Hands On Learning

The hands on method is often the quickest way to learn something.  This week I learned that taking a sarcastic tone during a punishment is probably not the best thing for me to do.  

Fellowship

Yesterday I spend a lot of time chatting with internet friends, people that I've never met in real life, but some of whom I feel very close to anyway.  They are all slaves.  Each of us has a different relationship, and different ways of being are expected of us, but there is still so much in common just from be subject to and devoted to the will of another person.  We all have our struggles and problems, and having people that will listen, question, not always agree, but always understand that our lives revolve around being a slave is so valuable in terms of learning and support.

Some like to think they can learn everything about being a slave from their Master, but that is mainly in the external, what do I do, world.   The internal world, of how do I wrap my head around doing this, really is only understood by other slaves. 

The latest thing I have learned there is avoiding having expectations.   They are frequently pointless and often distressing.  Letting go of them enables more of that graceful service, and brings both of us more peace of mind.  For me, when I am ready for whatever he commands, not having expectations, it is a more peaceful way of being than expecting one thing, then being disappointed or shocked and having to rearrange my head.  And for him, when I'm comfortable and not having issues with head rearrangement, he receives more pleasant service.

Mantras and submission

In an effort to make my slavery a more contented and peaceful place overall, I have been working on repeating several mantras for about the last week and a half.  These are little sayings that I repeat to myself when discontent comes into my mind.

First off, I still have "peon" written on my arm.  When it starts to fade I refresh it.  I was a bit surprised that no one, not my mom, not people at the munch, not any of the friends we saw in Las Vegas, asked me why I had that written on my arm, or even commented on it.   This is good, because I didn't really have any satisfactory vanilla-friendly explanation for it.

Peon is short hand for "You don't have as much influence around here as you think you do", so every time I look at it, that is what I remember.   It is comforting, actually, rather than oppressive.   Because as a slave I do not want to be in control, and do not want to have influence with my various moods over what Master does.  I want to feel secure in my place as a peon, and this word helps me do that with its constant shorthand reminder.

We have actually been playing a lot lately.  I thought there might be a lull, what with returning from vacation and everything, but Friday night was very intense.  Then Saturday we did nothing at all together- Master was gone all day, I was gone for the evening and then we went to bed early.

Sunday was a day full of stolen moments.   It seemed like neither of us could get enough of each other.  It was all quick and here and there, but it seemed like we were on high arousal all day.  

At night we were all excited to watch the second season of Game of Thrones which he just bought.   But the remote was no where to be found.   All Master's bad mood from before came roaring back, and even though I knew it had nothing to do with me I started to feel the weight of it pressing me down.   It didn't make me angry or resentful, it made me feel like curling up inside myself like an armadillo with only a hard shell on the outside.  I wanted to actually and emotionally protect myself.  Distance, I thought, I want to be somewhere else, somewhere hidden.   Instead, I had my obedience.   I followed his orders, whether that was "Look for the remote", "Come over here", "Stand up", "Get me some water", "Cuddle up to me".   It was all orders, all in the same gruff tone, and I just obeyed, the whole time feeling like the armadillo who wanted to curl up and hide but couldn't.

As the movie went on, Master pinched my nipples, spread my legs and slapped my cunt.   I started feeling my shell dropping.  Whenever I moved my hands down that direction, whether I meant to fondle myself or to try to cover and protect, he'd slap my stomach or thighs hard and repeat "Keep your hands outta there".    I was flattening, opening, feeling that pressure of submission against my heart.  I don't know if I'm explaining this at all well, but it is a good, comforting, lowering feeling.  Instead of the armadillo I was the pup who rolls over to expose all in perfect trust that the dominant animal will see her submission and not harm her.  It was in my heart, in my chest and just overwhelming me.  

My other mantras, which I really didn't get to because I got side tracked by the emotions of last night.

-I am here for his pleasure, for his desires.
-Things will be done on his timeline.
-M/s is not the same as play, and by confusing them I will only set myself up for heartaches. 
-Just obey. 
I have one more to add, that Master gave me:
-I am a good slave and my Master loves me.  

M/s is everything of our lives, from accepting his orders as law, to bringing him tea, to rubbing his back or his feet, to making breakfast and helping kids with homework.  It doesn't matter which of those I'm doing, every single action makes up our lives as Master and slave.  Play and sex is just a part of that, not the whole thing.   I would do well to remember that.

