Happy New Year

Just a very quick message to wish everyone a very Happy New Year and to thank you for your support and encouragement with this blog.

Hope you all have a wonderful night and may all your wishes and hopes for 2011 become a reality.

Removing words from my voacbulary.....I need a Thesaurus

This is control. 

This is how he makes me think about things, about how I talk, how I respond, how I think.

This morning, for a few reasons I felt far away from home, very far. Far from friends and he knew why because in the spirit of being open ( haha in the spirit...under instruction on pain of all sorts of wickedly ownerish torture and abuse) I had told him and he knew.

He was kind and loving and asked me if I wanted to talk about it, and I declined his offer, which he accepted.............. and said I was fine.

He knew I wasn't, I knew I wasn't, but we left it at that....................

But now he has removed two words from my vocabulary..well phrases......"I'm fine" and "I'm ok"........also the use of the word "no" is to be banned completely, never to be uttered again.......so for the time being.................

I'm fine.

I'm ok.

No no no no no no

Action or inaction...either is wrong

There are those moments and those words when you know, just know that whatever you say, it is going to be wrong.

Your action or inaction is going to get you into trouble. Whatever you say or don't say is like digging a hole and jumping feet first into it.

I have several of those moments this morning.

Firstly I am meant to write words of his choosing on me every day, and for sometime I have not. A circumstance changed and he didn't say anything and so neither did I. As the weeks have gone by, I just thought he had forgotten, changed his mind or lost interest in me doing it, which is fine by me.

Not that I  am particularly bothered about doing it, sometimes it makes me all mushy inside, but he has talked about having it tattooed onto me, just under each nipple, and I just hate the idea of a tattoo.
Its just one of those things I have a real aversion to and he knows that, and I suppose somewhere deep in my slavey brain that's what it feels like. so I haven't done it.

Today he asked me to show him my nipples, which I did think was a little strange, as he sees them all the time, and it was only a little later that I realised what he was angling at.......and my heart sank. He asked me why I thought that I was in a position to make a decision regarding what marks I do or do not have on me......................what could I say? Nothing, nothing at all. whatever I said would make it worse.

He was then on a roll, every thing he could think of, he did say it was partly his fault, as he hadn't picked me up on the little slips, sometimes hoping that I would notice myself, but anyway, he was not a happy owner.

He then asked me if I wasn't sure of the rules any more, if I needed him to go over them again........this was the big one.

I know I am allowed to ask for clarification, politely, but I am allowed to ask.

So now what do I do, do I say yes or do I say no?

If i said no and then forgot one or misinterpreted it because I had forgotten it in in entirety then I would be in trouble for not using my brain and asking.

 If I said yes, then the implication being that I hadn't been paying attention, and I had forgotten something he had told me.

As I said 'Yes please". I knew it was the wrong answer, but so would "No thank you" have been too.

His reply?

"After all this time, you need a reminder?
Tonight I am to get reminders of each and every rule.
In the meantime, the sharpie pen was used to write "I am a slave,  I have no choice. This slave belongs to Sir"

How to amuse yourself with your slave

This morning he had a little play...nothing serious he said....I think there was nothing on the television and so I was his amusement for a few hours.......I guess that's what happens when you are someones toy to play with as they see fit.

Instructions on how to pass a few hours:

First take slave and put pegs on cunt and mouth lips.
Give slave a gentle tongue lashing in the knowledge she cant say anything back.
Make slave do exercises so you can watch her tits wobble and fly around trying to defy gravity.
Insert toy into slave and repeat above, not allowing toy to escape.
Make slave beg to cum with lips pegged.
Make cup of tea and leave slave face down on floor ...squirming.
Make slave beg to cum.
Deny slave permission.
Make slave kneel up and tell her to cross legs and watch her fall over.
Watch slave squirm with frustration.
Refuse permission
Watch slave shamefacedly try to apologise with lips pegged together for cumming without permission.
Leave slave on floor, face down with toy still in.
Tell slave to stand up, close eyes, turn three times one way and three times other way, and then make slave cum.
Tell slave she can take pegs off, then say only two, watch slaves face fall as she decides which two.
Tell slave she is to explain how she feels whilst lips  are still pegged together.

Make another cup of tea, leaving slave face down AGAIN.

Return to slave, tell her she may speak and watch her struggle to decide if that means taking off pegs.
Warn slave if she takes off pegs and she says anything rude, she WILL wear them all day.

Smile at slave and say "Good girl".

Tell her a good programme is on the television now and she is to be quiet until you are ready.
Return one hour later, if slave is huffing and puffing with frustration ...well done.

Which page of the Owner's Handbook is this one on?

I think that his powers of ESP are on overload................how did he know I was complaining about him being unreasonable, just how does he do it? 

Some part of my argument about the unreliability of Internet and the vagaries of my phone seems to have got through to him. 

He seems to have grasped it......without me becoming bratty and shouting and stomping and complaining about my lot.

So his solution is............................I have five minutes to log in every hour, from the o'clock to five past, to see if he is there, if he has left me a message or ...whatever.......

Sometimes I just wonder where they get these plans from...is there some secret  "Owner's Handbook", where they can look up more and more fiendish things to do, more warped mind activities to carry out ....just to remind us who is in control ?

 Or is it a prerequisite of every owner to have this mind set............?

I'm not complaining ...honest I'm not, its better than being in trouble.

my act of defience (see previous post)

Tonight for my dinner...I didn't eat food...I ate jelly babies...2 of every colour and bit the heads of each one first....yeah and I feel good....................:)  Think I might be the one with its head in it hands though, maybe the sugar rush is getting to me.
Eating jelly babies, the height of my defiance.........................How perspective changes.

Note to self: Do not email/ text or call owner at present, wait until silly head has been replaced with normal slave head....mmmmmm jelly babies....step away from the jelly babies

Biting my tongue at unreasonable expectations

Sometimes being apart makes life very difficult, and for some reason either he fails to, or chooses not to understand that I cannot be online all the time, and that my computer/phone doesn't do a song and dance every time he logs on, especially when he is online and not visible.

However I think my extra sensory powers of prediction are meant to be able to predict it...........and they don't.

I want to tell him he is being unreasonable, that I cant always be there for him to talk to when he wants. But he knows this anyway.

I want to tell him he is being VERY unreasonable.......but I cant.

I have and he says, yes that its true, but he still sends me messages about not being online.

I want to SCREAM....................... but I wont.

I will bite my tongue.
I will sulk.
I will fume inside.
I will have to tell him in the end.............something he already knows.

I know he is just making a point.
That I am unavailable because he has allowed me to be unavailable.

I still want to scream and stamp my feet at the unfairness  of his comments.

His hands are big.

His hands are big.

