I use the word home. i am in the right country, the counrty frm which I come, where most of my friends are, where my family is, and where my owner is......but I do not feel "home" yet.
I know when that will be...I know it will be when I am in my knees, naked, in front of my owner and he allows me to rise to greet him...that is when I will be home.
That will be in two days, two whole days.
He couldn't come to the airport to meet me, but we have spoken on the phone, skype, msn, yahoo, text....I am so close......so very close. And now I am counting the time in hours .....
and then I will be "home".
Monday, 31 January 2011
Friday, 28 January 2011
gone
I will be gone for a few days with no internet connection and then I will be on my way home....I haven't dropped off the planet , all is good, cant wait to get home and see my owner. Will be back soon.
Thursday, 27 January 2011
Just a perfect day.
He tricked me...he appeared for an hour this evening,we chatted, we laughed, I had to sing that stupid song to him about eight time...I have, like all of us, many talents, some of them dubious, but let me tell you singing is not one of them ...I blame my lovely dad who sings flatter than a pancake.....so every time I just got a fit of the giggles.
He then gave me s choice...the killer pegs from hell or the cold shower...which one didn't I want.. said I didn't want the pegs, so he had me turn on the shower, I got tentatively in, held my breath and waited for the pain from the first splash...but ....................no he got me out and then let me have a lovely warm one......till I wanted to get out. yes you read it right ............till I wanted to get out.............., had I endless hot water I would still be there now, four hours later..................
I have just had one of those perfect days, when everything is right with the world. A beautiful sunny day after weeks of rain, a coolish breeze, lovely lovely work friends, just everything right and then a fantastic mouth watering steak for dinner, and a little stray cat who has found her way to my house
He then gave me s choice...the killer pegs from hell or the cold shower...which one didn't I want.. said I didn't want the pegs, so he had me turn on the shower, I got tentatively in, held my breath and waited for the pain from the first splash...but ....................no he got me out and then let me have a lovely warm one......till I wanted to get out. yes you read it right ............till I wanted to get out.............., had I endless hot water I would still be there now, four hours later..................
I have just had one of those perfect days, when everything is right with the world. A beautiful sunny day after weeks of rain, a coolish breeze, lovely lovely work friends, just everything right and then a fantastic mouth watering steak for dinner, and a little stray cat who has found her way to my house
Wednesday, 26 January 2011
Humiliation , a cane and a cold shower.
Yesterday he sent me to go and buy a replacement rope for the ones I inadvertently left behind, so off I went, but it was at the end of a fifteen hour day, and I sort of was huffing and puffing about it, and then to be faced with the choice of 2, neither of which were like my own....I was not very happy...but I chose the smaller of the two as I didn't think I would be able to move in the other one.
When I spoke to him last night, he allowed me to tie my normal rope and then put it on, it was such a relief, and felt so lovely to have it there, and he didn't once mention why I had a new one.
He then announced that he would be using me for his pleasure, and he had a definite chuckle in his voice.
He told me it was not a punishment, just a gentle reminder, so one peg on my tongue, one on each each ear. one on each cunt lip and one on my stomach. I was then sent to face the wall and make sure the tongue peg was touching the wall.
I waited and waited there. I hate the drool, I really do, I hate the noise it makes when it falls on the floor, I hate the taste it leaves, the dryness in my mouth, the smell of drool is not nice, and I hate the whole humiliation feeling that floods over me when I am drooling.
I was then told to make myself cum without moving anything else other than my hand. But you know what its like when you do cum..... well my head moves and that fucking peg was banging against the wall and my tongue, and the drool was everywhere.
He made me remain there for another 10 minutes or so, until there was a big pool of drool which I and then had to lick up. I returned to him on my knees and I had to use my tongue to flick the peg around. the drool was going in all directions, and whilst moving the peg, and drool flicking all over my face and tits, over the floor and well, everywhere, I had to cum again.
Humiliation is one of those feeling that just sends me to that place where I just can't function, I felt full of it, it covered me like the drool; horrid, nasty, dirt, feeling lack of self, dehumanised.
By the time he had finished with me, my head was a mess, I couldn't think straight, could hardly speak,and found it so difficult to get myself ready for bed. It took me three attempts to tie my nighttime rope, I got tangled in the bed covers and almost cried because I couldn't sort them out, I couldn't set my alarm, I was a mess.
He stayed online talking to me, making sure I was ok, telling me what to do, talking to me like you would to a small lost child, which i guess is somewhat how I felt.
And in the night, each time I woke, and it was a lot, he was there, sending me back to sleep, telling me I was ok, that he was there. I felt so cared for.
This morning his silly mood continued, and he wanted to enjoy himself some more
I had a peg on one ear, and then had to get the cane that he sent me here with. and balance it between my nose and upper lip, and recite the alphabet backwards, then count backwards from 100 without it falling off! easy peasy.
Then I had to balance it on the bridge of my nose and repeat the recital.
I thought I was doing fine, until he said "Now stand up and make yourself cum, and don't let it fall off".
Oh dear oh dear.
Standing up was easy, playing with my cunt was manageable...but cumming...off it went.
So I had to put a peg on each nipple and do it again...........
I managed to get to the cumming bit again, and it crashed to the floor!
I was not looking forward to cumming again, its no fun by yourself. But,as usual, he always manages to keep one step ahead of me and offered me a choice................. something nice now and horrid later or something horrid now and something nice later.
Well I am the queen of deferred gratification, so I chose the second option.
He said " go and get straight into the shower"................and I couldn't help it....the word "bastard" just slipped out.......
Was he cross? No he laughed, told me that he had heard me and agreed. I had to stay there in that freezing shower, and I hate it. But I stayed as told to, until he told me to make it warm, and then I didn't want to get out. I am not sure if that was the nice thing or not...but if so ...not much a good deal in my book.....but then I'm not the author
My owner has always said that he knew it would be difficult while I was away, that both of us would find it hard, but with hard work, we would be okay, I would be okay.
And you know what? He is right....very right.
I feel his control, I feel submissive, i know I am his slave, he is still at the forefront of my thoughts when he should be, I feel loved and cared for...and oh boy has he worked hard to make me feel all these things...so
Even for the cold shower Sir.................thank you.
When I spoke to him last night, he allowed me to tie my normal rope and then put it on, it was such a relief, and felt so lovely to have it there, and he didn't once mention why I had a new one.
He then announced that he would be using me for his pleasure, and he had a definite chuckle in his voice.
He told me it was not a punishment, just a gentle reminder, so one peg on my tongue, one on each each ear. one on each cunt lip and one on my stomach. I was then sent to face the wall and make sure the tongue peg was touching the wall.
I waited and waited there. I hate the drool, I really do, I hate the noise it makes when it falls on the floor, I hate the taste it leaves, the dryness in my mouth, the smell of drool is not nice, and I hate the whole humiliation feeling that floods over me when I am drooling.
I was then told to make myself cum without moving anything else other than my hand. But you know what its like when you do cum..... well my head moves and that fucking peg was banging against the wall and my tongue, and the drool was everywhere.
He made me remain there for another 10 minutes or so, until there was a big pool of drool which I and then had to lick up. I returned to him on my knees and I had to use my tongue to flick the peg around. the drool was going in all directions, and whilst moving the peg, and drool flicking all over my face and tits, over the floor and well, everywhere, I had to cum again.
Humiliation is one of those feeling that just sends me to that place where I just can't function, I felt full of it, it covered me like the drool; horrid, nasty, dirt, feeling lack of self, dehumanised.
By the time he had finished with me, my head was a mess, I couldn't think straight, could hardly speak,and found it so difficult to get myself ready for bed. It took me three attempts to tie my nighttime rope, I got tangled in the bed covers and almost cried because I couldn't sort them out, I couldn't set my alarm, I was a mess.
He stayed online talking to me, making sure I was ok, telling me what to do, talking to me like you would to a small lost child, which i guess is somewhat how I felt.
And in the night, each time I woke, and it was a lot, he was there, sending me back to sleep, telling me I was ok, that he was there. I felt so cared for.
This morning his silly mood continued, and he wanted to enjoy himself some more
I had a peg on one ear, and then had to get the cane that he sent me here with. and balance it between my nose and upper lip, and recite the alphabet backwards, then count backwards from 100 without it falling off! easy peasy.
Then I had to balance it on the bridge of my nose and repeat the recital.
I thought I was doing fine, until he said "Now stand up and make yourself cum, and don't let it fall off".
Oh dear oh dear.
Standing up was easy, playing with my cunt was manageable...but cumming...off it went.
So I had to put a peg on each nipple and do it again...........
I managed to get to the cumming bit again, and it crashed to the floor!
I was not looking forward to cumming again, its no fun by yourself. But,as usual, he always manages to keep one step ahead of me and offered me a choice................. something nice now and horrid later or something horrid now and something nice later.
Well I am the queen of deferred gratification, so I chose the second option.
He said " go and get straight into the shower"................and I couldn't help it....the word "bastard" just slipped out.......
Was he cross? No he laughed, told me that he had heard me and agreed. I had to stay there in that freezing shower, and I hate it. But I stayed as told to, until he told me to make it warm, and then I didn't want to get out. I am not sure if that was the nice thing or not...but if so ...not much a good deal in my book.....but then I'm not the author
My owner has always said that he knew it would be difficult while I was away, that both of us would find it hard, but with hard work, we would be okay, I would be okay.
And you know what? He is right....very right.
I feel his control, I feel submissive, i know I am his slave, he is still at the forefront of my thoughts when he should be, I feel loved and cared for...and oh boy has he worked hard to make me feel all these things...so
Even for the cold shower Sir.................thank you.
new rope
Yesterday he sent me to find some rope, I could find some big enough to tie a liner down in a typhoon, or a little piddly one.......so it was the piddly one.
more later
more later
Monday, 24 January 2011
The mind of my Owner....and how to change it.
He is under-impressed with me. I had a lecture this morning about looking after things in general and about looking after things from him in particular.
He said we will discuss it more at a later date, but he has to go away for a few days and does not have time at present.
In the mean time I have a task to complete.
He has, for some time, been considering having me tattooed; just under each nipple with a sign of his ownership. And although I have no choice in the matter, I hate them. It is just something I have always felt, its everyones personal chopice and I'm fine with that, but for me, I just don't like them.
I know if he decided to have them done, then I will have them done and will have to thank him for allowing me to have them,,......but....*sticks out lip and stamps foot* I don't want one, let alone two.
He knows how I feel, he has always known how I feel about them, he doesnt have any, he doent like them, so it alwyas mystifies me why he wants me to have one. I guess becasue he can, and its the whole power, control thing.
Every time I shower I have to write them on and I would rather do that for a million times than have a tattoo.
Anyway, he has given me a task to write a 5000 word essay, giving five good reasons why he should reconsider and to persuade him to change his mind.
So any suggestions would be most gratefully received... I have three days to get it done and it has to be good!
He said we will discuss it more at a later date, but he has to go away for a few days and does not have time at present.
In the mean time I have a task to complete.
He has, for some time, been considering having me tattooed; just under each nipple with a sign of his ownership. And although I have no choice in the matter, I hate them. It is just something I have always felt, its everyones personal chopice and I'm fine with that, but for me, I just don't like them.
I know if he decided to have them done, then I will have them done and will have to thank him for allowing me to have them,,......but....*sticks out lip and stamps foot* I don't want one, let alone two.