Anger Management

Master came home absolutely livid about the Wal-Tart here.   He told me he was in a thoroughly bad mood now and I should do something to cheer him up.  I said, "Well, you could beat me and call me Wal-Tart". 

He gave a few spanks to my butt, then a few more.  He started grinning.  I started getting wet.  Then a few more spanks.  He told me to come, and I did.  I said "I bet Wal-Tart doesn't get to orgasm".  

Then he strode off upstairs and ordered me to follow him.   When I got there, just behind him, he was already pulling out the long, thin wooden panel.  I dropped my pants.

"Bend over" he said.

He started whaling on my butt really hard, and then had me suck his cock.  He called me "Wal-Tart", the dirty whore who deserved an cock up her ass.   I giggled. 

Soon he was all cheered up.  

One of my many functions.

Sewn?

Waiting patiently on my knees, I did not expect anything except the order to go to bed.   Master entered, walked past me.  He was singing under his breath.   Behind me I heard the drawer open and my insides made a little squiggly jump.   His foot nudged me in the back, tipping me forward and putting my face on the floor.   He lifted my robe and threw it over my head.   I felt the paddle strike my ass.   It got harder and harder until I was biting my robe to keep from making noises.   He went on beating me with that and the cane until I was dripping down my thighs.  

He turned me over roughly and said he was going to rape me, so I better try to get away.   I struggled to push him away, told him "No, stop" and fought until he whispered in my ear "Lie still or I'll fucking kill you".   It froze me paralyzed.  On one side of my mind I realized it was part of the game and on the other I felt it was a very serious game.   I stayed still.  For a bit.  Then he said I could fight back because "You rape too easy."    I managed to squirm away out from under him, and scoot across the floor on my knees.   He took the paddle and whapped me with it hard a few times, then dragged me back down my my ankle.

Fucking me again, his face close to my ear, he threatened to sew up my cunt using fishing hooks and line, only leaving a small hole out of which to pee.  He described it in detail, and it scared me.   I wanted to say NO, but when he asked me what I thought of that only "Whatever you want, Master" came out of me.  

He told me to get on the bed and raise my legs.  He took the single tail whip to the backs of my thighs and ass in that position and I lay there knowing it was only a matter of time before it hit my exposed cunt.  When it finally did I cried out at the sharp pain, and, his objective accomplished, he rolled me over and fucked me from behind.

Home again

After a long series of flights yesterday, starting at 6 am (which required waking up at 3:45) and getting to the airport here at 7 pm we are finally home.  Mystique picked us up at the airport. 

The lamb is still living in the bathroom, the house is a mess (my mom, for all her wonderful virtues, does not clean, other than doing dishes.  My dad cleans their house).
I have tons of laundry to do, but I'm home and busily doing my stuff, feeling quite happy to get back into my routine, and happy to be home. 

Also, it has been snowing all morning.

Master went back to work today, and he's going to be gone all day tomorrow at his game.  My mom will be here until Sunday.  

Anyone want a lamb?  Free! 

Strippers 'N' Sex

Last night we went to a strip club.  It is Vegas after all.  Master's friend knows the owner of a club, so he sent round a party bus for us (6 in our party).

It is slightly different going to a club as a slave, than it was as a free person. For a start, Master thinks it shouldn't just be the strippers taking off clothes.  I had worn many layers, in anticipation, and he kept removing them one by one until I was barely decent.  And by barely I mean not really decent at all.   He kept pulling down my one remaining garment.  Not that I am a shy, retiring flower, but really, if I had any say I probably would have kept my clothes on in front of all his friends.  

In addition, and this was a positive, he ordered all my drinks for me and cut me off when he decided I'd had enough.  This was a great help because I would otherwise have kept drinking until it went to excess, and I would have been sorry about that later.  

When we got back to the hotel room he went to the bathroom while I stripped and waited on my knees for him, with only my collar on.  Master walked right up to me and without a word stuck his cock in my mouth.  After a minute he stopped me, pulled me up by the hair and led to the bed, where he threw me down on my face.  He used the cane on me hard, my thighs and butt were stinging and I was wiggling and moaning.  He made me come.   Then he fucked me for a long time, with intermitant breaks for more caning.  For some reason the most painful position for this is when I lie on my back with both legs straight up.  The backs of my thighs and edge of my bottom get the worst of it.