The gentle caress as he strokes my hair, teasing his finger through it, untangling the knots of my sweat dampened hair. Twisting his fingers through my hair and closing his hand, slowly pulling my head back until my throat is exposed. Pulling me by my hair, as I scramble behind him on my knees across the room to be pushed into the corner, or pulled up to suck his cock. His hand on the back of my head, fingers entwined in the hairs at the nape of my neck, forcing him deeper down my throat, my hair covered in cum.

His hand cupping my breasts, gently circling them, stroking, making me squirm with delight. Fingers playing with my nipples, rolling them between finger and thumb, gently teasing and pulling, tracing the shapes of my nipple, then squeezing, cruelly twisting and pulling; bringing tears to my eyes and sobs catching in the back of my throat as the pressure increases. Flicking my tender nipples, slapping, twisting and squeezing my breasts, punching, bruising and scratching.



Gentle erotic finger, teasing the lips of my cunt, exploring opening the folds and finding that spot that brings me to the point of explosion, pulling away, knowing just what to do till I am shaking and begging for permission.. Fingers forced inside, one after the other, pounding and digging, scratching, pulling until I want to retreat away from them ,hurting and demanding

The lightest of touch on my face with his fingers, tracing the shape of my lips, running over my eyes lashes, the base of my throat. The suddenness of the slap, stinging and burning, the shock of the noise as his hand moves past my ears and connects with my face. His fingers forced into my mouth, examining me, pulling my mouth wider , pushing down my throat, or wet from my cunt demanding to be cleaned.

 His finger running with the touch of  the softest feather down my spine, teasing the shape of my buttocks, to the base of my spine, his hand stroking my back. The first slap, hot and sudden, followed by more and more, a pattern building ,faster and faster, harder and harder, each cheek wanting more, my inability to prevent the need to lift up and meet his hand, until the slaps become interspersed with a fist striking my cheeks, the tempo changing. The floating away on the pain, the submissiveness it fills me with, the humiliation I feel as he tells me why he has to do this to me.

Fingers travelling down from my jaw, making me purr with pleasure, rubbing my tired neck, easing the troubles of the day away.Gently stroking, relaxing. The  gradual increased pressure on my throat. My eyes drawn to his face as the pressure increases, feeling each individual finger as it closes, tighter and tighter, restricting the air as I begin to drift away, filled with peace and trust.

The gentle big hands cupping my face, moving my damp hair from my face, the fingers wiping away my tears, hands wiping my face with a cool flannel, rubbing in cream and tending to cuts, loving, reassuring hands.


One hand on me as I fall asleep beside him, the other,  holding the end of my rope.

His hands are big

Christmas Wishes

Wishing everyone a happy, fun and safe Christmas,

My place is face down on the floor.

This morning we were able to talk, I was able to see him.

I woke in the night and realised that he was there. I said hello, and he told me to go back to sleep and then I struggled and struggled to sleep...wanting to talk to him, wanting to hear his voice.. but he as having none of it.

I tried again, I interrupted what he was doing.............and he ignored me.

I tried once more.........and I was told to do as I had been told.

When I woke up at the proper time, I greeted him as I always do, waiting to be allowed to get up and he left me there. I didn't want to call his attention again, I knew he knew I was there and so I waited ...almost patiently.

When he was ready, we talked. We talked about the last few days where we have had little contact about what I had been doing, how I was feeling and he said I looked like I was feeling a little lost, I told him I was fine, he said I looked lost, I said I was fine.....................he was right.

We had more discussion about how I was feeling, the conclusion that he came to was that I needed reminding of my place............so still in my rope which binds my feet, no more than 4 inches apart, up my back, round my neck and my hands bound before me in a noose, I was sent to stand my the wall with the pegs on my nipples and I was to think of nothing but him, to ignore any noise, any sound I heard, any thought that entered my head I was to dispel and I was to wait.

I stood for two hours.

When he called me back I knelt before him. 

I had to get the hood and place it over my head and then tie my hands behind my back.

I was instructed to lie face down on the floor, cross my legs at the ankle and to wait.

It is difficult to lie down without smacking your your head on the floor, somehow I managed it and as I lay down and felt the pegs on my nipples dig in, his voice filled my head.

"This is your place, this is where you will wait for me, you are a slave, this is your place."

And so that is it. From now on. I do not have to wait  like that for him to appear, but once I am talking to him, if he tells me to wait, I will wait like that; hooded, face down, legs crossed with the pegs on my nipples pressing into me to remind me of what I am and where my place is.

Pain is a gift from him.

Sight is a gift from him.

Movement is a gift from him.

An unrestricted breath is a gift from him.

His time is a gift.

Any can be given and any can be taken away.

He knows I am there and I must wait until he is ready and if he is not ready, I must wait anyway.

The thoughts I had today

Today I was by myself and it was wonderful.

I do like the company of other people. I also love sitting in a room surrounded by people, or watching people at airports, watching the ebb and flow,the purpose with which people move, the expressions on their faces, the myriad of emotions on display.

I like overhearing half conversations, either because it is "half a conversation", like overhearing a phone call, or just being able to hear snatches of a whole conversation; the interplay of words, expression , intonation and questioning.

I like being able to watch people talk when I can't hear them, watching their faces their body language and how they become part of their surroundings or are completely cocooned in their own private world.

I love the fact that it is like a snapshot of people's lives, a moment frozen in time, an distorted opinion of what and who they are that often bears no relation to reality.........that's what I like about it........its like a play, with an ever changing company of characters.

But today I was by myself....in my car. Isolated in my own little world, my own little environment where I get to control the temperature, the sounds I hear and even to a great extent the sights I see.

I was in control, there was no one but me. In my car is one of the places I think, so is the shower, and my favourite place is sitting on the beach gazing out at the ocean. I like the fact that its ever changing but also entirely predictable.

So today in the think that I was thinking, I thought about the year that I have had, the year we have had. How far I have come, how he has taught me, led and guided me. The level of his patience when I close down and find it hard to be as open as he demands.

I thought about how he has let me live the life I needed to lead, how he allowed me to leave when it was needed and how he has worked so hard to find the time, against all the odds to ensure that things remain the same. I have thought how he has supported me through some difficult times this year and how I know that the support will continue.

I thought about how he seems to instinctively know what it is I need and that sometimes he just does it and other times he makes me work it out, ask for it, beg for it and then thank him when he has finished.

I though about how he has beaten me, with his hand, his fist, canes, whips, crops, anything that he thinks will be effective, how I have dreaded it and how I have longed for it with every cell in my body, how my whole body has hurt and  how it has stopped my heart hurting.

I thought about how I have been bound and restrained; how there have been times when I haven't been able to move at all, how other times any movement will result in pain and discomfort. Other times I have had to ask before moving at all, and how many hours I have been at the end of his rope.

