A blog from a woman on a journey of discovery.

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Saturday, 11 December 2010

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
.
.

4 comments:

  1. You are such a good slave. I cam sure your Master must be very pleased with you. And thanks for sharing that hot scene.

    FD

    ReplyDelete
  2. i'm so glad i've found your blog...

    ReplyDelete
  3. sin...as always....thank you
    Florida Dom...not always so good , but thank you for your comment...I do try:)
    DL's toy...I'm glad I found your too...
    mutual admiration to you all

    ReplyDelete