Don't think I'm complaining, though; I loved every minute even when it hurt like heck.

In the morning once again he took me with no warning or preparation.  A dry and painful fuck for the first minute or so.  Then many screaming orgasms!  He made me bite a pillow so as not to disturb our hotel neighbors.  I'm pretty sure they heard me anyway.  

All over the place (still in Vegas)

I seem to be keeping really busy here.  I thought I'd have a lot more time to get bored. 

Recap of the events so far:

Sunday night we met with a M/s couple that Master knew from Fetlife.  She is attending the same conference here that he is.  That was fun.  We had some drinks in a bar at the Luxor, and then went to an Irish Pub type place.  We really hit it off well, I thought, and had interesting discussions of history, what books to read, kinky stuff and vet medicine.  Topics were all over the place.

Then Master and I headed back to the hotel room to watch the Walking Dead.   I was going to play on the computer while he watched because I don't like zombie shows, but he told me to crouch down on the floor by the bed instead.   He got the cane and proceded to tap, tap, tap on me with it in a rhythmic, light and after a while, highly annoying way for the better part of the show.   I kind of wanted to be left alone, or else just full out play, rather than this whatever it was he was doing.

When he told me to get up and lean over the bed I said, "No Master, I don't want to".  He told me again, more forcefully, and I said no, please, no, as politely as I could.  He got a real edge in his voice then and told me AGAIN.   I leaned over the bed.   He beat and fucked me for a long time, and it was quite awesome.  I felt bad that I hadn't liked the first bit, and also that he interrupted his show to beat me when I wasn't sure he really wanted to.   Anyway, my head was all screwed with that night, but my body was happy.  I'm not sure if there is any moral or conclusion to draw from this, but that is how it happened.

In the morning he let me wash him in the shower, which I don't get to do often at home, and I thoroughly enjoy doing it.

We had a bit of a discussion about the night before.  It started out bad, with me telling him he was doing it wrong, then him trying to hit me with the cane, and me running and hiding my ass in the bed to avoid him, but he got me anyway with it.

  I told him what was going wrong with my head, that it hurt me that he had told me he only was playing with me because I looked pouty and unhappy.  He apologized for giving me confusing messages about whether he did or did not want to play during his favorite show.  He said next time he would just make me wait til it was over.  

We had a quick breakfast at Starbucks and then I walked to the convention with him.  We were laughing and joking the whole way.  Everything was all better.   On the way back I did a little window shopping.  I looked at some VERY impractical shoes. 

My twat was sore all day, from the fucking and the caning of the night before.

Before we met for lunch, I stopped by a salon for a manicure.  That was quite nice- it was my first one by a professional.

We ate at the buffet with a bunch of friends.  It was not great food, ok, but not great.

When Master came back to the hotel room that night he was tired and sore.  I fetched him some water, and rubbed his feet and legs.

We met his uncle, cousin and his cousin's son at Dick's bar/ restaurant.  That was a great and rowdy time.  Master's relatives that live here in Vegas have been good friends to me as well, and they are some really fun people.   Dick's is a crazy place where they give you paper hats to wear with rude things written on them, like "I'm not a slut but my mom is"  or "I heart anal", things of that nature.

I got quite toasty with a tall drink called a "Golden Shower" which was Sprite, vodka, Redbull and peach schnapps.  Heavy on the vodka. Master was drinking Guiness. 

A few more bars and drinks later and it was time to totter/stagger back to the hotel room.  I collapsed on the bed with the room spinning wildly.  Master told me to strip, then flogged and whipped me with a single tail.  It felt great in a floaty, room- spinny kind of way.
He fucked me long and hard, with many orgasms along the path.  I don't think he was anywhere near as drunk as I was. 

Morning came very early, and I was woken by him spreading my legs roughly and thrusting into my dry and tight cunt.  I moaned and he asked if it hurt. 

"Yes, Master" I said.

"Good." he said, and thorougly fucked me rough and hard.

Ahhh, a good start to any day. 