He knows how I feel, he has always known how I feel about them, he doesnt have any, he doent like them, so it alwyas mystifies me why he wants me to have one. I guess becasue he can, and its the whole power, control thing.
Every time I shower I have to write them on and I would rather do that for a million times than have a tattoo.
Anyway, he has given me a task to write a 5000 word essay, giving five good reasons why he should reconsider and to persuade him to change his mind.
So any suggestions would be most gratefully received... I have three days to get it done and it has to be good!
Sunday, 23 January 2011
I have just called and told him what I have done.
I was away last night, for some of it, and as usual, I had to take my rope with me...........and I have just had to call him and tell him I left it behind.
He is not happy, he was driving and told me to put a peg on each nipple and stand and wait for him to come online.
I am in trouble.
He is not happy, he was driving and told me to put a peg on each nipple and stand and wait for him to come online.
I am in trouble.
Thank you, thank you, thank you
I know compared to some its just a drop in the ocean, but I just happened to look and there it was 5000!
So to all of you who have stopped by, those who have commented and those who have just looked and gone....I send you a big thank you.
HSxx
So to all of you who have stopped by, those who have commented and those who have just looked and gone....I send you a big thank you.
HSxx
Dreaming of the sound of his footsteps.
She stood on one side of the door, knowing that soon she would hear his footsteps walking along the corridor, then his knock on the door.
She had spent the last few days preparing for her meeting. Her body had been scrubbed, and wrapped in seaweed, pampered, soothed with lotion. Her hair had been trimmed, coloured and styled as he liked. A long body massage had been taken, days before, relaxing her muscles, preparing them for what was to come. Her hands and feet smoothed, rubbed, massaged, polished and nails painted.
She had showered and ensured that there was not one single hair where it shouldn't be, his threat to use tweezers to remedy this always at the forefront of her mind when she was in the shower.
Her shower had been warm and long, the water gentle; caressing her body, flowing over her breasts, down the small of her back, her soapy hands gliding easily over her body. She had carefully dried herself and rubbed in the body lotion.
He loved to stroke her soft skin, especially at the back of her legs, the underside of her breasts and along her inner thighs. He often commented on its softness, he enjoyed feeling it after he had used the cane on it too, or looking at the marks made by the whip and the marks left by the rope, running his finger along the welts, or his tongue tracing slowly along the marks he had made on her body, claiming ownership of her and her body, reminding her she existed for him and him alone.
Her hair was carefully brushed, tied back into a pony tail, the way he liked it. The way it gave him easy access to her neck and a ready handle to maneuver her head towards his cock, to pull her around the room, and he liked to be able to see her neck when she was face down on the floor with his foot resting there.
Her face was clean, free of any make up, her eyes bright and wide with expectation, a small smile on her lips.
Her mind over the last few days had been twisting and turning, a multitude of scenario rushing through her mind, feelings flooding her head; anxiety, fear, excitement, happiness and a million other feelings that have no name.
She was dressed very simply, in a blue halter neck dress, just that, nothing else; no jewelry, no collar, no ropes............ nothing. He had told her he wanted to undress her, to collar her, to claim back what was his, to see her kneel before him, to watch her put her head to the floor at his feet, and to pull her up and listen to her beg to be allowed to suck his cock. He wanted to look down as her, to see her look at him as he pushed his cock deep into her mouth, watch her gag and choke as he held her head, his fingers entwined in her hair.
So she was ready. Her body was ready, her mind was ready.
He was his.
She left the door and she sat on the bed and waited for the sound of his footsteps down the corridor.
She had spent the last few days preparing for her meeting. Her body had been scrubbed, and wrapped in seaweed, pampered, soothed with lotion. Her hair had been trimmed, coloured and styled as he liked. A long body massage had been taken, days before, relaxing her muscles, preparing them for what was to come. Her hands and feet smoothed, rubbed, massaged, polished and nails painted.
She had showered and ensured that there was not one single hair where it shouldn't be, his threat to use tweezers to remedy this always at the forefront of her mind when she was in the shower.
Her shower had been warm and long, the water gentle; caressing her body, flowing over her breasts, down the small of her back, her soapy hands gliding easily over her body. She had carefully dried herself and rubbed in the body lotion.
He loved to stroke her soft skin, especially at the back of her legs, the underside of her breasts and along her inner thighs. He often commented on its softness, he enjoyed feeling it after he had used the cane on it too, or looking at the marks made by the whip and the marks left by the rope, running his finger along the welts, or his tongue tracing slowly along the marks he had made on her body, claiming ownership of her and her body, reminding her she existed for him and him alone.
Her hair was carefully brushed, tied back into a pony tail, the way he liked it. The way it gave him easy access to her neck and a ready handle to maneuver her head towards his cock, to pull her around the room, and he liked to be able to see her neck when she was face down on the floor with his foot resting there.
Her face was clean, free of any make up, her eyes bright and wide with expectation, a small smile on her lips.
Her mind over the last few days had been twisting and turning, a multitude of scenario rushing through her mind, feelings flooding her head; anxiety, fear, excitement, happiness and a million other feelings that have no name.
She was dressed very simply, in a blue halter neck dress, just that, nothing else; no jewelry, no collar, no ropes............ nothing. He had told her he wanted to undress her, to collar her, to claim back what was his, to see her kneel before him, to watch her put her head to the floor at his feet, and to pull her up and listen to her beg to be allowed to suck his cock. He wanted to look down as her, to see her look at him as he pushed his cock deep into her mouth, watch her gag and choke as he held her head, his fingers entwined in her hair.
So she was ready. Her body was ready, her mind was ready.
He was his.
She left the door and she sat on the bed and waited for the sound of his footsteps down the corridor.
Saturday, 22 January 2011
A different sort of mind fuck ...lesson three
Last night we managed to talk for a couple of hours without any interruption, we just chatted, like we do when we are together, nothing specific, nothing exciting or even slightly D/s...nothing at all that if you had overheard the conversation would have led you to believe we were anything more than an boring old couple, other than the fact that I was sitting naked with my rope round my neck and I addressed him as Sir, but other than that nothing.
So this morning when I woke up I expected our talk to carry along more or less in the same vein.
Oh silly silly slave.
I woke early and he sent me back to sleep...........I thought he wasn't being considerate. He woke me by text then told me to go back to sleep, he did this three times and on the fourth time I was expecting the same, but instead of "Go back to sleep slave" it was"Get up slave, go and turn the shower on, get it nice and cold".
Now he knows how much I hate the cold, he knows, he really does, and uses it sometimes as a punishment, or gives me a choice of a cold shower and something he knows I hate more and enjoys when I choose the shower. I sometimes try to choose the other option , and he enjoys watching the struggle on my face as I pot for the shower anyway.
But there I stood in the shower, the cold water running all over me, my nipples tight like little buttons, my muscles beginning to tighten, to shiver, when he told me to turn it off. I was waiting for the usual command of "Dry yourself slave" , but as I stood there, shivering , he made me turn it on again and stand under it again. By the third time I was crying, big sobby tears of cold, frustration and anger. Yes I admit it, I was angry at him for being mean.
After the third long cold shower I stood before him, water dripping from my hair, down my tits, my nipples sore from the cold, my legs shaking, and I stood and waited....and waited until I was dry, just one small trickle of water dripping from my hair, down my back and between my bum cheeks.
"Slave.................lie on the floor............face down"
So I lay face down, face into the floor, my eyes closed, waiting for my owner's next instruction......
I lay as I have been taught, as instructed, face down, hands behind my back, my legs crossed and then in a very quiet voice I heard the word......
"slave"
Once I am in that position; my place, I am not permitted to talk unless given specific instruction, and so I waited for more from him.......
I strained to hear him.......................'slave ..... move your hand to your cunt and if you are wet you may show me your hand".
Oh and yes I was wet, my fingers were soaking when I touched my cunt.
He told me to return my hand to my cunt and not to move it, not to move a muscle...and very quietly he told me how he is going to welcome me home.
How he is going to hold me and stroke my hair, how he longs to kiss me, to look at my face, into my eyes, he he wants to put me over his lap and spank me till I beg him to stop, how he has already chosen the belt he will use on my arse, how his favourite crop is in his car ready,how he will place his hand over my mouth and pinch my nose and watch me wait until he give me my breath back, how he will slip his hand round my neck and squeeze when he allows me to cum, how he will pull me to him by my nipple bars and torture my nipples while he fills my throat with his cock, how he will use the crop while I suck him till he shoots down my throat.................
And without warning, I came.......................big shuddering, deep inside me, whole body orgasm.....that left me shaken and crying.
"Oh slave...........and you didn't even move against your hand"
And I hadn't,, I really hadn't, it was a complete mind fuck...........................
But following the theme of the day............I then had to crawl to get the toy he gave me to go away with and cum again, and then again., till I lay in a sweaty heap on the floor, legs open, cunt pulled wide so he could see, could inspect me
"You see slave...its all about control...it's all in the mind.
I wanted to say "no Sir , its all in my cunt" but I smiled and said "yes Sir"...because as usual he is right.
Lesson in threes.
So this morning when I woke up I expected our talk to carry along more or less in the same vein.
Oh silly silly slave.
I woke early and he sent me back to sleep...........I thought he wasn't being considerate. He woke me by text then told me to go back to sleep, he did this three times and on the fourth time I was expecting the same, but instead of "Go back to sleep slave" it was"Get up slave, go and turn the shower on, get it nice and cold".
Now he knows how much I hate the cold, he knows, he really does, and uses it sometimes as a punishment, or gives me a choice of a cold shower and something he knows I hate more and enjoys when I choose the shower. I sometimes try to choose the other option , and he enjoys watching the struggle on my face as I pot for the shower anyway.
But there I stood in the shower, the cold water running all over me, my nipples tight like little buttons, my muscles beginning to tighten, to shiver, when he told me to turn it off. I was waiting for the usual command of "Dry yourself slave" , but as I stood there, shivering , he made me turn it on again and stand under it again. By the third time I was crying, big sobby tears of cold, frustration and anger. Yes I admit it, I was angry at him for being mean.
After the third long cold shower I stood before him, water dripping from my hair, down my tits, my nipples sore from the cold, my legs shaking, and I stood and waited....and waited until I was dry, just one small trickle of water dripping from my hair, down my back and between my bum cheeks.
"Slave.................lie on the floor............face down"
So I lay face down, face into the floor, my eyes closed, waiting for my owner's next instruction......
I lay as I have been taught, as instructed, face down, hands behind my back, my legs crossed and then in a very quiet voice I heard the word......
"slave"
Once I am in that position; my place, I am not permitted to talk unless given specific instruction, and so I waited for more from him.......
I strained to hear him.......................'slave ..... move your hand to your cunt and if you are wet you may show me your hand".
Oh and yes I was wet, my fingers were soaking when I touched my cunt.
He told me to return my hand to my cunt and not to move it, not to move a muscle...and very quietly he told me how he is going to welcome me home.
How he is going to hold me and stroke my hair, how he longs to kiss me, to look at my face, into my eyes, he he wants to put me over his lap and spank me till I beg him to stop, how he has already chosen the belt he will use on my arse, how his favourite crop is in his car ready,how he will place his hand over my mouth and pinch my nose and watch me wait until he give me my breath back, how he will slip his hand round my neck and squeeze when he allows me to cum, how he will pull me to him by my nipple bars and torture my nipples while he fills my throat with his cock, how he will use the crop while I suck him till he shoots down my throat.................