I thought of the times he has stroked my hair, allowed me to kneel at his feet, my head on his knee, how he has held me and comforted me, soothed me while I sobbed from pain, and how he has lifted me up and looked into my eyes and I have seen his happiness, his pleasure and his pride.

I thought of the times he has rammed his cock into me, forcing it down my throat till I gag and plead for breath, how he has pounded  into me until I am too sore to walk, and of the pleasure he gets from it, and how he allows me to cum, how I have to cum for him and being allowed to have his cock in my mouth and the pleasure I get from that.

I thought about he times he has humiliated me, made me feel less than nothing, just a thing for his amusement, a toy for his pleasure, for him to use and hurt for his own enjoyment and I have realised that this does not make me less than nothing, it makes me what I am, his slave.

I thought about when he has quietened me with a single look, made me still with a single word.

I thought about how he has enslaved my soul, my life and my heart and by doing so has set me free

Slave disease and humbugitius

I think I may have that Christmas slave disease.......................Blahness, with symptoms of disinterest, bah humbugitius and general "is it all over yet ?" fever.

Somehow I just cant get in the mood. I have a  tree, I even made a decoration I looked at some food in the shop, but then walked away thinking..........................."There are a few more days to go anyway, so if I buy it now........".

I have a few cards even, that appeared in the post in the last few days...scenes of snow and cold things. All I can think of at the moment to do on Christmas, is ................shall I swim before or after breakfast?

I am not sure that the 12 hours sleep I had yesterday have  done any good, I am wiped out again. I told him that I had not done some of the things that I am meant to do each night, expecting some sympathy or a little understanding when I explained my reasons......and his reply was.....?

"And ?"

Note to self: when feeling tired, do not expect sympathy from  him. I told him he was mean. His response?

"And ?"

 So better hop to it then and do all the things before I crash into my bed, and when he comes on to talk to me.............hmmmmm.....

my response, in my head at least may well be.............

"And ?"

12 long hours

Twelve long blissful hours of sleep.........just what I needed........feel full of energy again.

Last night I was too tired to do some of the things I am meant to do, and now I will have to confess and will be punished for it, there are no excuses, tiredness is not an option. I could have text and asked to be excused, but I was too tired to text.....maybe he will have some Christmas spirit.

That hand on my hair.

Tired, tired, tired.

Worn out, exhausted, and so far beyond tired.

This slave is going to bed early with a good book, (Reading Lolita in Tehran) and doesn't expect to read more than two pages before she falls asleep.

This slave has had a long , hard stressful day and would like nothing more than to lie near her owner, curled at his feet, with this hand on her hair, but she is much  more likely to have to suck his cock, be used, abused , humiliated, and tend to his needs first.........so.......................on this occasion is actually quite relieved with the seven thousand mile separation tonight...............oh but I do miss that hand on my hair.....on my skin...on my.........

How do you do this whole thing anyway?

When you have managed things, your life, your emotions by yourself for a long time. When you have had to deal with things on your own, or compartmentalised your life and shared different bits with different people, but never all of the truth to anyone.
When you look back and realise from an early age you lived your life like a MI5 spy. Not the lying and deception, the manipulation, but just running your life like a spy ring, having mental "Dead letter boxes" and small groups of just interconnecting friends and large groups of acquaintances and one or two people that you trust completely...openness its a challenge.

All of these things make you into the person you are. I remember being told as a child I was secretive; not sneaky, secretive, and as a teenager, and as an adult.
It used to irritate me to be called that. This was for two reasons, firstly, I'm not by nature and secondly, all you had to do was ask the right question at the right time and I would have told anything.

I would have opened my heart up and told you anything and everything  But nobody ever really did when I was younger. I don't know if no body ever really bothered or they tried, and got little response, so didn't bother again.

My grandfather and I were sharers of secrets; how to plants seeds, where the sweets were hidden in the kitchen. How to 'read" clouds to tell if it was going to rain, how to calm a frightened dog, the best walk trough the woods to see the first bluebells in spring...all those were the best of secrets, but when you are five or so, these are important things...

I realised recently that the reason I said nothing to anyone else, wasn't that I was hiding some big dark secret inside, I wasn't.....I just had got to the point where I really thought no one would be that interested anyway, there wasn't a lot to tell.........so on the odd occasion anyone asked, I just didn't say much.
The only person who asked was my mother and I have come very recently to the scary understanding that she wanted to know because she is just damn nosey and likes no one to have any privacy.

It wasn't a wish to understand me and know how I was feeling, just nosiness.

My whole adult life I have managed to keep things inside me. On the surface people will see the person they think I am. I am not being deceitful or untrue, just operating by that inbuilt, and "over the years"   learned behaviour...............if you don't expose yourself no one will come and stamp all over your feeling and destroy you.................except anyone past 20 knows that its not an easy way to go through life and it doesn't work anyway.

At this point I had put some other stuff in here and then deleted it because I felt it said too much............and now I don't know whether to laugh or cry about it..............but it stays deleted.

So when my owner goes on about openness he is fighting years and years of a well learned and managed habit. I think I could never get a  job at wiki leaks.

So yesterday when I was in trouble again for failing to tell him something he couldn't understand why I hadn't told him. I wasn't being secretive, I wasn't not telling him stuff, I just didn't think that it was important enough to register.............and this juicy bit of information that has got me into trouble?
A job offer..............not one on a piece of paper with a job description and a mention of a salary, not one outlining all the benefits and the risk assessment..........no its a job offer of a leaving colleague"if you want t a job in ***********, just call me, there will always be a job for you" sort of job offer.

Well...................very kind of you, thank you, but I don't want a job in ************, too dangerous.
So I had smiled and said, thank you, and not registered it as anything other than that.

THEN, last night when talking I jokingly said something about "When when you throw me out, when I am old, at least I will be able to go to work in ************* as I have a job offer".

 You could have heard a pin drop.

I begged him not to be cross..........tried to explain the nature of the offer etc etc
nine thousand questions later, I was sent to bed with the "We''ll talk about this later".

I wish he could see I wasn't hiding anything, I wasn't being secretive, or not opening up...................its just that it wasn't important enough to register or mention and ................

Oh whats the point....................

I will never get this openness bit right.

My aching heart

This morning we were talking, about Christmas  and all things cold, about dresses that he likes me to wear, about when he took me to a casino and left me there playing on a machine and how there were several men wanting to talk to me, and how polite I was to them, flirting yet behaving.
He talked about how he watched me proudly, and enjoyed watching me because he knew I was his and would be going home with him.. How all he had to do was catch my eye and I would walk to his side.

He was saying nice things to me, kind, loving things.

He told me to lie down and put the cam on my face, so he could watch me as I made my self cum. He asked me to remember the last time we were together and touch myself like he touched me.