Holed up

We got into our hotel last night, actually this morning, at 2 am.  On Wisconsin time that would have been 4 am.   We went straight to sleep.  I got up this morning feeling like absolute crap.  Master used me as his fuckholes, and flipped me over and came deep inside me.   We showered together, dressed and dragged ourselves across the hotel to one of the Luxor restaurants.  I had a pecan bacon waffle, which was sooooo not on my diet and full of delicious decadence.   You know what?  Screw the diet.  At least til we get back home.  The coffee and food revived me into my normal chipper self.


Master wanted me to walk with him to the convention, which is two hotels down, so I did.  He said it was only a 10 minute walk but I swear it felt like an hour, or maybe 10 miles.  Then he gave me $50 to spend for the afternoon and turned me loose on Las Vegas.   I had a few moments of near panic at being abandoned in the midst of crowds and casinos, but pulled it together and took the tram back to our hotel.  I stopped for a cup of coffee and to buy a $15 see through shirt (everything I packed is too warm) and holed up in the hotel room to wait for his return tonight.  I might have to venture out for a snack later, but for now I'm enjoying the peace and a lack of over-stimulation.  

Vegas!

In less than an hour we're heading out to the airport, and flying to Las Vegas.  My mom is getting left with the kids, dogs, sheep, lambiedoodle (still alive, for now), ducks and chickens. 

 God bless moms!  They are the best!  Especially mine.

Master and I will be in Las Vegas until Thursday and if anything interesting happens I may write some blogs from there.  

See ya!!!

Peon

This is my arm, with a little reminder for myself that I don't have as much influence around here as I think I do.  

It all started Wednesday morning.  I was feeling down, for several reasons, one of which was dead and dying twin lambs.   The other was that after Saturday there had been an understandable lull, and I was getting a bit antsy for more... something... didn't really care what, but something physical in the way of Master's attention.  He noticed me looking kind of mopey and asked what was up.   This is where one of those massive miscommunications started.  One of those that I don't see when it is happening but only figure out what went wrong later when looking back at it.


He thought I might be sick.  I said no, I'm just feeling a bit neglected and unwanted.  Then he took me upstairs, spanked me a few times, let me use the vibrator to get off, and he came on my face.  I felt grateful, and really thought he had done it just for me, so at the same time I felt horribly guilty that I had moped and sulked him into doing something with me right before he had to rush off to work.   The more I thought the worse I felt (over thinking anyone?) and in the shower I cried.  

When Master got home I apologized for being sulky, and described what I thought went on, and that was when he informed me that I was considering myself to have way more influence over him than I actually do.   He had been planning to do that anyway, and my moping almost lost me that opportunity, except that he really did want to come on my face, so he didn't let my attitude get in his way.   So I had everything all upside down and backward from his way of thinking, thus the reminder to myself that I am but a peon here, and he will do what he wants, not because I want it, but because he does. 


Valentine's Day made it hard to remember I was but a peon.  I was spoiled by Master with flowers, chocolates, a visit from Myst, and a great deal of beating and fucking.  I still have cane marks on my inner thighs, and tawse marks on my ass.  What hurt the worst though, was when I had the backs of my thighs whipped with the single tail.  I cried and cried and sobbed.  It really hurt.  Really.  A lot.  But the crying was coming from somewhere else.  Not just pain, but like it was opening up a direct line to my emotions and it had to all come out in the form of tears.  Finally she stopped and had me breathe deeply and relax again.   

Master mentioned that peon really should be peed-on, but anyway, that is not part of this story, so we'll just leave that one alone.

Slave Contract

We do have a contract, which was dictated to me by him, about 10 months ago.  It is a bit ex post facto, since we both agreed that I was his slave about 5 months before the contract was drawn up.   

It is short and sweet:

My part:

I promise to be my Master's, Decius Mus, bitch in all things and to obey him.
signed,
ksst

His part:

I promise to love, honor, cherish and whip my slave, ksst,  as often as I desire.
signed,
Decius Mus


ps. see MP, how much having a contract would not help you.

Yo Quiero!

Master's pancakes are done, he has eaten, and I have washed the dishes now.   The coffee is cold, but I'm still drinking it.  Last night was a late one. 

Back to last night:

Master sat down and ordered me to my knees.   I threw my towel on the ground and knelt between his legs.  Always know where your towel is, my hoopy froods, especially if you party naked.   Unfortunately the same did not apply to my underwear.  I guess I misplaced them sometime last night.   I carry a spare pair in the toy bag for such occurrences.  