And without warning, I came.......................big shuddering, deep inside me, whole body orgasm.....that left me shaken and crying.
"Oh slave...........and you didn't even move against your hand"
And I hadn't,, I really hadn't, it was a complete mind fuck...........................
But following the theme of the day............I then had to crawl to get the toy he gave me to go away with and cum again, and then again., till I lay in a sweaty heap on the floor, legs open, cunt pulled wide so he could see, could inspect me
"You see slave...its all about control...it's all in the mind.
I wanted to say "no Sir , its all in my cunt" but I smiled and said "yes Sir"...because as usual he is right.
Lesson in threes.
Friday, 21 January 2011
Mind fuck
Oh he is so funny, he thinks so anyway....he is messing with my mind...........this latest evil plot?
He has made me send a very detailed itinerary of my visit, including times of breaks, meals,, locations etc for my training course..............and he has found the restaurant we will be eating in on the day before I can meet him, and he has booked a table..................so he is going to be sitting across the room from me, and I will of course be knicker less and he is going to send me something to my room. A something that I must wear during the meal.
He wont tell me what it is, only that at sometime during the meal he will text me and I will have to meet him outside for him to check I have followed his instructions.
Like I'm going to disobey!
His actual words were "I will text you and ask you to slip out of the room for five minutes so I can check you are being obedient"
Slip?
Slip?
You are not kidding Sir!
He has made me send a very detailed itinerary of my visit, including times of breaks, meals,, locations etc for my training course..............and he has found the restaurant we will be eating in on the day before I can meet him, and he has booked a table..................so he is going to be sitting across the room from me, and I will of course be knicker less and he is going to send me something to my room. A something that I must wear during the meal.
He wont tell me what it is, only that at sometime during the meal he will text me and I will have to meet him outside for him to check I have followed his instructions.
Like I'm going to disobey!
His actual words were "I will text you and ask you to slip out of the room for five minutes so I can check you are being obedient"
Slip?
Slip?
You are not kidding Sir!
Thursday, 20 January 2011
Perfect Day
I was stuck somewhere today, unable to get away and so I started thinking, not about anything in particular, just thinking . And I got to thinking about a perfect day.......what have been my perfect days? Which day in my life has been the most perfect? Why did I then develop this train of thought where I had to choose just one, when I have been so fortunate to have so many more than one.
Like a lot of people it doesn't take much to make me happy, it really doesn't. I don't need a great deal, I have no need for "things" to make me happy, no great desire for lots of money (although if anyone is throwing some away, I would take it off their hands), although I like the choices that spare money gives me.
The days in my life that have been perfect................?
The birth of my two beautiful children....they were both perfect days: hard work, emotional, one filled with pain, the other with uncertainty, but at the end of both I was lucky enough to hold a beautiful child in my arms and gaze at their scrumpled faces and feel overwhelming, all consuming love.
The bith of my grandchild...............watching my daughter in pain was not perfect, watching her fall peacefully,happily into an exhausted sleep just after she handed me her newly born child, and the first hour of the baby's life I spent holding her in my arms, watching the sunrise and talking to her, as she gazed unfocused at my face, listening to my voice, was the most perfect start to a perfect day.
A day spent, as a teenager, all day in the snow, sledging, snowballing and drinking hot chocolate, followed by an all night party, welcoming the New Year in with a bottle of champagne cooled in the snow...perfect.
A day spent on a sand bar in the middle of the Indian Ocean, swimming naked, floating around in crystal clear warm water ...the only sights.......the sun, the sea and the sand. The only sounds; very gentle waves lapping on the edge of the sandbar and the splash of dolphins leaping around less that 20m away. Swimming lazily to the edge of the reef and sinking slowly below the surface and looking in complete and utter awe at the teeming shoals of fish under my feet, and seeing a manta slowly "flying" through the water towards me................perfect.
A day spent with best friends, walking through a field of poppies, chasing the dog, lying beneath a cornflower blue sky, filled with singing skylarks, eating "doorstep" ham sandwiches, crunchy pink apples, strawberries warmed by the sun and drinking cold beer, lots of cold beer. Walking home hand in hand with tired, dusty children, red stained clothes and sun warmed skin......perfect.
The day I qualified...................I was so proud, that despite obstacles in my way, an indirect route ......I was there.
The day I was permitted to beg my owner to be allowed to serve him.............the day I was allowed to become his slave, to be owned, to give up all my rights, to submit completely to him.......... to be his..there is only one word.......perfect.
And what set me thinking about this list, which is not, by any means, the sum total of my perfect days?
Today is a perfect day...................today I was given my ticket home..................its not for long..............and its not "hone" home, but it is to the right hemisphere, to the right continent , even the right country...I have a ticket ...........I AM going home, and it is soon.......oh the very best of perfect days.
Like a lot of people it doesn't take much to make me happy, it really doesn't. I don't need a great deal, I have no need for "things" to make me happy, no great desire for lots of money (although if anyone is throwing some away, I would take it off their hands), although I like the choices that spare money gives me.
The days in my life that have been perfect................?
The birth of my two beautiful children....they were both perfect days: hard work, emotional, one filled with pain, the other with uncertainty, but at the end of both I was lucky enough to hold a beautiful child in my arms and gaze at their scrumpled faces and feel overwhelming, all consuming love.
The bith of my grandchild...............watching my daughter in pain was not perfect, watching her fall peacefully,happily into an exhausted sleep just after she handed me her newly born child, and the first hour of the baby's life I spent holding her in my arms, watching the sunrise and talking to her, as she gazed unfocused at my face, listening to my voice, was the most perfect start to a perfect day.
A day spent, as a teenager, all day in the snow, sledging, snowballing and drinking hot chocolate, followed by an all night party, welcoming the New Year in with a bottle of champagne cooled in the snow...perfect.
A day spent on a sand bar in the middle of the Indian Ocean, swimming naked, floating around in crystal clear warm water ...the only sights.......the sun, the sea and the sand. The only sounds; very gentle waves lapping on the edge of the sandbar and the splash of dolphins leaping around less that 20m away. Swimming lazily to the edge of the reef and sinking slowly below the surface and looking in complete and utter awe at the teeming shoals of fish under my feet, and seeing a manta slowly "flying" through the water towards me................perfect.
A day spent with best friends, walking through a field of poppies, chasing the dog, lying beneath a cornflower blue sky, filled with singing skylarks, eating "doorstep" ham sandwiches, crunchy pink apples, strawberries warmed by the sun and drinking cold beer, lots of cold beer. Walking home hand in hand with tired, dusty children, red stained clothes and sun warmed skin......perfect.
The day I qualified...................I was so proud, that despite obstacles in my way, an indirect route ......I was there.
The day I was permitted to beg my owner to be allowed to serve him.............the day I was allowed to become his slave, to be owned, to give up all my rights, to submit completely to him.......... to be his..there is only one word.......perfect.
And what set me thinking about this list, which is not, by any means, the sum total of my perfect days?
Today is a perfect day...................today I was given my ticket home..................its not for long..............and its not "hone" home, but it is to the right hemisphere, to the right continent , even the right country...I have a ticket ...........I AM going home, and it is soon.......oh the very best of perfect days.
Wednesday, 19 January 2011
Shut your holes and open your ears...lesson two
A while, well a few days ago, he asked me to bring him a few DVDs when I come home. Yesterday morning he asked me what they were.
Well, I have a busy life, lots to think about, things to remember and I forgot the name of one of them. For the life of me, I just could not remember.
I could remember one, but not the other. I will confess now , there were only two. He was very unimpressed at me, I only had two things to remember and I couldn't.
I was squirming a bit and begging for clues, and he refused. I begged a bit more, pleaded...no nothing.
He then told me that I was to text him as soon as I remebered and the longer it took me the greater my punishment would be.
I moaned about it not being fair, about how mean he was, about how he wouldnt give me any clues. Although he was serious, he was laughing at my discomfort and put up with me telling him he is mean (I think he quite likes it).
He then told me he had given me three clues, and I was being "thick" for not realising that he had. He told me that I hadn't been listening properly....yet again. I reminded him that I have yet to solve one cryptic crossword clue...ever, to which he laughed and agreed...but nonetheless...he had given me clues.
He also reminded me that I had been told to write them down (although I couldn't remember that bit, but I wasn't going to argue...after all...he is ALWAYS right) and I was not paying attention. He then told me to go away and the longer I took the more I would be punished.
Well........................ it took me nine hours to remember. A hard nine hour duty, wracking my brains, running through and discarding films in a mental list, knowing that each one I suggested to myself was not right anyway. I knew when I saw the DVD that I would remember, and as soon as I did, at that very instant, I did, and I could have kicked myself. I sent him a text....to which he replied..."9 hours three minutes".
Oh dear oh dear.
That's a lot of hours to keep him waiting.
When I spoke to him yesterday evening I was dreading it. Sometimes he can be very forgiving, but not listening, not giving him my full attention, not remembering that he is the most important thing in my life drives him crazy. I had to get a peg and peg my cunt closed and then three pegs and peg my mouth closed and THEN two pegs, one for each ear.
He then asked me to choose my own punishment. He told me if I chose it it would be less severe than if he chose it and he started counting back from 10. So I agreed that I would choose it. and then I had to come up with it.
I know that other slaves have had to choose their own punishemnt and how difficult it is, how they consider what is appropriate, and fitting and what their owner will think........ but I had ten seconds...so I, without much thought, blurted "Write some lines to remind me?"
"Is that it?" was his reply..........................well,,,,....ten seconds....seemed pretty apppropriate to me! So I stayed quiet.
So that's what it was ...except it was ..................sit there for an hour with the pegs on thinking about what you should have done, how you don't pay close enough attention, how you sometimes disregard what I tell you and then write these lines, (I must listen carefully to what I am told and do as Sir tells me) and then call me.
So I sat there for an hour, those pegs shutting my holes and my ears pegged back..with nothing to do or think about expect what I should have done.....................a lesson without a doubt.
Then I called when I had finished my lines and showed them to him.
I will never forget the name of that film....ever.
Well, I have a busy life, lots to think about, things to remember and I forgot the name of one of them. For the life of me, I just could not remember.
I could remember one, but not the other. I will confess now , there were only two. He was very unimpressed at me, I only had two things to remember and I couldn't.
I was squirming a bit and begging for clues, and he refused. I begged a bit more, pleaded...no nothing.
He then told me that I was to text him as soon as I remebered and the longer it took me the greater my punishment would be.
I moaned about it not being fair, about how mean he was, about how he wouldnt give me any clues. Although he was serious, he was laughing at my discomfort and put up with me telling him he is mean (I think he quite likes it).
He then told me he had given me three clues, and I was being "thick" for not realising that he had. He told me that I hadn't been listening properly....yet again. I reminded him that I have yet to solve one cryptic crossword clue...ever, to which he laughed and agreed...but nonetheless...he had given me clues.
He also reminded me that I had been told to write them down (although I couldn't remember that bit, but I wasn't going to argue...after all...he is ALWAYS right) and I was not paying attention. He then told me to go away and the longer I took the more I would be punished.
Well........................ it took me nine hours to remember. A hard nine hour duty, wracking my brains, running through and discarding films in a mental list, knowing that each one I suggested to myself was not right anyway. I knew when I saw the DVD that I would remember, and as soon as I did, at that very instant, I did, and I could have kicked myself. I sent him a text....to which he replied..."9 hours three minutes".