And I couldn't.

I just couldn't do it.

The tears started.
I wiped them away with the back of my hand, hoping he hadn't seen.

I tried again, thinking about how he had laid me on the bed and instructed me to open myself  for his inspection.

And the tears returned.

I just couldn't stop them.
It wasn't that I didn't want to do what he said, I was just so overwhelmingly sad. I miss him so much.
I couldn't bear it.

I turned away from him.

He called my name, asked what was wrong.

I couldn't say.

I had no words to explain how desolate I felt at that moment, and so I just looked at him, it was all I could do.

"Oh my slave. it is not for ever, you jut have to be brave. You are mine now and forever".
He talked..................And it felt like he had lifted my heart and wrapped his hands gently round it, caressing it, soothing my aching soul.

And he spoke loving kind words to me. I do not know what they were, but the thousands of miles drifted closer and closer until I felt we were as one.
And I fell asleep, as if I were in his arms.
My heart still aches for him.............

I must send him a good book

I think a lunch hour is a dangerous thing..............

I was happily chatting away about what a lovely day I had had, doing the things he said I could, telling him how much I had enjoyed it,when he said

"Cane and hood"

I almost leaped out of my skin.

"You will put on the hood, and use one hand to cum and the other hand to hold the cane and use it on your tits"

Oh I pulled a face, not a  big one, just a small,"ouch that's going to be difficult one".

"I saw that, if I see a face like that again, I will do a lot more".
 And so as I pulled the hood over my head, I began to hate his plan, his spare time, doesn't  he have work to do?

It is difficult to cane your own tits at the best of times, but whilst having to cum too. I've never been able to play the piano, two hands doing different things at the same time.

I was allowed to stop and remove the hood when I had cum.

Well normally...........................he has got me so well trained that I can cum quickly, not to order, but quickly. But today...........not easy, it was frustrating, and I could hear him chuckling, enjoying himself.

And finally, on my knees, with the hood over my head, the cane striking my tits again and again, catching my nipple bars, making me wince and squirm, my fingers desperately working on my cunt to bring my self to that leg shaking point of pleasure...I came.

I knelt there, catching my breath, removed the hood.

"Get ready for bed".

I crawled into bed,

I must buy him a good book; one with a gripping storyline, for those spare moments, when he needs distracting, relaxing , to take his mind off things,so he doesn't think..".hmmmmmmmmm, I'll just get the cane and..........".

Any suggestions?

A day filled with happiness.

Today was a happy day.......filled with laughter, sunshine and happiness...........................and now I get to talk to him tonight and tomorrow.................happiness is easy to achieve when everything I am, everything I am allowed to have  and everything I am allowed to do is a gift from my owner.

I love my rope

I spoke to him last night, but it was just a quick go to bed early, have a long sleep and talk in the morning.....oh and don't forget the rope.

I have missed my rope, silly though it is, one short length of rope, just a plain one; not too soft and not too rough, just a  rope.

At one end of the rope is a noose.

Each night I have to hang my rope so the end of the noose is just level with my nipples and then loop it once around my neck, not a whole 360, but 180.
As I drop it down behind me, I feel it fall against my bare ass, and land in a tangle on the upturned soles of my feet.


I carefully untangle it and slide it under my ankles, without letting the other end move, then around again. Holding it in place I sit on the floor and begin to wrap it around my ankles in a figure of eight, securing it, so there is a gap between my feet, but no more than will allow me to hobble.

I must then make sure that I am ready for bed, that everything is done, that the light is down low, that the computer is on and that the web cam is positioned correctly and on. When I am sure everything is done as per his instructions, I must put my hands in the noose and tighten it until my hands are firmly together, in front of me, positioned just between my breasts

Sometimes I am allowed to watch a DVD, but mostly I have to sleep. He thinks I don't sleep enough, he thinks I wake up too much, too early.

I have nightmares, I always have, ever since I can remember. I still remember some of them from my childhood...scary scary nightmares...some of them make sense, most  of them don't.

If he is there when I am sent to sleep I fall asleep in minutes, if he is not, it takes longer.

I don't fight my rope any more, I love my rope. I sleep mostly peacefully.

When I am away and can't have it, I feel naked.........I need to to feel my owner tug the rope, to feel his hands wrap it round my ankles, to watch his fingers slide the noose tighter around my wrists ....oh please................ be soon.

I saw a "kick ass' snake the other day.

It was a "kick ass snake"....and it wasn't belonging in a pair of trousers either...it was a real life, don't take your eyes off it, back away slowly, think "antidote, antidote"...snake with fangs, stripes, scales and everything. 

And

 If I had been stupid enough to lay down next to it.........................it would have been longer.

ergh!

BTW: I didnt take the photo, hard to when your backing off at 90kph....but it looked like this...only awake.

I have been away again, and snatched conversations, lost calls, half sentences, feeling lost and needing my owner more than ever....I am so glad to be back again and no longer incommunicado.

Oh AND

I am so surprised....I know in the greater blog scheme of things its not a lot.....but I have had over 1000 hits...wow...so thank you to all of you who have stopped by...you are very welcome.

I hate magnolia walls

I stopped waiting.

The sound of him signing in to the computer made me jump as I sat there waiting. His typed "Hello" gave nothing away. His inquiry into my day was polite and formal, therefore, so was my answer.

 He then started to probe into my brain like he does.

Why had I been behaving the way I had?
Why had I thought it would be ok if didn't do what I was meant to?
How could I forget to do something so embedded into my life, it should be as part of my day without conscious thought?
Why had I once again, got to a point,when he had had to ask what was wrong ,rather than me telling him?

At which point half of me wanted to slink under the floorboards with that gut wrenching feeling that you get when you know you have let your owner down, the one that makes everything wince and each word seems to lash at your heart and soul.................

But the other half of me wanted to shout"well I cant tell you how I am feeling if you are not here, if you talk for five minutes and send me to bed, how can I tell you anything if you are too busy to talk, if you are awake when I am asleep and asleep when I am awake, if you keep making me sleep?"

Which of course is not true at all, because all I had to do was send him an email telling him.....that was all and he would have done something............instead I let how I was feeling eat away inside me, till I felt like he was pulling away, till I felt that our connection was flickering like a unshaded light bulb in an empty house......................all I had to do was send an email.

So i didn't shout or scream or stamp my foot and complain about how I hate being away from him, or how hard it is, how much I miss him, or any of that.
I knelt and let his words wash over me, soothing me, caressing my heart.

And then he reminded me that I am for now and for ever his slave, his property to which he can do anything with, no matter how far away I am, or how disconnected I feel, how much I think something else is important, he is always the most important thing on my list.