He unzipped his pants and I slurped his cock up eagerly.  He's got me trained pretty well to orgasm while giving him blow jobs, so very shortly I was on the verge of it.  He saw it in my body and ordered me to come.   He pushed my head down and held me there, not breathing, gagging, until he was happy with that result and then let me continue. 

He pushed me off himself and ordered me to bend over a chair.  Master took me from behind and almost immediately I slipped off the chair and had my face on the floor, on my helpful towel.   It was also the only protection for my knees from the hard floor.  I received a hard fucking from Master, my eyes tightly closed so I could pretend (ha) no one was watching/ noticing.   It felt so good though, pretty soon I didn't care about that, or if I was making noises or not.  When he was done I sat up, and you know how all that air gets pumped into a cunt through vigorous fucking in that position?  Well, the air has to come back out again.   I was really glad the music was good and loud at that point.   

Then there was the fucking machine.  It vibrates and it is way fun. I came over and over again until my legs were shaking so bad I could hardly stand up.

It was time to head out before our carriage turned into a pumpkin.  I managed to find my way back into clothes, except for those missing panties (yay for the spare pair).   We said our goodbyes to friends.

 On the way home, at 1:00, Master got the early morning cravings for some Yo Quiero!  Oh, man, that was sooo not on my diet but food hardly ever tasted so good.  I got one of those chicken cheese quesadillas.  

Karnival!

We had a Great!  Awesome! Wonderful! night last night!   I'd been looking forward to this event since I first got the approval from Master to get tickets and we were not disappointed.    There is a new group in a nearby town, and this was their first event.    There was a great turnout, even though this is the same weekend as MadTownKinkFest and a lot of people were down there.  

For the Mardi Gras theme, I borrowed a fancy mask from Mystique.   I asked Master what I should wear with it and his answer was "Nothing at all, maybe some beads and ropes."   Of course, we had to get IN to the place first, so I dressed up, only to be undressed shortly after arriving.  Master looked very handsome in his suit and tie.   We looked like we had just come from attending church, in fact.     We fail at the kink-wear stuff, but who cares.  

Master tied my hands and feet to a cross, and gave me a long and hefty beating with many implements.   I was flying pretty good and did not notice I was getting bruised and cut.  This morning I seem to somewhat asymmetrical- one side is bruised and the other side has whip marks.   Doesn't matter, we both had a wonderful time.  After a short break of watching what other people were up to he put me in the stocks, and saying "Don't go anywhere",  left me there for a time on my own, naked except for ropes, collar and beads.   Then he returned and after a little spanking fondled me and made me orgasm.  I twisted and strained against the stocks, but of course couldn't move.  I forgot to keep my head up, and the pressure on my neck made me cough.   It was all together hot, and I believe the bruise on my shoulder came from ramming it into the stocks.


This will be To Be Continued because Master wants his breakfast....
 

Poly on my mind

These were questions posed in the Owners/property group on Fetlife, and my answers.  

 

Were you having poly relationships prior to entering into O/p, or was your first experience with poly within an O/p relationship?

Property, if your first experience of poly was because you are owned, is it something you would have considered if you were not owned?

I would never have considered a poly relationship before I became a slave. There was a whole mind shift that came about for me, in which my Master had a huge role. It wasn't just "I own you, you will do what or whom I say" although that was certainly an very real (and hot!) aspect. It was also about an opening up of possibilities and self discovery, through being forced to release other long held inhibitions. There was a dwindling and then vanishing of previous negative thoughts on the whole idea of polyamory . Like I said, a lot of this came about from how Master handled me. And the fact that he did handle me, and massage my brain, was almost totally due to my being his slave.

Do you feel there are any specific experiences or reactions you have because you are in O/p specifically as the result of O/p? If so could you tell us about these please? Were they ones you might have expected or not?

YES. Absolutely. I think all of my reactions/experiences are different. I specifically enjoy being discussed, being unconsulted, having him and her decide things without me. I still only have one Owner, that has not changed. A couple months ago there were some things we discussed about hierarchy, submission, service and the time and place for all of those. I needed to get all these things sorted out in my own mind, through talking to my Master, so I could be sure I was behaving the way he wanted me to.