Oh dear oh dear.
That's a lot of hours to keep him waiting.
When I spoke to him yesterday evening I was dreading it. Sometimes he can be very forgiving, but not listening, not giving him my full attention, not remembering that he is the most important thing in my life drives him crazy. I had to get a peg and peg my cunt closed and then three pegs and peg my mouth closed and THEN two pegs, one for each ear.
He then asked me to choose my own punishment. He told me if I chose it it would be less severe than if he chose it and he started counting back from 10. So I agreed that I would choose it. and then I had to come up with it.
I know that other slaves have had to choose their own punishemnt and how difficult it is, how they consider what is appropriate, and fitting and what their owner will think........ but I had ten seconds...so I, without much thought, blurted "Write some lines to remind me?"
"Is that it?" was his reply..........................well,,,,....ten seconds....seemed pretty apppropriate to me! So I stayed quiet.
So that's what it was ...except it was ..................sit there for an hour with the pegs on thinking about what you should have done, how you don't pay close enough attention, how you sometimes disregard what I tell you and then write these lines, (I must listen carefully to what I am told and do as Sir tells me) and then call me.
So I sat there for an hour, those pegs shutting my holes and my ears pegged back..with nothing to do or think about expect what I should have done.....................a lesson without a doubt.
Then I called when I had finished my lines and showed them to him.
I will never forget the name of that film....ever.
Tuesday, 18 January 2011
Are you ready slave?
He called at 2 am, I was fast asleep, I mean really fast asleep, that whole drooling, can't move a muscle, snoring, type of fast asleep. And I know it rang for a while and when I answered it I hadn't looked at the caller and so answered with a very sleepy "What?".
That is not a good answer to give to your owner.
"You said you were ready"
Oops............... I shot out of that bed so fast and onto my knees I think I broke the land speed record, as well as several flying records.
So at 2.10 am I was kneeling in front of him........ready.
He had me put ten of the killer pegs on each tit, the ones with the nipple shape thing that are built to withstand tropical storms and two on my cunt. Then the hood went on and I had to get the cane and run it over my body and think of what and who I am, and that when I used the cane I was to use it like he would,
It was just getting to the point where I was getting restless when he told me to hit the pegs off with the cane.
This is never easy at the best of times, but in the middle of the night with a hood on, trying to get pegs off when they have the grip of a limpet.............he was joking?
Nope.
By the time I had seven of them off I was sobbing; my tits hurt, my nipples were swollen, red, filled with pain, my tits criss cross with marks from the cane, and my head filled with mush.
He told me to stop and to cane myself across my stomach, at the same time as making myself cum.
The difficulty of making myself cum with the pain from the pegs, the pain from the cane, and actually canning myself filled me with frustration, and so tears of frustration mixed with tears of pain. I was instructed to stop the caning, and as I begged to be allowed to cum he said no.
No?
After all that..................... no?
I stood there........................ my whole body shaking with frustration, pain and unsatisfied lust, the hood over my head, 3 nipples still on my tits, 2 on my cunt.
When I was a little more composed I was asked if I was ready.
"Yes Sir"
"Make yourself cum and as you cum you are to pull the pegs off your tits and cunt"
Talk about mind control, I wanted to cum, needed to cum, but knew that once I got to that point, and begged to be allowed, I would have to pull the pegs off, knowing it would be so painful.
I started slowing, gently rubbing my slit, covering my fingers in my wetness, avoiding the pegs that pulled painfully on my outer lips. I was building it slowly, trying to get my head round the pain and was told to get a move on, and I was to cum by the count of 10.
1,2,3...............I could feel it coming.........the heat rising in my cunt, my juices flowing over my fingers,
4,5,.trying to make myself hold the pegs on my tits, feeling my fingers curl round them
6.............building, finger insistent
7......please let me cum.I don't want to, but want to please him..oh please
8..............ohhhhhhhhhhhh
9..............pull.
Bastard.
The pain from pulling the pegs off took my breath away, left me shaking, desperate for him, to feel his touch, legs shaking, knees buckling, sobbing sweating and calling his name. needing him, wanting to feel his hand on me, squeezing my neck, stroking me,slapping me, caressing me.......at that moment I wanted it all.
And he called me, gently, telling me to remove the hood, to get my blanket, to sit down, to breathe, to calm down. I heard his voice but not he words.
When I was a bit calmer he sent me for a shower, a hot shower, soothing and gentle.
I was allowed my towel, and then told to rub cream onto the worst whelts, to wrap my blanket round, put on my night time rope and lie down.
"Ready slave?"
I went to get out of bed............."Good girl............. go to sleep, I am pleased with your progress, lesson one."
And I think before I had pulled the cover up I was asleep.
I didn't move in the night and woke where I had lain.....................
I looked at my computer...................................
r
e
a
d
y
?
That is not a good answer to give to your owner.
"You said you were ready"
Oops............... I shot out of that bed so fast and onto my knees I think I broke the land speed record, as well as several flying records.
So at 2.10 am I was kneeling in front of him........ready.
He had me put ten of the killer pegs on each tit, the ones with the nipple shape thing that are built to withstand tropical storms and two on my cunt. Then the hood went on and I had to get the cane and run it over my body and think of what and who I am, and that when I used the cane I was to use it like he would,
It was just getting to the point where I was getting restless when he told me to hit the pegs off with the cane.
This is never easy at the best of times, but in the middle of the night with a hood on, trying to get pegs off when they have the grip of a limpet.............he was joking?
Nope.
By the time I had seven of them off I was sobbing; my tits hurt, my nipples were swollen, red, filled with pain, my tits criss cross with marks from the cane, and my head filled with mush.
He told me to stop and to cane myself across my stomach, at the same time as making myself cum.
The difficulty of making myself cum with the pain from the pegs, the pain from the cane, and actually canning myself filled me with frustration, and so tears of frustration mixed with tears of pain. I was instructed to stop the caning, and as I begged to be allowed to cum he said no.
No?
After all that..................... no?
I stood there........................ my whole body shaking with frustration, pain and unsatisfied lust, the hood over my head, 3 nipples still on my tits, 2 on my cunt.
When I was a little more composed I was asked if I was ready.
"Yes Sir"
"Make yourself cum and as you cum you are to pull the pegs off your tits and cunt"
Talk about mind control, I wanted to cum, needed to cum, but knew that once I got to that point, and begged to be allowed, I would have to pull the pegs off, knowing it would be so painful.
I started slowing, gently rubbing my slit, covering my fingers in my wetness, avoiding the pegs that pulled painfully on my outer lips. I was building it slowly, trying to get my head round the pain and was told to get a move on, and I was to cum by the count of 10.
1,2,3...............I could feel it coming.........the heat rising in my cunt, my juices flowing over my fingers,
4,5,.trying to make myself hold the pegs on my tits, feeling my fingers curl round them
6.............building, finger insistent
7......please let me cum.I don't want to, but want to please him..oh please
8..............ohhhhhhhhhhhh
9..............pull.
Bastard.
The pain from pulling the pegs off took my breath away, left me shaking, desperate for him, to feel his touch, legs shaking, knees buckling, sobbing sweating and calling his name. needing him, wanting to feel his hand on me, squeezing my neck, stroking me,slapping me, caressing me.......at that moment I wanted it all.
And he called me, gently, telling me to remove the hood, to get my blanket, to sit down, to breathe, to calm down. I heard his voice but not he words.
When I was a bit calmer he sent me for a shower, a hot shower, soothing and gentle.
I was allowed my towel, and then told to rub cream onto the worst whelts, to wrap my blanket round, put on my night time rope and lie down.
"Ready slave?"
I went to get out of bed............."Good girl............. go to sleep, I am pleased with your progress, lesson one."
And I think before I had pulled the cover up I was asleep.
I didn't move in the night and woke where I had lain.....................
I looked at my computer...................................
r
e
a
d
y
?
Bastard
I got a call at 9pm and my heart skipped a beat or six.
"Ready slave?"
Well what do you answer to that one?
I wanted to ask him what exactly I was supposed to be ready for...but I didn't
I wanted to tell him he was a shit for messing with my mind.
Did I?
No I didnt.
I just said "Yes Sir"
To which he replied..."Good" and said goodbye and hung up!
Bastard!
"Ready slave?"
Well what do you answer to that one?
I wanted to ask him what exactly I was supposed to be ready for...but I didn't
I wanted to tell him he was a shit for messing with my mind.
Did I?
No I didnt.
I just said "Yes Sir"
To which he replied..."Good" and said goodbye and hung up!
Bastard!
Monday, 17 January 2011
A waiting slave
At 9am I got a text that had one word............................
'slave"
I waited for the rest of the text, thinking he had mis-sent it. I waited and waited and waited and there was nothing.
At 12 o'clock I got another text but couldn't read it. I could hear it going off, but couldn't access my phone for about one hour...well seventy six minutes to be exact...actually seventy six very long minutes...and when I finally got to it ..............................it was one word......................
"slave"
And now six hours later I have received another one...................
'Ready?"
And do I know what I am to be ready for....no I don't...am I twisting myself in circles trying to work it out..................no, I'm not.............that has been a long hard and often painful lesson, but one I have learnt......
And now I wait to find out....but as to how long I wait....................I will see.
'slave"
I waited for the rest of the text, thinking he had mis-sent it. I waited and waited and waited and there was nothing.
At 12 o'clock I got another text but couldn't read it. I could hear it going off, but couldn't access my phone for about one hour...well seventy six minutes to be exact...actually seventy six very long minutes...and when I finally got to it ..............................it was one word......................
"slave"
And now six hours later I have received another one...................
'Ready?"
And do I know what I am to be ready for....no I don't...am I twisting myself in circles trying to work it out..................no, I'm not.............that has been a long hard and often painful lesson, but one I have learnt......
And now I wait to find out....but as to how long I wait....................I will see.
Sunday, 16 January 2011
Retraining in readiness.
Today was one of those days when I would have liked to curl up on the sofa with a big cup of tea, a magazine, a good DVD and my dog. Its rainy and cold, the sky is gray and everything feels damp.
The rain has been falling for about 24 hours now, some of it big slow splotchy rain that feels warm when you have to walk in it, some of the rain is like a fine mist, hanging over the jungle in low clouds and soaking everything, the rest is just rain; endless endless rain.
There was no DVD, no magazine and sadly no dog, instead there was my usual rituals for my owner first things this morning, a quick call to him, but the "satellite bounce" made it difficult to hear him. and then a couple of hours in the gym, where outside the windows I could see a family of monkeys sheltering under leaves.
Through the noise on the phone, I did hear that he plans to use me and to prepare everything; to take ice cubes and my bowl with me to bed..................he knows that it has been difficult for me and has decided to make sure that by the time I meet him. He knows me so well, has turned me into the slave he wants. He knows the affect of humiliation has on me, and uses it to his best advantage and this is where I guess he will start my retraining. we will be working on my mindset, to correct it, to how it should be, that I am ready to submit to him fully again, to follow his instructions and orders without question or delay, to hand over all my trust back to him, and to let him take over my life again.
I am excited, nervous and know the nest few weeks will be difficult , but I know it is necessary.
The rain has been falling for about 24 hours now, some of it big slow splotchy rain that feels warm when you have to walk in it, some of the rain is like a fine mist, hanging over the jungle in low clouds and soaking everything, the rest is just rain; endless endless rain.