He told me to get the red rope from the bag he gave me when I left. It feels smooth in my hands, sometimes I run it through my fingers when I am talking to him. I was instructed to tie knots along its length, 10cm apart , all the the way along, and then to make a rope bra, as tight as i could, to kneel and wait for him.

I saw him smile before he logged off, and my hands began to shake slightly as I tied the knots. Did I have to tie them 10 cm apart or should they be 10cm apart when there were tied? There is a difference. I tried to remember what he had said, and thought.....this is what he means about paying attention, about focusing on what he says, not half listening.  I decided that it was 10 cm between the knots and so I began to tie them all. It is hard to be certain they were 10cm apart but I guessed as best I could and then began to make the rope bra.

Pulling it tightly round my breasts, leaning into it and pulling feeling the knots beginning to dig in, knowing that if it was not tight enough for him then I would have to do it again. I know I can never do any of the rope work like he does, but I did try my hardest and when I was finally pleased with the results I knelt still, and waited for him.

He returned after about 10 more minutes with a cup of tea, and I had to show him every inch of the rope, he examined it closely, and then checked my slowly  darkening breasts, admiring the tightness of the skin, the straining of my nipples against the bars he inserted before I left.

The four pegs were placed on me, one of each nipple, one I couldn't  feel and one bit into me like the teeth of a doberman on crack. He smiled as I winced, he smiled as I wriggled to get comfortable with the pegs on my cunt.

And then I was sent to the wall to think about my behaviour.

I know I am not allowed to move when I am at the wall, I know it is important that I am comfortable when I get there so I remain still. Sometimes I close my eyes and rest my head against the cool of the wall, letting it fill my head.and I drift off.

"Open your eyes"

Io i stared at the magnolia paint, slowly at first the minutes ticked by, I can tell how long I am there by the number of cycles the air con goes through. I can tell, if I count seconds.

"Turn the air con off and stop counting"

Damn how does he know..................so I crawled across the room and got the air con control and turned it off. I faced the wall and stared at the magnolia paint.1 ....2....3....

"no counting and NO 13 times tables"
 so I ran through a few lists in my head......................jobs to do, shopping to get, paperwork to fill
 and when I had nothing left to think about ...........
I began to do as i was told.

I could feel the rope digging into me, ,the knots felt hot, like smouldering coals.........I felt hot.

and as my mind emptied, I did do as I was told, and I did think of him and what I should have done how I should have behaved, where I had let things slip.

and again I was sad. sad I had let him down

Sad I had not spoken up about how I was feeling
 And all the feelings that had begun to grow in me filled me, and poured from me as I began to cry.
He left me there staring at the magnolia paint until I was calmer, until my sobs had stopped, until my breathing returned to normal until I was still.
Once more I was still.................and he called me.

I returned to him  and knelt before him waiting for him to speak to me. I looked at the little clock on the side of the screen..........................more than an hour had passed since he first put me to the wall......I was surprised.

I cant really remember what he talked about exactly, I cant recall the words he used, but it was about control, about use and limits and his pleasure and my role in life. About being open , about trust.
I remember him saying that he can do whatever he likes to me
" Do 50 star jumps, 50 press ups and 50 sit ups, you have 5 minutes, if it takes you longer you will do it all again, and you will keep doing it until you do it in the time:"

The ropes and the knots in the rope bit into my skin, like sharp hot knives twisting and rubbing against the soft skin under my breasts, the tightness of  the rope against my swollen breast brought tears to my eyes, the pressure of gravity dragged on them making them feel heavy beyond belief , but I struggled , worked had and when I had finished I knelt as instructed with my legs closed tightly against the cunt pegs. tears filling my eyes, my chest heaving.

"Good girl".

I smiled at him, and he smiled back.

"Get your toy, and put it in, put the cam on your cunt and make yourself cum"
The mixture of pain and pleasure. Pain from the pegs and pleasure from the toy.........confused me, sent me spiraling away into some dark corner of my soul...........I tried to ask for permission to cum, I really did, the words were in my head. I am sure I sent the message to my lips, but nothing came out. and so as I came, without permission I was filled with pain, pleasure and slight uncertainty as to his reaction.

I lay on the bed, hot and sweaty, sore, bruised, a dripping cunt and a dreamy smile on my face.

"Undo the rope".

I started to undo the rope but I couldn't find the end. I began to panic, and then I lost the Internet connection.
I felt the panic rising in me , I searched , pulling at different bits, trying to find it, but I couldn't. I tried to calm myself, tried to breath, panic rising...............and then he came back.

Hearing his voice"Stop"

He began to talk to me like a child, like someone who has been lost; who is frightened. And following his instructions. I undid the rope.

He allowed me a drink, told me to eat a biscuit and told me to lie down.

And as I lay there, he told me how proud he was of me, how I am a good slave, how I do whatever he asks me, how he understands how hard it is for me, how he misses me and cant wait for me to be back at his feet, on the end of my rope, and how much I please him.
he told me to close my eyes...........................

Hours later when I woke up, he was still there, watching me, and again he told me to
"sleep my sweet slave" and I did.

Each ache soothed by knowing he was there.

I am his slave, my heart and soul and calm once more
.
.

waiting

Just sitting................................waiting.........................nothing more.

Those dreaded words.............

I don't seem at the moment to be able to get anything right.

Everything I do seems to be not quite right, not up the the mark..he said the words I dread the most............

"You have let me down, I am disappointed in you, in how you are behaving"

*sigh*

Tears....lots of tears

Then he said "It is partly my fault too, as I have been so busy". and although that maybe true, and I MUST believe it because  he has said that is how it is..........I felt no better.

I want the duvet over my head, I want to hide from him and not see the disappointment in his eyes, hear it in his voice, see it printed on the page.

I need him to punish me. I need to be punished .

I need to try harder and be better, to listen more carefully and pay attention. To behave as I have been taught.

I need him to punish me, so I can focus on what is needed, and know he has forgiven me, so i can bring myself to look at him again, and not see the disappointment that I have caused.

I need to be able to kneel at his feet after my punishment, and be allowed to put my head on his lap and head his hand stroke my hair.

I need him.

You know when you know you are in trouble and your heart just sinks, and you know you have to 'fess up

Well, I knew I was in trouble, I am in trouble.

I have a work commitment tonight, after my usual time, after the time I told him i would be home today.

I did know about it a few weeks ago, but I forgot to mention it, and I knew about it at the end of last week, and I forgot to mention it.

And I know he is very good about my work, very understanding, and doesn't make me pay for the lack of time sometimes when it would be more convenient for him.

And I have done this before....maybe even twice....

Deep trouble is what I am in.

I think if I had a dog house that's where I would be.

He is not happy.

And he is silent.

And so now I have something else to think about too.

And I will have to explain myself , why I didn't tell him, why I failed to remember...do you think using my age is a good enough excuse? Maybe that I am busy?