The other main thing is that as his property, I do not control what he does, so if he decides he wants another slave, that is up to him. That is so totally different from how I was thinking in the pre-slavery days. It is all topsy turvy, upside down here in the rabbit hole. He was absolutely up front about it when I became his slave, also, that he would not necessarily be monogamous, but he would always be up front about it with me. And I agreed; that was what slavery meant to me as well.

This week

This week has mostly been about making soup, tea and toast, bringing Master things to keep him warm and otherwise staying out of his way.   He's been sick, and likes to be left alone then, except for having me nearby in case he needs anything.  

I find myself appreciating all the more what he does for me, after reading this blog from my favorite writer:

Appreciation

Whenever I'm fetching and carrying, or doing other chores, and I find myself thinking "Boy, is Master lucky to have me to do this for him" but then I realize that I am the lucky one.   I think of all the things he does for me (the big one being owning my ass)  and I feel incredible gratitude, and how lucky I am to be owned by such a good man. 

He was feeling better yesterday.   He tied me up, gave me some stripes with the single tail, breaking skin in several places, as well as a whole lot of paddling, before fucking me and then coming on my face.   See all the nice things he does for me  :).   I know it is for his pleasure too, all these beatings and sex, of course, but I still feel like the luckiest slave in the world to be able to serve him.

My brain hurts

  I nearly exploded from frustration last night. I was trying so hard to find my Zen thoughts- breathe in, breathe out.  Let it happen.  Let it be.  Sob.

 

 Master teased me all during the movie we were watching, till I was all a hot mess, then he said to me "Changed my mind, I don't feel that good, go to bed.  Maybe I will fuck you in the morning".

 

  But I think he was just tormenting me (or a very passing malady) because when we got in bed,  he had changed it back again.   I didn't really believe it at first, and when his hand pushed my legs apart I was tolerating rather than enjoying.   I was so sure he was going to leave me frustrated that I resisted relaxing into enjoyment.  

 

We were well into mid -fuck before my resistance went down and I stopped feeling like sobbing.    He told me to get the vibrator then and made me come half a dozen times.   He slapped me all over, slapping my breasts, slapping my thighs, my face.  He pinched and twisted.  I starting wondering if my nipple was going to come off in his hand.

 

It was a night that fucked with my head.  

 

  

Weekend munch

This weekend we went to a munch/flogging/whips demo and had an awesome time.  
Master tried out a fun toy on me, a flogger made of what looked like leather boot laces.   It was pretty hurty compared to the average flogger; most of them are just relaxing or massage-like.

Also, he used a single tail whip on me as a bit of a warm up.  The problem with these demos, though, is that we always have to stop and do something else just when I'm getting into it.  Still, it is better than nothing.   I'm such a slut for this.

He also got to beat some other people who asked for it.  Fun fun!  Beatings for everyone!

    I have to say when Myst looked at Master and asked him if she could use me I got a deep down thrill.    Even little bits of objectification get me all excited.  It is the reminder that I am not my own, I am his, and the reminder is coming from outside of the two of us.

One topic was frontal flogging, and she was doing a safety lecture on avoiding the face, and knowing what you are doing before beating on the front of someone and so on. 

 My Master was sitting across the table from me, his flogger in hand.   He doubled it up, reached over and flopped it gently on my cheeks, saying "Yeah, they really hate it when you do this".     Hmmmph.   I'm pretty sure I was glaring daggers.

I was called up again for the demo of breast flogging, and according to orders, removed my shirt and undershirt but left my bra on.  About midway through Myst commented on the fact that I was wearing a padded bra.   I said that way I couldn't feel as much since they were still sore from last time.  "Oh, you mean like this?" she asked and dug fingernails into my boob, hard, nearly dropping me to my knees.  Oh yeah, just like that.  :)

Like I said, slutty.

I'm not even going to go into what was happening with me when the whip cracking noises were going on.  Let's just say it was damp and wiggly time. 

Complaints, and where they get me

Thursday (see my last blog entry) was a big day.  I was soundly satisfied, exhausted, and completely beat. 

Later that evening I complained some (ok, a lot) about being sore.  Hey, I thought he'd want to know the condition of my body, right?   And how much fun I had is usually  (almost always) reflected in how sore I am later. 