There was no DVD, no magazine and sadly no dog, instead there was my usual rituals for my owner first things this morning, a quick call to him, but the "satellite bounce" made it difficult to hear him. and then a couple of hours in the gym, where outside the windows I could see a family of monkeys sheltering under leaves.
Through the noise on the phone, I did hear that he plans to use me and to prepare everything; to take ice cubes and my bowl with me to bed..................he knows that it has been difficult for me and has decided to make sure that by the time I meet him. He knows me so well, has turned me into the slave he wants. He knows the affect of humiliation has on me, and uses it to his best advantage and this is where I guess he will start my retraining. we will be working on my mindset, to correct it, to how it should be, that I am ready to submit to him fully again, to follow his instructions and orders without question or delay, to hand over all my trust back to him, and to let him take over my life again.
I am excited, nervous and know the nest few weeks will be difficult , but I know it is necessary.
Saturday, 15 January 2011
Just ish...that all it is
For the first time I am stuck for something to say................
Everything is "ish".
One of those days I guess...time to break out the Jelly Tots.
Everything is "ish".
One of those days I guess...time to break out the Jelly Tots.
Friday, 14 January 2011
Pain is a life experience
Last night I couldn't sleep, I had been used again, but that wasnt the reason,he didnt want me to wear my rope, and I don't think that was the reason, I was still coughing, and I feel like I am short of breath and unabale to completly fill my lungs with each breath, but I dont even think that was the reason.
I was thinking when I couldnt seleep. I was thinking about pain.
I know that there are people that enjoy pain, and sometimes I think maybe I do, but mostly I think maybe I dont. For me it is seldom the pain that he inflicts on me, or makes me inflict on myself, its not the pain....its the control, the lack of choice, the non existence of any power, the feeling of helplessness, the submission to his will and desires, that does it for me.
If he gives me a chocie of activities, I very rarley choose a painful one, although it is hard when I know it is what he wants and enjoys, although he enjoys the control too.
What I was thinking about was the differnt types of pain and how I deal with them.
I have gone through, like most people of my age, a wide variety of different life experience, some of them happy and some of them sad, some of them have filled me with undeniable pain. Some I have recovered from quickly and others have taken time, but the pain does go, but what it leaves behind is different each time.
I have experienced the pain of miscarriaige, which lodged deep inside me, pain of such loss, loss of potential, of what could have been, of a future..... but I learnt to deal with it by realising that not everything is mean to be, howver much it hurts, its just not.
I have dealt with the pain of long labours and of child birth, that sort of pain, that stops the moment your arms are filled with a baby, and you are filled with the exact opposite of pain.
I have watched my children grow and learn ; and held them as they have felt the pain of disapointment, envy, jealousy, heartbreak, loneliness, injustice and watched my daughter give birth. And all of that is a pain, each and every one, big, small, seemingly insignificant and life changing that I would have, in a heartbeat, have taken away from them if I could,...........but.........it is making them into the people they are becoming.
I have endured the pain of a destructive relationship, where it became so unbearable that in the end I no longer cared, about myself, about a future.........about anything........until I felt nothing at all.........and as for the light at the end of the tunnel...I didn't even care if was there or not. Then there was the productive pain of a long slow recovery of my physical and menatl health where each day was painful,emotional pain, that made me strong becasue I knew I would be okay in the end. And not only did I have my hand wrapped around the cord that turned the light I, I wasn't letting go, and it was staying on; , full, bright and filling me with a sense of hope, sending any remaining residual pain, into the shadows where I could look at it, remember it, and keep it where it should be...far away.
I have been humbled by the pain of loosing three friend in one year, of watching them slowly and inexorablly travel towards their end. Three of my best friends, people I love, and I watched in awe as they coped with their bodily pain, their sense of their own mortality and how they supported us, those who love, to deal with our pain at the thought that they would no longer be with us...and I was truely blessed to have them as friends, and my pain was nothing compared to theirs. But my heart is no longer filled with pain when I think about them , but joy and happinesss at the memories I have, memories I keep in my heart .
And the other pain I have is the pain that he inflicts on my, by my choice. I have given him the right to do it, and now I have no choice about the type of pain I receive, when or where. Sometimes it is such mental pain, where the pain I feel when I have disapointed him, which could be argued to be self inflcited, makes me want to curl up, withdraw into myself and hide in shame. The pain of having to talk about what I have done wrong, or failed to do, how my behaviour has had a negative impact on him and his happiness is like a knife in my heart. But hopefully it teaches me to be a better slave, to serve him better an be as he desire and demands I am , and so for that I am grateful for the pain
The physcial pain, the one that fills my head, with something like white noise, the pain of clamps on nipples, when sometimes I want to crawl across the floor to try and escape it, to bang my head against the wall, to give me something else to focus on, but where invariablly I am left standing, with instrcutions not to move, or keeling, or on all fours, the pull of clamps, of weights exaserbating the pain.
The pain of being beaten, with hand and fist, slapped, canned, whipped and flogged, hair pulled, pinched, twisted and squeezed.
It is this pain that so confuses me, that leaves me breathelss, that leaves me in a state of euphoria, unable to focus on anything other than him, than the words he says, until he too fades into the distance and all that is left is nothing...........................just a sense of peace and calm and quiet, and although everypart of my body may be hurting I feel nothing.
And as I return to him and hear words such as "Good girl," and "I am proud of you" and "You have pleased me", whatever pain I have felt, ........................ hear those words and to know it is me that has made him feel like that, is worth it.And I deal with it because I know it has given him pleasure or he has used it to make me learn, to be a slave, his slave and at the end of the day.
That is all I want...to be his.
I was thinking when I couldnt seleep. I was thinking about pain.
I know that there are people that enjoy pain, and sometimes I think maybe I do, but mostly I think maybe I dont. For me it is seldom the pain that he inflicts on me, or makes me inflict on myself, its not the pain....its the control, the lack of choice, the non existence of any power, the feeling of helplessness, the submission to his will and desires, that does it for me.
If he gives me a chocie of activities, I very rarley choose a painful one, although it is hard when I know it is what he wants and enjoys, although he enjoys the control too.
What I was thinking about was the differnt types of pain and how I deal with them.
I have gone through, like most people of my age, a wide variety of different life experience, some of them happy and some of them sad, some of them have filled me with undeniable pain. Some I have recovered from quickly and others have taken time, but the pain does go, but what it leaves behind is different each time.
I have experienced the pain of miscarriaige, which lodged deep inside me, pain of such loss, loss of potential, of what could have been, of a future..... but I learnt to deal with it by realising that not everything is mean to be, howver much it hurts, its just not.
I have dealt with the pain of long labours and of child birth, that sort of pain, that stops the moment your arms are filled with a baby, and you are filled with the exact opposite of pain.
I have watched my children grow and learn ; and held them as they have felt the pain of disapointment, envy, jealousy, heartbreak, loneliness, injustice and watched my daughter give birth. And all of that is a pain, each and every one, big, small, seemingly insignificant and life changing that I would have, in a heartbeat, have taken away from them if I could,...........but.........it is making them into the people they are becoming.
I have endured the pain of a destructive relationship, where it became so unbearable that in the end I no longer cared, about myself, about a future.........about anything........until I felt nothing at all.........and as for the light at the end of the tunnel...I didn't even care if was there or not. Then there was the productive pain of a long slow recovery of my physical and menatl health where each day was painful,emotional pain, that made me strong becasue I knew I would be okay in the end. And not only did I have my hand wrapped around the cord that turned the light I, I wasn't letting go, and it was staying on; , full, bright and filling me with a sense of hope, sending any remaining residual pain, into the shadows where I could look at it, remember it, and keep it where it should be...far away.
I have been humbled by the pain of loosing three friend in one year, of watching them slowly and inexorablly travel towards their end. Three of my best friends, people I love, and I watched in awe as they coped with their bodily pain, their sense of their own mortality and how they supported us, those who love, to deal with our pain at the thought that they would no longer be with us...and I was truely blessed to have them as friends, and my pain was nothing compared to theirs. But my heart is no longer filled with pain when I think about them , but joy and happinesss at the memories I have, memories I keep in my heart .
And the other pain I have is the pain that he inflicts on my, by my choice. I have given him the right to do it, and now I have no choice about the type of pain I receive, when or where. Sometimes it is such mental pain, where the pain I feel when I have disapointed him, which could be argued to be self inflcited, makes me want to curl up, withdraw into myself and hide in shame. The pain of having to talk about what I have done wrong, or failed to do, how my behaviour has had a negative impact on him and his happiness is like a knife in my heart. But hopefully it teaches me to be a better slave, to serve him better an be as he desire and demands I am , and so for that I am grateful for the pain
The physcial pain, the one that fills my head, with something like white noise, the pain of clamps on nipples, when sometimes I want to crawl across the floor to try and escape it, to bang my head against the wall, to give me something else to focus on, but where invariablly I am left standing, with instrcutions not to move, or keeling, or on all fours, the pull of clamps, of weights exaserbating the pain.
The pain of being beaten, with hand and fist, slapped, canned, whipped and flogged, hair pulled, pinched, twisted and squeezed.
It is this pain that so confuses me, that leaves me breathelss, that leaves me in a state of euphoria, unable to focus on anything other than him, than the words he says, until he too fades into the distance and all that is left is nothing...........................just a sense of peace and calm and quiet, and although everypart of my body may be hurting I feel nothing.
And as I return to him and hear words such as "Good girl," and "I am proud of you" and "You have pleased me", whatever pain I have felt, ........................ hear those words and to know it is me that has made him feel like that, is worth it.And I deal with it because I know it has given him pleasure or he has used it to make me learn, to be a slave, his slave and at the end of the day.
That is all I want...to be his.
Thursday, 13 January 2011
Ways to tell your owner is feeling better
He is feeling better,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,how can I tell?
It could be the rope marks left on my tits from the tightest binding I have ever had to do, till they turned blueish and then purpleish, till they felt like that were going to split like a ripe plum, the skin tight and straining.
It could be the deep pain in my nipples from wearing the clothes pegs under my clothes. The bra pressing the pegs onto me, twisting and shifting them with even the smallest movement, making it hard for me to get my head round the pain till I am whimpering and gasping with each breath.
It could be the marks left on my tits from the killer pegs that I had to put on my bound tits. The pegs he chose that have a grip like a nipple fitting into a hole, that impress the flesh like a waffle iron and hurt like hell when you take them off, so your eyes smart, the breath catches in the back of your throat and you can't decide if it hurts more to keep them on or take them off.
It could be the messing with my head, while he left me blindfold and bound in the corner, telling me I was a slut, a toy, a thing to be used.
It could be how he made me kneel before him and bring me to that second of wild abandon before I come, that moment of almost madness, where he stopped me and left me standing begging to be allowed to cum and being denied.
These are some of the clues that made me think he might be feeling a tad better..............I'm not looking forward to when he us 100%....actually maybe I am.:)
It could be the rope marks left on my tits from the tightest binding I have ever had to do, till they turned blueish and then purpleish, till they felt like that were going to split like a ripe plum, the skin tight and straining.
It could be the deep pain in my nipples from wearing the clothes pegs under my clothes. The bra pressing the pegs onto me, twisting and shifting them with even the smallest movement, making it hard for me to get my head round the pain till I am whimpering and gasping with each breath.