Maybe I will try......maybe not!

I will be punished, of that there is no doubt.

Three strikes and I'm out.

Swimming in the rain

Today I went swimming in the rain.

Not the gentle"kiss your eyes lashes, soft focus, run through a summer meadow with a book over your head, laughing gently "type of rain.

Not the steady drizzle of an autumn day rain, where everything is shrouded in a swirling mist, and slowly seems to soak through sort of rain.

No

I went swimming in hard arse rain, the "hurt your arms, give you bruises, freeze your brain, soak you instantly" sort of rain.

And it was bliss.....invigorating. enlivening, exhilarating, and absolutely freezing.

When I got back to my car, I put the heating on.

when I got home, I stripped and dropped my soaking clothes onto a cold floor, the clothes that were soaking from the mad dash "pool to car sort of soaking"). I made myself a hot chocolate, curled up in a blanket on a chair outside , watched the rain pour from a leaden sky, and drifted off to sleep................

I woke to find a small cat on my lap , and some watery rays of sun catching my feet.....................

Simple things.
(doesn't mean I have stopped pondering though!)

Pondering my place

Last night we talked briefly................he told me he was glad I was back safely, that he had missed me, and that, in the words that make various bodily parts of me clench, shake, moisten, quiver, sink, leap, spin and feel all peculiar, he said...................."hmmmmm, ahhhhhhhh, ohhhhhhhhhh, " as he put me under the metaphorical microscope..............."I think.............we need some time..........I need to use you, for you to feel my control, and this time it is going to be hard, very hard and you will ask me, beg me for it, and thank me when I am done with you".

And from some where deep inside a whispered voice replied "Yes please Sir".

So now I have to wait to see, I am left to ponder without trying to think about it.

No second guessing.

No predictions.

Just pondering

I cannot ask, I cannot cajole, or push or introduce it as a topic for discussion, or whinge or whine.

Nothing

So I wait, until he is ready, until he has thought exactly what he wants, needs to do, until then........................I am allowed to ponder my place, my purpose, my role................no more

back

I am back ............tired, hot, but home. Waiting for the chance to talk with my owner again...............

No sleeping on the bed

He feels that my impending weekend away necessitates some reminder for me about control, a reminder of what I am.

Last night I was sent to be early with some ice cubes. Before he has melted them in my cunt, but this time he used them to chill my nipples bars.......................what kind of wicked mind thinks that? Does he not know how painful it is? Doesn't he..........?

Oh yes he does.

I waited for some more things from the list to be used, waited on my knees with my rope around my neck; once again tight enough to feel, but no more.

And pegs were on my ears to remind me to listen.

He reminded me that I have no rights, nothing is guaranteed. the only thing that is for sure in my life is that I am his slave.

Anything I am given can be taken away............anything.

My cup was taken away......................and now I am only allowed to lap from the plastic plate he has given me., with a reminder that that too can be taken.

I was placed once again, face down on the  hard wooden floor, with the pegs on my half frozen nipples, arms behind my back, legs crossed and that hated hood on.

And he left me.

And he left me; I could hear nothing but the fan slowly moving the hot air around the room.

And I waited, and waited. Slowly my nipples thawed out and the pain set in. feeling the wooden floor pressing against my squashed nipples.

And I could feel my cunt clenching, becoming wetter despite myself.

Finally I heard him return and waited for him to speak. Time passed slowly...very slowly.
and then he talked again about what I am allowed, what I have a right to.

 When he allowed me to remove the hood,I realised I had been lying on the floor for over  an hour. I was so close to falling into that blissful floaty place, where I seem incapable of doing anything, yet will do anything he says. where I remember almost nothing, but images gradually float back into my mind, snatched phrases, feeling, sounds.

He did not want me to go there and so, a few choice words and I was back.

He had me  complete my night time rituals, remove the pegs, get ready for bed...............and just as I was about to climb onto the bed....................STOP, NO BED.

And so last night I slept on the hard wood floor, my arms and feet bound as usual, a thin cover, one small pillow..........................and ......

I was grateful for all of, I slept like a baby, curled up, restricted by the rope, or opened out with my hands over my head and my legs like a frog...........feeling open, exposed, submissive,  oh so submissive and very happy.

And tonight he has more plans.

Impending doom, throw away phrases and his list.

You know that feeling of impending doom that settles on us from time to time, the sinking feeling, the one where you feel you are waiting for something to happen. It might not happen to you, it might not even happen to someone you know, but something will happen...and when it does...you think..."aaaaaaah yes, that why I had the impending doom feeling.

 Well I have the first part of that...its hanging over me...impending doom.

But instead of it being an unknown, I know who its going to happen to ...its going to happen to me.

 My owner has been muttering, just throw away phrases, that on their own mean little or nothing , but when you add them together........that cloud descends.

It has taken me some time to learn not to think about things that will happen, to not try and second guess him, to wait to be told, to not think.....just do.....and I know he can see me squirming inside ...but I'm not wondering...honest!

Plates, ropes, ice cubes, chopsticks, more ropes,  a pillow case, pegs (obviously), a foot scrubber thing, a pen, a long thin bamboo cane, a hammer, ... tell me you would not wonder.

And the list continues.................

A huge storm is raging

A huge storm is raging outside.

The lightning is filling the sky as the sun sets, and the trees from the jungle seem to loom closer, bending in the sudden wind squalls. The rain is falling in torrents from dark sky and the noise from the combination of rain and thunder is deafening. 

The rain splashes on the ground and rebounds a foot into the air; air which smelts hot, wet and full of rotting vegetation.

The thunder either claps like a large brown paper bag bursting over head , or rumbles round the towering nimbus clouds.

And in the time it has taken me to type , the sun has set...................and now the lightning is filling the sky with bluey green flashes and the smell is reminiscent of fireworks.

I love the moments just before a storm breaks, when you know its coming, when those sudden fierce gusts of wind rattle windows, send leaves scurrying across the ground, and the strange smell in the air...of rain and heat and noise.

I love the moment when the first drops of rain fall on grass and everything smell green, or on hot roads and pavements when the air is filled with the smell of hot dust. 

I love the way the lightning fills the sky, distorting and changing images, or snakes down from the sky, searching for the ground, like a living being.

I love the rain, oh how I love the rain, soft and gentle, like a gentle falling mist, then hard and torrential, when it hurts to be in it, filing the ground, warm puddles to wiggle your toes in, watching it pouring off gutters and roof and the flickering reflections thrown up by the storm's light.

I'm off to sit outside and watch.

Everyday I am thankful.

As a non American, I don't celebrate Thanksgiving, but I wish I did.

I think its a wonderful thing to do, to have a special time of each year set aside to think about and give thanks for what is good in your life; those things, big and small that give you joy and happiness and make you feel blessed.
A time free from commercialism, to spend with those you love, to contact those you cannot be with, a time to count your blessings.