It makes sense that  lots of fun = very sore= happy Master.   Right?

In a seemingly unrelated incident, Master asked me if I could name any Japanese aircraft carriers.   You probably didn't know that he is very much into history, especially WWII history.  

I listed off the four that I could think of, which were the Midway four:  Kaga, Akagi, Hiryu, and Soryu.

He was so happy!   He said I deserved a spanking for that.  Of course I do; I love spankings!

Bent over the couch, skirt lifted... WHACK!   With the pvc pipe.   Oh ouch, that bit was still sore from earlier. 

Just for fun he started listing off the Japanese Imperial Navy and having me repeat the names after him, punctuating each name with a solid WHACK! on my butt.   If my pronunciation was off I had to repeat the name, with extra whacks, until I got it right. 

Yam(whack)-at(whack)-o(whack).   One whack for each syllable for the long names.
Musashi (whack),
Mutsu (whack),
 Nagato (whack),
Fuso (whack),
Ise (whack),
Heie (whack),
Haruna (whack),
 Hyuga (whack),
Kirishima (whack),
Kongo (whack),
Yamashiro (whack).

I guess all this battleship stuff got him really excited because next thing I knew I was getting fucked from behind again.   Yeah, those parts were still sore too.  

Now I'm wondering if wearing grandma panties would provide any immunity to his enthusiastic affections.

 Not that I'm complaining.   

A Hazy Shade of Winter

After a brief thaw, the mercury is dropping again.   This morning it was -10 F here.  

Yesterday is hazy for me.  Some things I remember clearly, others I'm still trying to piece together.

I slept badly, but stayed in bed, not really getting up until 7:00.  We had gotten 10 inches of snow (or thereabouts) the day before, so Master was up at 6:30 shoveling.   I made breakfast, broke some more kindling on the back porch in my fluffy robe and slippers (that was brisk) and built a fire.   I cleaned the house, doing the general pick up and sweeping/vacuuming.  

Mystique came over and we didn't wait long before I was being told by Master to get over his lap.  He pulled up my skirt and gave me a spanking while I sucked down some strap on penis.  Then they swapped ends, and I sucked his cock and she spanked me.   This is where it gets all fuzzy.  I don't know what happened next, or after that,  until I had a hook in my cunt, and she was smacking my pussy.  At the same time Master was hitting me with the riding crop.  They both kept telling me to wait and not cum, and I was on the verge of orgasm maybe 5 or 6 times, but managed to hold off before I just couldn't take it anymore.  I squirted all over her lap. 

Myst pushed me off and ordered me to clean up where I had  made such a puddle.   I tried  to get a towel, and she said "Really, a towel?" The hook fell out of my cunt, clunk, on the floor.    With a thrill and shock of embarrassment I knew what she wanted, and I used my tongue to lick up my own cum.   As I did I could feel my pussy clenching with desire, wanting to come again.   

Then we are back to hazy-ville, a favorite vacation spot of mine.   They both had me in every position, switching off to use a crop or other implement on me, or both at once, fucking mouth and cunt.    At one point I was bent over the couch and she whipped me.  Evidently I begged for this (?) and also begged for pictures of the marks when she was done, although all I remember is the steady swishing and stinging of the whip.  During this my Master held my wrists so I was stretched up tight.  The pictures show me bent over, gripping the sides of my head with both my own hands entwined in my hair.

There was much pinching of my tits and inner thighs with long nails.  This hurt so bad I wanted to scream.  I think all I got out was shaking my head and mumbling "Nu, nuh, nuh"  (the beginning of no) and then when I thought I couldn't stand it anymore I would start coming explosively hard.  

Finally as I rode Myst's strap on cock Master got behind me and fucked my ass.  Yeah, it hurt, but not severely, and it felt so good at the same time.  It was the kind of hurt that I can just lean on, bring into my body, savor,  and it leaves nothing but the wild and animal thoughts in my head.

After, I slumped in a pile, feeling like everything was wrung from me.   There was some talking around me, possibly I was talking too, and eventually I had to go get cleaned up because we were going out for lunch.   I was pretty much spaced out through all of lunch,  laughing and happy, more than slightly tipsy on endorphins.  

Thus the warning "Do Not Drive or Operate Heavy Machinery"  after this kind of use.