It could be the marks left on my tits from the killer pegs that I had to put on my bound tits. The pegs he chose that have a grip like a nipple fitting into a hole, that impress the flesh like a waffle iron and hurt like hell when you take them off, so your eyes smart, the breath catches in the back of your throat and you can't decide if it hurts more to keep them on or take them off.
It could be the messing with my head, while he left me blindfold and bound in the corner, telling me I was a slut, a toy, a thing to be used.
It could be how he made me kneel before him and bring me to that second of wild abandon before I come, that moment of almost madness, where he stopped me and left me standing begging to be allowed to cum and being denied.
These are some of the clues that made me think he might be feeling a tad better..............I'm not looking forward to when he us 100%....actually maybe I am.:)
Wednesday, 12 January 2011
Oh happiness I'm going home.
I am...it's true ....................I'm going home,
I'm going home; on a big shiney areoplane, with engines, and food and blankets and movies and all that stuff. I don't care that I will probably catch myself up with jet lag. I'm going home, not yet, not just yet, but in a few weeks, and not for long, for just over a week....some training..........but I'm going home.....
I don't care how long I will have that mind and bum numbing time on the planes, or how long I have to sit in departure lounges, or how many times I beep in security......I don't care...I'm going home.
Some of the time I have to work, but he is meeting me at the airport, he is driving me to my course, he is staying with me for some of the time. I will get to go home, I will even be allowed to visit my parents for a surprise.
I'm going home.
I'm going home; on a big shiney areoplane, with engines, and food and blankets and movies and all that stuff. I don't care that I will probably catch myself up with jet lag. I'm going home, not yet, not just yet, but in a few weeks, and not for long, for just over a week....some training..........but I'm going home.....
I don't care how long I will have that mind and bum numbing time on the planes, or how long I have to sit in departure lounges, or how many times I beep in security......I don't care...I'm going home.
Some of the time I have to work, but he is meeting me at the airport, he is driving me to my course, he is staying with me for some of the time. I will get to go home, I will even be allowed to visit my parents for a surprise.
I'm going home.
Tuesday, 11 January 2011
I told him and I will pay
I have spoken to my owner and he is doing okay, he had a bleed in the brain, a slow leaking capillary, they have done something to it and they are keeping him in hospital for a few days to make sure it has been stopped completely.
He is fine, and there is no damage, although it might explain his impatience..........:)
I feel sick with relief, although now they have to find out why.
I told him, I blurted it out in the relief bit of the mad slave ramble, it went something like this:
Oh my god Sir, are you ok? What happened? When did you go? How did you know it was serious? What were the symptoms? What diagnosis did the doctors give you? What procedure(breathe) ?What pain relief are they using? I made myself cum without permission, What follow up drugs are they prescribing? Who is the surgeon? How long will you be in for?(breathe)
"STOP...or I'll burst another one..............................you did what?"
So I took a deep breath and repeated myself and there was a very ..................very long silence.
And then a chuckle, then a belly laugh followed by more chuckling.
"I bet you felt bad,especially when I told you where I was...oh my, you must have been a mess".
There was more laughter.
"Oh my slave, only you could choose the most inopportune moment to do soemthing like that"
You will pay for it, but I am not cross."
At which point I burst in to floods of tears
Mostly tears of relief that he is ok, but a few that I had told him, that it was out in the open, that I wasnt holding anything back..but mostly that he is ok.
He is ok.
He will be ok
He is good and I am happy.
He is fine, and there is no damage, although it might explain his impatience..........:)
I feel sick with relief, although now they have to find out why.
I told him, I blurted it out in the relief bit of the mad slave ramble, it went something like this:
Oh my god Sir, are you ok? What happened? When did you go? How did you know it was serious? What were the symptoms? What diagnosis did the doctors give you? What procedure(breathe) ?What pain relief are they using? I made myself cum without permission, What follow up drugs are they prescribing? Who is the surgeon? How long will you be in for?(breathe)
"STOP...or I'll burst another one..............................you did what?"
So I took a deep breath and repeated myself and there was a very ..................very long silence.
And then a chuckle, then a belly laugh followed by more chuckling.
"I bet you felt bad,especially when I told you where I was...oh my, you must have been a mess".
There was more laughter.
"Oh my slave, only you could choose the most inopportune moment to do soemthing like that"
You will pay for it, but I am not cross."
At which point I burst in to floods of tears
Mostly tears of relief that he is ok, but a few that I had told him, that it was out in the open, that I wasnt holding anything back..but mostly that he is ok.
He is ok.
He will be ok
He is good and I am happy.
I haven't told him
I haven't told him and he has been taken into hospital...........................and I am so far away.
I know its not connected, but just a small part of me doesn't believe that. I know its illogical and stupid...but what if something happens and I haven't told him.
He is so far away and I cannot be there.
I know its not connected, but just a small part of me doesn't believe that. I know its illogical and stupid...but what if something happens and I haven't told him.
He is so far away and I cannot be there.
Monday, 10 January 2011
I have stolen something that belongs to my owner.
This morning I woke early, very early and I had been dreaming.
Usually I have scary dreams, ones that follow me into the day and bits of them reappear in my mind, shaking me, unsettling me. Sometimes the dreams are repeats of ones from my childhood,sometimes they stop and start over and over again, over the period of a days or over and over in one night.
They scare me, wake me up, frighten me to the point of being afraid to go back to sleep, sometimes I cry or call out.
When I am with him, he soothes me and holds me, or gently wakes me, although they are less frequent when I am with him, a lot less frequent.
However...this was not one of those dreams...............this dream was hot.......oh so hot.
I can't recall now what it was about, I couldn't even when I woke up, which is unusual, but I just remember it was hot.
I was half awake when I realised just how aroused I was, how wet my cunt was and without thinking my hand traveled south. Slowly feeling my passion rising, the throbbing growing, the need to satisfy myself overwhelming .............and without thinking....................I made myself cum.
.........oh it was good, one of those ones where you cum and then drift off back to sleep feeling Goooooooood.
But when I woke up properly about an hour later and realised what had happened, what I had done I felt so bad.
He has never said to me that I am not allowed to, but I just know I am not permitted to. this is a slave's body and it belongs to its owner, on that point there is no discussion. He can use, abuse and do to it whatever, whenever he likes, and I always have to ask permission to cum.
And now I have to tell him, I have to 'fess up. He will want all the details, every thing I did, everything I thought and no doubt why I thought I had the right to do what I did.
And I don't know how to tell him, but I cannot delay telling him or that will just compound things and then I will be in trouble for lying by omission, and I have never lied to him. But I honestly do NOT know what to say, how to word it, how to begin to talk about it.........I just don't know.
Sunday, 9 January 2011
Fluffy bedsocks and a lie in
He has a sense of humour...a twisted sense of humor. I woke up this morning and he was there waiting for me, I said hello and was about to talk with him when he said.........
"Have a lie in, don't you know it's the weekend?"
Oh haha very funny.
So I did.
And now I am sick. I have been fighting sickness for a while, but now the score is
Germs 1 Hidden slave 0
There is no doubt in my mind that he will somehow find a way to apportion the blame of this to me having a lie in!
But for now I am tucked up with the AC on full, a scarf, a pair of fluffy bed socks (which for some reason he always finds amusing and sexy too) a large bottle of cough mixture, and if only he was here to rub the Vick on my chest everything would be good.
"Have a lie in, don't you know it's the weekend?"
Oh haha very funny.
So I did.
And now I am sick. I have been fighting sickness for a while, but now the score is
Germs 1 Hidden slave 0
There is no doubt in my mind that he will somehow find a way to apportion the blame of this to me having a lie in!
But for now I am tucked up with the AC on full, a scarf, a pair of fluffy bed socks (which for some reason he always finds amusing and sexy too) a large bottle of cough mixture, and if only he was here to rub the Vick on my chest everything would be good.
Saturday, 8 January 2011
This week has two Fridays
This morning I had been ordered to wake up at 4.30...so I did.
We talked for a bit and I did my morning rituals for him and then he sent me to the shower, as normal. It must have been at that moment a look passed over my face. Its these sorts of things that irritate him. He feels by pulling a face I am questioning his authority, or disputing that he has the right to do as he pleases. It must have only been a small look, maybe just a quick roll of the eyes, because he asked if I had something on my mind. If it had been a big look, I would have been facing the wall so fast my feet wouldnt have touched the ground.
Well, what had been going through my mind was...."You bastard, you know I am tired, you make me wake up at 4.30 am and talk to you and be pleasant, its dark and I want to sleep, I was looking forward to still being in bed at 6am and you make me wake up at 4.30 am...you bastard"
Now, did I say this?..................... No I didnt................. Should I have said this?............ Maybe I should.
Instead I said in my best slavey response......."Sir, have you remembered its Saturday?"
"Its Friday".
Now being completely stupid and still half asleep I replied......"Sir , it IS Saturday".
"No slave, its Friday, Get in the shower".
And so muttering under my breath about injustice and unfairness, I showered as he watched. I washed my hair as he watched, shaved my cunt as he watched. As always did everything as he watched me. I then knelt on the floor waiting for him to decide what would happen. I was silently hoping he would let me go back to sleep for a while, although I am never allowed to sleep in late.
No chance.
"It looks like we have some time to spare this lovely Friday morning.
And he spoke to me about how he was looking forward to the time I am home with him, About how he looks forward to having me in my place; naked at his feet on the end of his rope. He spoke about how he will use my body, the body that belongs to him to use and abuse as he wishes. He spoke off how he is looking forward to having me stand against the wall, with the rope around my neck, and tied, so if I move it will tighten , and how he will take his crop to my tits and hit me with it, how my nipples will feel the end of the crop over and over again and how I will stand still.
He spoke of how my body will look when he has finished with his whip and how when I am sobbing from pain I will be allowed to beg to take his cock in my mouth and satisfy him.
He spoke of how he will bind my tits, how the rope will run between my legs holding my cunt open so he can use the crop on it and how I will thank him.
He spoke about how he owns me, my heart, my body, my life itself.
And somewhere in all of this I began to float off to that happy slave place. He smiled .
"You see, the control I have over you?"
My cunt was dripping, he made me show him, opening it for him to see, and I was smiling as he made me show him the trail of my juice dribbling down my leg.
He then had me get the cane he likes to use and cane my tits until they were swollen and red, marked all over, my nipples hard and painful, and then turn around and use it on my arse, counting each one as I did.
I know I cannot do it like he does, but after three hundred my arse was hot and sore and crisscrossed with marks, and he had me show him my cunt again.....this time I blushed.
The vibrator was turned on and as it vibrated against my cunt, my clit swelling, throbbing, I begged to be allowed to cum, but it was denied. He watched my face as I struggled to control myself.
"Now" he said.
And I felt my whole body shudder at the sound of his voice, my cunt tightening, pulsing as I came, overwhelmed by passion, desire and most of all by my submission to him.
I knelt before him, sweat running beteen my tits, down my back, tendrils of hair stuck to my neck and I flaoted away..................I know he told me to climb on the bed, I know he told me to cum again for him, and I heard, far in the distance those words................"Good girl" and it filled me with an overriding feeling of happiness, that I knew I had pleased him, that he was happy.
He left me there for a while. I remember seeing the sunrise, the light quickly filling the room, I remember hearing the birds, but beyond that nothing else. I didn't fall asleep....... I lay there until I heard him call me to him, and I pulled myslef back, fighting the wish I had to stay there, in that bliss filled limbo, to do as he wanted and return to him.................I asked him what I should do...............and he asked what day is it .......my response?