I used to do it on March 21st every year, as finally the days started to lengthen, giving thanks for the passing of the winter and a new year. Had I been a Zoroastrian it would have been perfect, but I'm not.

However, that's when I did it.

But now......I have no beginning of Spring.

I don't do the whole "New Years Eve" thing.

But I am thankful..............everyday..................sometimes I just need to remind myself.

Shared past and a stupid song

Yesterday morning, I was so looking forward to talking to him. Our connection was restored, I felt good.
He was happy too and once again in a silly mood. We are roughly the same age and he has all these expectations that we have many shared past experiences, shared social memories of TV programmes, childhood activities, remembered foods etc. But what he often forgets is that we grew up very differently. He is always surprised when  I have no idea what he is talking about, that I really don't know.It's like there are big gaps in my past. I can hear the incredulity in his voice, the emphasis on the "how" the question "But HOW don't you know?"

He was not happy that I had no idea about a particular song; a song that is special to him. He tried to teach it to me................its a very very silly song, with silly lyrics , that are artificially manipulated to fit a tune and try as I might I couldn't remember the words( can you detect a little song snobbery here?).

I laughed, he laughed, I laughed some more as I tried to sing it for him.

Then I muttered under my breath"Stupid fucking song".

This was NOT a good move.

Not exactly the right thing to say when it is the song for his football team......he sent me away with strict instruction to learn the song and sing it the next day for him.

Well, I just did, and it was not right, not word perfect...I missed one word..................so by tonight I have to have it perfect...............or else!

Stupid fucking song.

This was control

Very slowly I wound the rope under my tits, and pulled, and kept pulling till he said stop. I tied them as he has shown me a hundred time, following his spoken instruction. I hadn't finished the last knot and already I could feel the pain...

Four pegs were already on me; One on each lip; two to remind me that I am allowed to speak when he chooses and two to remind me that every part of me is his. Ten more pegs, this time five on each engorged tit, the skin compressed between their biting edges, slipping, then gripping their vice like edges into the tender white skin. I waited for the next number, but it didn't come.

The rope cam next,round my neck, not tight, but just enough for me to feel it, like his hands that I miss, the touch of his skin, the squeeze on my throat......not tight......but just enough to remind me.

He talked about what was missing, what was wrong. what I am.

 I am a slave

 I have no limits

"No" is not a word in my vocabulary.

He made it clear I was not being punished, I had not done anything wrong. He had been  watching me closely, listening to me and could see and hear I missed his control and this was just a gentle(!) reminder.

And so I stood facing the wall..... trying to think about what I am, who I belong to, what he can do. and I did not move.

My head was flying around the place, list of things to do, jobs outstanding, places to be, dates to arrange...and slowly one by one the noise in my head subsided, it was quieter and I began to focus on him.

I was thirty minutes, it felt like five, but it was thirty.

"Come back to me" he said...I jumped and stood before him.

"Kneel, open your legs and put the toy in, then close them tight"

the pegs began to bite into my, hurting, a hot burning pain,making me whimper. I could hear it bouncing back on the satellite connection, and I felt ashamed. not a lot, but hearing my self, I could feel the blush creeping over my face.

He chuckled..."you can hear it , cant you?"

"yes Sir, I can"

"Make yourself cum'

 The pain ratcheted up in an instant, the pegs caught between my legs, one of them twisted around, each touch on my finger on myself brought more pain. Self inflicted ,unavoidable pain.

And despite myself I could feel the wetness, the need growing. My breath coming in short gasps, sweat beginning to form on my face,the ropes biting into my tits, my whole body beginning to shake with  a mixture of pain and pleasure, of longing and  of need........

.........and as I open my mouth to beg to be allowed to cum............

"STOP"

.

I knelt still, my hair damp with sweat, my eyes filled with tears of frustration and discomfort.

I  was given a choice....hit the pegs off with the cane he gave me, or jump up and down till they came off....so I chose the second option, thinking that the chances of me missing and hitting my nipples was greater than the pegs staying on too long.

I didn't look, I heard them fall off as I jumped, over and over again, first one, then 2,3 and 4...until all but 2 were left. I thought i would be there all night , jumping, without them moving. I had to pull them off and for once it was a relief.

"Get the hood"

I hate the hood, I hate the feeling of isolation, I hate it. It  is hot and stuffy and I think I cant breath,I hate not seeing anything, I hate it.

The pegs still on my lips, I put the hood on and lay face down on the floor, with my hands behind my back and my legs crossed and I tried to be calm. I tried to breath. I could hear his voice talking to me, telling me all I have to think about is him, nothing else, no one else.

He is my focus.

My bound tits felt like they would explode, the bars in my nipples would burst, splitting me open. they felt hot and sore and I couldn't think. I concentrated on his voice......

Slowly my head emptied, the noise subsided............quieter and quieter...until it was silent, and my mind filled with thoughts of him; of satisfying him, pleasing him, making him happy, and I relaxed, I felt no pain, no heat, nothing.

When he called my name...............it took a while to bring myself back, to get up and crawl back to him, to kneel before the camera, waiting to remove the hood.

He allowed me to take it off....................

"Oh that's better" he said, "you are smiling again".

And I was.

Off floating away, in my own place, the one I find, the one that finds me ...........and very gently he pulled me back, slowly talking to me, making me get ready for sleep, making me remove the last 4 pegs and ropes, checking me, gently talking to me, telling me how happy he was, how please he was. Telling me I was good.

I was cold. He allowed me my soft blanket, and as I wrapped myself up in in, feeling its softness sooth my sore skin his voice, his words, continued to sooth my heart,my soul.

I tied my nighttime rope to my feet and then hands and curled up and as I drifted off to sleep the sound of his voice in my ears with gentle words, my heart with happiness.

and I slept with a smile on my face.

I

This morning we talked again.
He made me look at him, in the eye. After all this time, does he not know how hard I find it? Of course he does, that's why he did it I guess.
Its so hard to hold his gaze, I desperately wanted to do as he says, to obey, yet my heart quaked beneath his piercing eyes, my submissive soul quivered under his domination.
I tried to do it, but no matter how hard, I found myself lowering my eyes.
He did not get cross. I heard him clear his throat. I looked up.
I looked again. It was like a battle inside my head.

Obey, obey, obey.
Submissive feeling don't look, submissive feelings don't look.

Obey won.

Then there was the thoughtful 'hmmmmmmmmmmmmm".

He told me I looked lost, like a small girl, unsure. without direction....................

And tonight he is going to solve this.
He has a plan.
I know what his plans include.

It includes lots and lots of questions, probing, searching deep within my heart. I feel like my brain is turned inside out , examined and put back together the way he wants, the way he likes, the way that is right.
It includes measured control; every moment, every breath, every word.

