go off without him and do something that I really did not feel like doing. It wasn't a big thing, I just really didn't feel like it at the moment. I said I would, but it took me a little while to stop feeling crabby and resentful about it. Finally I accepted the task within myself with a feeling of submission and peacefulness and actually enjoyed myself.
     That was when I knew that I really was a slave 24/7, not just in the bedroom, because the task had nothing to do with sex, kinkiness or pleasure. It just was what he wanted me to do and I did it.
Around that time I asked him if he thought the word submissive or slave more accurately fit me, and he said slave, so that is how we became M/s. I had been calling him Master the whole time because it seemed right to me and fit in with my fantasies. I had a couple of leather play collars, but neither of us had much interest in a big ceremony or a "real" collar that I would wear all the time. We talked about it and decided it was not for us, at least at this time.
    Then, in another turn around, for Christmas he gave me a thick gold necklace, which I absolutely love, and said I could consider it his collar of ownership of me forever. I wear it every day, although at night I switch to a more sturdy leather collar. After that I stopped feeling like I was falling down a desperate and enticing hole, and more like I had found a comfortable footing.