"Friday Sir, its Friday".
He laughed, told me that I should remember this week, when I had two Fridays and he told me to go away and have breakfast and relax.
It has thrown me all day, because although I know its not Friday and I don't have to work this Saturday, I have been at a loss of what to do with my time.....a little reminder in control he called it.
My mind has been on him all day, which I think was his evil plan all along.
We talked for a bit and I did my morning rituals for him and then he sent me to the shower, as normal. It must have been at that moment a look passed over my face. Its these sorts of things that irritate him. He feels by pulling a face I am questioning his authority, or disputing that he has the right to do as he pleases. It must have only been a small look, maybe just a quick roll of the eyes, because he asked if I had something on my mind. If it had been a big look, I would have been facing the wall so fast my feet wouldnt have touched the ground.
Well, what had been going through my mind was...."You bastard, you know I am tired, you make me wake up at 4.30 am and talk to you and be pleasant, its dark and I want to sleep, I was looking forward to still being in bed at 6am and you make me wake up at 4.30 am...you bastard"
Now, did I say this?..................... No I didnt................. Should I have said this?............ Maybe I should.
Instead I said in my best slavey response......."Sir, have you remembered its Saturday?"
"Its Friday".
Now being completely stupid and still half asleep I replied......"Sir , it IS Saturday".
"No slave, its Friday, Get in the shower".
And so muttering under my breath about injustice and unfairness, I showered as he watched. I washed my hair as he watched, shaved my cunt as he watched. As always did everything as he watched me. I then knelt on the floor waiting for him to decide what would happen. I was silently hoping he would let me go back to sleep for a while, although I am never allowed to sleep in late.
No chance.
"It looks like we have some time to spare this lovely Friday morning.
And he spoke to me about how he was looking forward to the time I am home with him, About how he looks forward to having me in my place; naked at his feet on the end of his rope. He spoke about how he will use my body, the body that belongs to him to use and abuse as he wishes. He spoke off how he is looking forward to having me stand against the wall, with the rope around my neck, and tied, so if I move it will tighten , and how he will take his crop to my tits and hit me with it, how my nipples will feel the end of the crop over and over again and how I will stand still.
He spoke of how my body will look when he has finished with his whip and how when I am sobbing from pain I will be allowed to beg to take his cock in my mouth and satisfy him.
He spoke of how he will bind my tits, how the rope will run between my legs holding my cunt open so he can use the crop on it and how I will thank him.
He spoke about how he owns me, my heart, my body, my life itself.
And somewhere in all of this I began to float off to that happy slave place. He smiled .
"You see, the control I have over you?"
My cunt was dripping, he made me show him, opening it for him to see, and I was smiling as he made me show him the trail of my juice dribbling down my leg.
He then had me get the cane he likes to use and cane my tits until they were swollen and red, marked all over, my nipples hard and painful, and then turn around and use it on my arse, counting each one as I did.
I know I cannot do it like he does, but after three hundred my arse was hot and sore and crisscrossed with marks, and he had me show him my cunt again.....this time I blushed.
The vibrator was turned on and as it vibrated against my cunt, my clit swelling, throbbing, I begged to be allowed to cum, but it was denied. He watched my face as I struggled to control myself.
"Now" he said.
And I felt my whole body shudder at the sound of his voice, my cunt tightening, pulsing as I came, overwhelmed by passion, desire and most of all by my submission to him.
I knelt before him, sweat running beteen my tits, down my back, tendrils of hair stuck to my neck and I flaoted away..................I know he told me to climb on the bed, I know he told me to cum again for him, and I heard, far in the distance those words................"Good girl" and it filled me with an overriding feeling of happiness, that I knew I had pleased him, that he was happy.
He left me there for a while. I remember seeing the sunrise, the light quickly filling the room, I remember hearing the birds, but beyond that nothing else. I didn't fall asleep....... I lay there until I heard him call me to him, and I pulled myslef back, fighting the wish I had to stay there, in that bliss filled limbo, to do as he wanted and return to him.................I asked him what I should do...............and he asked what day is it .......my response?
"Friday Sir, its Friday".
He laughed, told me that I should remember this week, when I had two Fridays and he told me to go away and have breakfast and relax.
It has thrown me all day, because although I know its not Friday and I don't have to work this Saturday, I have been at a loss of what to do with my time.....a little reminder in control he called it.
My mind has been on him all day, which I think was his evil plan all along.
Friday, 7 January 2011
Whats in a word?
It is strange how words can make you think.
The use of words can, in an instant, change your mood, change the way you see something, can change your opinion of someone or of something. A careless word can cause irriparable damage, or unmeasureable happiness, angry words filled with hate, bitterness and feeling of betrayal can wound and damage.
The first word of a beloved child, the last remembered converation with a loved one who has sadly died, the joke that makes you chuckle everythime you recall it, the whispered words of love shared in the most intimate of moments, words of passion, mixed with sweat, heat and lust, words that change our lives, words of employment, of proposal, legal words..........words.........
Millions and millions of words that we speak and hear in our life times.............. some careless thrown out without any thought of their real meaning or how they will be recieved, of the impact they have on others. And those words rehearesed over and over in our heads as we lay awake in the angst filled hours of the night, trying to finalaise what we want to say, to make our meaning clear.........
Today I heard some words......innocent words, words spoken by a child.......she said to me"I love you", out of the blue, with nothing preceding it, she just said it. When I smiled at her and bent to give her a hug she asked "You want to know why?" and in the nano second before I replied, I had thoughts of how I had treated her, how I had responded to her, reassured her, how I had spoken to her...so I nooded and her reply ........"Because I can"...................
Simple.
Nothing complictaed...just becasue she could, because her heart is filled with love and she has some to spare and she was giving it to me.....just words, but with a powerful meaning behind them. My heart was filled with such lightness and happiness from those simple words..."Because I can".
I thought about how we sometimes complicate the simplest of things and how we simplify the the most complex. How we close ourselevs off in the mistaken belief that we are protecting our hearts, and I will admit to this; frequently and almost always unsuccessfully, how we doubt things and people, question what needent be questioned and how we forget the feeling of "Because I can".
The second lot of words I heard today had a completly differnt affect on me.
When my owner said goodbye to me this morning he signed off with "Be good", I replied "Of course Sir" and quick as a flash came back, "good slave". Normally it is "Good girl", but today was differnt, and just a change in words, completely changed my mindset. I felt all mushy inside; my cunt clenched and I felt increadiblly submmissive, but equally it also made me smile. It was like a metaphorical pat on the head, like something you would absentminedly say to your dog if you were sitting watching telelvision and it didnt get up and chase a passing cat. Thats what I thought of, and I told him......"I feel like a well behaved dog". He called, but couldn't speak becasue he was laughing so much.
He sent me....."Good girl, go to work".
Both conversations made me very happy. Nothing complicated about either of them, no hidden agenda, no subtle meanings, not room for misunderstanding, just words ...just eight words.... and now twelve hours later I am still smiling...
The use of words can, in an instant, change your mood, change the way you see something, can change your opinion of someone or of something. A careless word can cause irriparable damage, or unmeasureable happiness, angry words filled with hate, bitterness and feeling of betrayal can wound and damage.
The first word of a beloved child, the last remembered converation with a loved one who has sadly died, the joke that makes you chuckle everythime you recall it, the whispered words of love shared in the most intimate of moments, words of passion, mixed with sweat, heat and lust, words that change our lives, words of employment, of proposal, legal words..........words.........
Millions and millions of words that we speak and hear in our life times.............. some careless thrown out without any thought of their real meaning or how they will be recieved, of the impact they have on others. And those words rehearesed over and over in our heads as we lay awake in the angst filled hours of the night, trying to finalaise what we want to say, to make our meaning clear.........
Today I heard some words......innocent words, words spoken by a child.......she said to me"I love you", out of the blue, with nothing preceding it, she just said it. When I smiled at her and bent to give her a hug she asked "You want to know why?" and in the nano second before I replied, I had thoughts of how I had treated her, how I had responded to her, reassured her, how I had spoken to her...so I nooded and her reply ........"Because I can"...................
Simple.
Nothing complictaed...just becasue she could, because her heart is filled with love and she has some to spare and she was giving it to me.....just words, but with a powerful meaning behind them. My heart was filled with such lightness and happiness from those simple words..."Because I can".
I thought about how we sometimes complicate the simplest of things and how we simplify the the most complex. How we close ourselevs off in the mistaken belief that we are protecting our hearts, and I will admit to this; frequently and almost always unsuccessfully, how we doubt things and people, question what needent be questioned and how we forget the feeling of "Because I can".
The second lot of words I heard today had a completly differnt affect on me.
When my owner said goodbye to me this morning he signed off with "Be good", I replied "Of course Sir" and quick as a flash came back, "good slave". Normally it is "Good girl", but today was differnt, and just a change in words, completely changed my mindset. I felt all mushy inside; my cunt clenched and I felt increadiblly submmissive, but equally it also made me smile. It was like a metaphorical pat on the head, like something you would absentminedly say to your dog if you were sitting watching telelvision and it didnt get up and chase a passing cat. Thats what I thought of, and I told him......"I feel like a well behaved dog". He called, but couldn't speak becasue he was laughing so much.
He sent me....."Good girl, go to work".
Both conversations made me very happy. Nothing complicated about either of them, no hidden agenda, no subtle meanings, not room for misunderstanding, just words ...just eight words.... and now twelve hours later I am still smiling...
Thursday, 6 January 2011
No cards with fluffy cats
Today the sunrise was beautiful, clear and bright but with gentle soft tones to the colours over the jungle. And it is a new day and it is better, but my family are now far away again and it feels quiet and empty, but I am blessed.
I have a beautiful family; healthy and happy children.
I have a job I love.
Somewhere to live.
And
Although I may be owned by a sadistic man, it is to him I turn when I need gentleness, kindness and comfort, and he gives it to me. Not always in the most conventional of ways, not with roses and fluffy cats on cards sort of way, but the way he knows is best for me.
I am blessed.
And he says I must count my blessing each and every one of them, and say 'Thank you Sir" after each one....................hmmmm.see what I mean, not conventional.
I have a beautiful family; healthy and happy children.
I have a job I love.
Somewhere to live.
And
Although I may be owned by a sadistic man, it is to him I turn when I need gentleness, kindness and comfort, and he gives it to me. Not always in the most conventional of ways, not with roses and fluffy cats on cards sort of way, but the way he knows is best for me.
I am blessed.
And he says I must count my blessing each and every one of them, and say 'Thank you Sir" after each one....................hmmmm.see what I mean, not conventional.
Wednesday, 5 January 2011
Ripping my heart out and a box of tissues
Today is a very sad day for me.
One of those days where you feel your heart is being ripped from your body, one of those days where you can hardly speak because the pain that fills you, stops the message from the brain to your lips and you are unable to form coherent sentence or sometimes even words.
The sort of day when you hope no one will be too nice to you, because the simplest look of sympathy or understanding of how you feel is enough to send you over the edge.
One of those days where the easiest of things stops you like you have walked into a wall, where you find yourself standing unable to move because you cannot think what you were going to do because the sadness is overwhelming.
I found myself walking along with tears pouring from my eyes, unable to stop them.
I was filled with complete despair.
At lunchtime I looked at my phone and there was a message, not a big long complicated message, a simple message.