It includes pain. It is not the pain, it is the control that comes with it.

It includes openness, honesty, truth.

It includes humiliation.

It includes trust, total trust; unquestioning belief in what he does is what is good for me , what is right.

It is submission.

I am his slave.

celebrations

Happy Thanksgiving to all those celebrating today.

Crying

I don't know what is wrong. I really don't.

This morning I woke up, as I always do, and he was there waiting to talk to me. 

We talked about the night before when I had gone out and had come back and we had missed the time that had been set aside, and how he understood, we talked about me being sent to bed. 

We talked about why I couldn't sleep in the night and why once again he had resorted to me getting the rope and having my feet and hands bound.

We talked about my day ahead, and what I had to do. How he wanted me home straight from work, that I was to rest.

I showered, as I do for him every morning, so he can examine me, check that is property is in the sate he likes it; clean shaven. He likes to watch it happen, to make sure its done as he likes it, that my skin is creamed, that I am ready to dress in the clothes he has chosen.

And then.....................I had to cum for him, to stand against the wall and make myself cum (this time on 2 legs!). This is a normal part of my day, happening often. Nothing new.

I was overcome with feelings of sadness.

I sobbed and sobbed...and then I sobbed some more.

He stopped me and called me back to him, and I sobbed.

I couldn't tell him what was wrong....because I don't know

I remember saying sorry through the sobs, for not doing as I had been told. He reassured me it didn't matter, that it was ok. 

He wanted to know what was wrong and I couldn't tell him. He reassured me I would be ok.

Now I am waiting for him to talk to me.

sent to bed

When I got home he sent me to bed:(
with a quick goodnight and an order to think about him as I fall asleep ...like I don't every night.

Oops a cancelled date.

Schedules and timetables, time difference and lives have been getting in our way. Today I was meant to come straight home , via the gym and be ready to talk to him, be ready to spend time with him, and at 9.07 am this morning I was told I had, yes HAD, to go out to dinner tonight with some visiting professor.

I know it was 9.07, coz I looked at my phone hoping he would still be awake. Knowing he would ask me when I knew, why I hadn't told him. I didn't ring in case he was asleep, but sent an email, explaining what was going on, why the short notice etc. My phone seemed to burn a whole in my pocket all day.

Has he woken up?

 Has he seen it?

 What does he think?

 Is he awake?

Has he read it?


Now, I am a very fortunate slave, who has an owner who reassures me on a regular basis that I must do nothing to put myself, my job or anything else in jeopardy to accommodate him.However, he does expect to be fully informed and in plenty of time. So I knew I would not be in trouble, would not be punished, but I also knew he would be "less than happy".


 And as soon as I thought he would be awake, I called...and he was  "less than happy", but does understand, doesn't want me to be rude and rush to leave, but wants his time with me. So tonight is going to be a late one. And his "less than happy"...hmmmmm

He will make a point, just to remind me that whilst I have all these reassurances, first and foremost in my mind, must always be...

Him.

 And now he is here.

briefly

Early morning and Sunrise

This morning I woke just before the sun rose. As I looked outside I could see the mist rising out of the jungles, through the high canopy. The leaves glistening and dripping with morning dew.

The sound of the birds rising in a crescendo as the sun appeared over the invisible horizon.

I  half closed my eyes, ignoring the sudden increase in heat from the risen sun, and just for a moment, just one sweet moment, I was home on a cold and foggy November morning.

And then the heat from the sun and its retina burning bright light blasted me back into reality.

Last night I said no

We were playing last night, we had been talking for 3 hours and he decided it was time to play silly games again. We were laughng, he had me doing all sorts of silly things again, and I was laughing, thinking sometimes we all forget about the fun , the laughter and the joy that being a slave can bring.

We were laughing.

And then, "I know, we'll play truth or dare" And without thinking out of my mouth came that forbidden word. Although its not the word itself, its the intent behind it.

It was emphatic.

No

I wanted the ground to open up, I wanted the world to end.

I heard him ask, very quietly" What did you say?"

I couldn't answer him, I just couldn't , I couldn't speak, I couldn't look at him.

Silence...................

"Face the wall"

I stood facing the wall, tears pouring down my face, silently collecting under my chin, dropping onto the floor.
My shoulders began to heave, great sobs filled my chest, caught in my throat .......and escaped.

And I stood there filled with unhappiness and overwhelming shame.

He called me back to him.

I knelt...I waited.

" I should punish you" he said "but I see I don't need to".

And gently, very gently he talked to me, his voice caressing my bruised heart. He told me to look at him, and I did. I felt his love, his compassion, his understanding and his control.

"Truth or dare?"
'Truth Sir" I managed to answer
"What do you need most?"
"You Sir"

And I felt owned.

I felt free.

The waiting Game

She seemed to have spent her whole life waiting. Waiting like most people do.  She was, on the outside, just like most people.

As a child she waited for the her birthday, waiting for cards to drop through the door, she waited for Christmas, and that feeling of overwhelming excitement when she realised her stocking was full, and holding her breath for just a  extra second, she waited to peer inside.

She waited for the school bell, the end of term, which seemed to stretch out into infinity. She waited  for buses, trains and lots and lots of planes. She had lost count of the hours she had sat in cavernous airports and drafty train stations, at motorway cafés, and on the side of the road looking for a lift.

She waited.

 She was good at waiting.

 As a teenager she waited, like all teenagers d; for the phone to ring. She waited for the other person to hang up; laughing at their own inability to say goodbye.

She waited for people to change, to grow up, to look at their behaviour and find it wanting. She gave up waiting and left.

She waited twice for babies to come; holding them to herself, savoring the wait, enjoying those private moments late in the night , talking to them, telling them about the waiting game she played, and how she was waiting for their arrival.

She waited for him, night after night dreading his return, fearing the sound of the door opening. Her heart pounding.

And she lay beside him, silently, waiting for the alcohol to work, waiting for him to be fast asleep. And as she waited she planned her escape.

It was a long wait.

 She waited until she was ready, till she no longer cared if she lived or died, till he could hurt her no more, and she escaped.

Everyone else waited, waited for her to come back to life, for her vacant eyes to fill with life again.

She didn’t know she was waiting.

And then the sky was blue one day. And she noticed; and she knew she had stopped waiting.

And now.

Now she waits with her heart filled.

She waits for him. Her owner.

 She waits to talk to him. She waits to see him. She waits for his instructions, his orders. She waits.

She is still.

She waits until he asks her what she needs. She waits for the words to form in her head to explain to him how she feels and she waits to tell him.

 She waits on her knees.

This waiting is good….this feeling….this happiness…this total contentment…..this control.

This is what she has waited for.

The waiting is over.