My slave x
That was all the words said.........but that is not what my heart heard.
It hasn't made the pain go away, it hasn't made the pain less, but it has made it bearable.
It will pass, it always does; but for the time being I am holding onto those words............... "My slave x" .
That and a big box of tissues.
One of those days where you feel your heart is being ripped from your body, one of those days where you can hardly speak because the pain that fills you, stops the message from the brain to your lips and you are unable to form coherent sentence or sometimes even words.
The sort of day when you hope no one will be too nice to you, because the simplest look of sympathy or understanding of how you feel is enough to send you over the edge.
One of those days where the easiest of things stops you like you have walked into a wall, where you find yourself standing unable to move because you cannot think what you were going to do because the sadness is overwhelming.
I found myself walking along with tears pouring from my eyes, unable to stop them.
I was filled with complete despair.
At lunchtime I looked at my phone and there was a message, not a big long complicated message, a simple message.
My slave x
That was all the words said.........but that is not what my heart heard.
It hasn't made the pain go away, it hasn't made the pain less, but it has made it bearable.
It will pass, it always does; but for the time being I am holding onto those words............... "My slave x" .
That and a big box of tissues.
Tuesday, 4 January 2011
One of those days
Just one of those days....too tired to read or type....just a good night and sleep hopefully.zzzzzzz
Monday, 3 January 2011
A few well chosen words and a gentle reminder
Last night with a very few, well chosen words he reminded me that I am a slave, his slave. To do with what he wants, to be used as he chooses, to be spoken to as he wishes, to be made to feel and think the way he wants.
With a few well chosen actions he reminded me that I am a slave, his slave.
Once again my tits were bound, although this time not so tightly that it brought tears to my eyes, but then I told to lay in my place, face down on the floor with my hood on again, and I was left.
The first few minutes the rope bit slowly into my tits and they felt like rocks attached to my chest, like the skin was going to break and they were going to burst like overripe plums. then the heat began to fill them, and the pulse from my racing heart filled me too.
I lay there on the floor thinking about how I had behaved, about what I had said to him how I had called him unfair, and how he had smiled at that and told me of course he was unfair. I thought about my lack of trust and how I should have known better. I thought about many things lying there on the hard floor.
By the time he returned I was cold and stiff, my arms ached, my tits hurt, my shoulder were tight and my cunt was dripping. I was so pleased to see him and so surprised that ninety five minutes had passed.
I knelt up, with the hood still on and was told to slap my swollen tits and then to make myself cum. With my fingers pressing harder and harder on my clit, rubbing and circling it was not long before I was begging to cum, and was granted permission. So kneeling on the floor, tits bound, hooded I came for my owner, and then again, and again and again I had to repeat the process. For three hours he made me repeat the process over and over again until I was crying from frustration at not being able to cum any more, by tits and nipples sore and bruised, my breath ragged, my cunt swollen, red and sore.
"Slave you will stay there till you cum"
And I did. I stayed there on my knees, a play thing for my owner until once more I pleaded with him to be allowed to cum.
"No slave, you may not cum".
I was sent to brush my teeth, told to put on my rope that ties me at night, it was to be tight so that my knees were bent behind me, up to my arse and my hands near my chin.
I was sent to sleep. each time I moved in the night, I woke, the rope pulling on my wrists, my ankles or my neck, my bound tits still hard against the mattress.
and when I woke in the morning, before he had said, I was told to lie still an go back to sleep until the allotted time...and I did.
There was a message for me.
This is a gentle reminder slave of who and what you are, the control is mine, the choice is mine, no rights, no limits, no choice...every breath, every moment , everything is mine. slave, you are mine.
I felt waves of happiness wash over me as I crawled from my bed and lay face down on the floor to wait for my owner.
With a few well chosen actions he reminded me that I am a slave, his slave.
Once again my tits were bound, although this time not so tightly that it brought tears to my eyes, but then I told to lay in my place, face down on the floor with my hood on again, and I was left.
The first few minutes the rope bit slowly into my tits and they felt like rocks attached to my chest, like the skin was going to break and they were going to burst like overripe plums. then the heat began to fill them, and the pulse from my racing heart filled me too.
I lay there on the floor thinking about how I had behaved, about what I had said to him how I had called him unfair, and how he had smiled at that and told me of course he was unfair. I thought about my lack of trust and how I should have known better. I thought about many things lying there on the hard floor.
By the time he returned I was cold and stiff, my arms ached, my tits hurt, my shoulder were tight and my cunt was dripping. I was so pleased to see him and so surprised that ninety five minutes had passed.
I knelt up, with the hood still on and was told to slap my swollen tits and then to make myself cum. With my fingers pressing harder and harder on my clit, rubbing and circling it was not long before I was begging to cum, and was granted permission. So kneeling on the floor, tits bound, hooded I came for my owner, and then again, and again and again I had to repeat the process. For three hours he made me repeat the process over and over again until I was crying from frustration at not being able to cum any more, by tits and nipples sore and bruised, my breath ragged, my cunt swollen, red and sore.
"Slave you will stay there till you cum"
And I did. I stayed there on my knees, a play thing for my owner until once more I pleaded with him to be allowed to cum.
"No slave, you may not cum".
I was sent to brush my teeth, told to put on my rope that ties me at night, it was to be tight so that my knees were bent behind me, up to my arse and my hands near my chin.
I was sent to sleep. each time I moved in the night, I woke, the rope pulling on my wrists, my ankles or my neck, my bound tits still hard against the mattress.
and when I woke in the morning, before he had said, I was told to lie still an go back to sleep until the allotted time...and I did.
There was a message for me.
This is a gentle reminder slave of who and what you are, the control is mine, the choice is mine, no rights, no limits, no choice...every breath, every moment , everything is mine. slave, you are mine.
I felt waves of happiness wash over me as I crawled from my bed and lay face down on the floor to wait for my owner.
Sunday, 2 January 2011
Resolution and submmission
I always find New Year difficult, I think I always have. Its the arbitrariness of it all, just some random day with no deeper significance.
I have done the whole get drunk, snog various people, leap in fountains, ski down a mountain at midnight, gaze up at the stars in the Moroccan dessert and feel my insignificance in the greater scheme of things. Ive done the stay at home in bed with the flu; every pore of my skin hurting and snot flowing freely, I've done the gazing at my brand new baby, filled with wonder and fear for what the future will hold for them, I've done the "I'm sad, depressed, all alone New Year " wallowing in self pity and downing a bottle of wine weeping to self imposed selection of weepy songs that only women understand how important it is to play. I have done the stand under the tropical moon and gaze into the surf, I've done a lot of I'm so tired I will never make it to midnight type of celebration too.
I feel I have done a pretty fair selection of celebrations of New Year.
And when it is over, and the the next day dawns, I have done both the looking forward and looking back.
I've counted my blessings, pondered my fate, made plans, crossed things off lists, given myself a good talking too, wept at the sadness of some years and laughed at the joy I have had in other.
Usually my year starts in March, at the beginning of spring, but this year is different.
I have spent that last 24 hours thinking hard about things and it was sin and doubleknots recent posting that began to focus my thinking.
The difference between submission and obedience is sometimes so subtle, that it only happens in one's head, and that is what I have to do.
I have to submit.
Not just my body, but all of me. My heart, my soul, my mind. Those darkest corners of my mind where I hide things, where the whole"trust" bit lurks.
So this is my resolution, not chosen by me, but by him, the one I submit to......and that is the first bit.
I am sure I will still find it difficult, will fight against it some of the times, struggle, sulk(and no I'm not a brat, the sulking is in my head) but within this learning, is where I find my peace, my contentment, my happiness, how I make my owner and therefore myself happy.This is what he wants, my total submission.
Thank you Sir for allowing me this, for giving me this task.
I have done the whole get drunk, snog various people, leap in fountains, ski down a mountain at midnight, gaze up at the stars in the Moroccan dessert and feel my insignificance in the greater scheme of things. Ive done the stay at home in bed with the flu; every pore of my skin hurting and snot flowing freely, I've done the gazing at my brand new baby, filled with wonder and fear for what the future will hold for them, I've done the "I'm sad, depressed, all alone New Year " wallowing in self pity and downing a bottle of wine weeping to self imposed selection of weepy songs that only women understand how important it is to play. I have done the stand under the tropical moon and gaze into the surf, I've done a lot of I'm so tired I will never make it to midnight type of celebration too.
I feel I have done a pretty fair selection of celebrations of New Year.
And when it is over, and the the next day dawns, I have done both the looking forward and looking back.
I've counted my blessings, pondered my fate, made plans, crossed things off lists, given myself a good talking too, wept at the sadness of some years and laughed at the joy I have had in other.
Usually my year starts in March, at the beginning of spring, but this year is different.
I have spent that last 24 hours thinking hard about things and it was sin and doubleknots recent posting that began to focus my thinking.
The difference between submission and obedience is sometimes so subtle, that it only happens in one's head, and that is what I have to do.
I have to submit.
Not just my body, but all of me. My heart, my soul, my mind. Those darkest corners of my mind where I hide things, where the whole"trust" bit lurks.
So this is my resolution, not chosen by me, but by him, the one I submit to......and that is the first bit.
I am sure I will still find it difficult, will fight against it some of the times, struggle, sulk(and no I'm not a brat, the sulking is in my head) but within this learning, is where I find my peace, my contentment, my happiness, how I make my owner and therefore myself happy.This is what he wants, my total submission.
Thank you Sir for allowing me this, for giving me this task.
Saturday, 1 January 2011
Rudeness will always be punished
I threw a big hissy fit yesterday.
I behaved like a child and I am sorry.
He asked me to do something, it wasn't difficult, it wasn't something that I haven't done before, but doing it was going to be difficult because of other calls on me and my time.
He knew that, but he told me to do it.
I was rude and grumpy, I sulked and glowered at him over the miles.
He sent me away.
I sent him an email telling him he was being unfair, how he was making me feel and why.
I was there when he told me to be, not happily, pleased to see him, pleased to have time with him, but sulking and rude and stressed.
He sent me away
I came back later when he had told me to, and I was still grumpy and off hand.
He asked me to explain and I did.
He told me that I should have trusted him, he was not going to do what I has feared, all he had wanted was to say hello. he was not going to compromise my safety, my position, nor did he have any desire to make me stressed about it, I should have trusted him.
I was so angry. I was angry with him. I was angry with the world. I was angry with myself. I was just angry.
I was wrong.
I was punished......not for being angry.....but for being rude.
I was given a lesson on trust.
I was punished again.
And as the clock changed to midnight I was doing what I should do.
I was gagged, hooded, plugged, the toy deep inside me, tied so it and I, could not move.
The only thing I could hear was his voice, the only thing I thought about was him.
Then he told me off, harsh words, words slaves do not like, words that burn into my heart; "Let down, disappointed, expected more, you should know, bad behaviour," and all spoken softly with calmness and thought.
And I was filled with shame at my behaviour and my lack of trust and not realising that he does know best, he does always have my interest at heart, and most of all shame at my lack of submission.
I could not look at him, I wished he had been able to beat me, but the pain I felt was more than any beating, each word leaving a mark on me more painful than any cane, each phrase biting more than any strike of the whip.
I wanted to crawl to him and beg his forgiveness, but all I could do was beg.
He talked, I cried. he talked I cried more.
He sent me for a shower and a hot drink, and when I returned his greeting "My slave, my love, my sweet" filled me with a tearful sadness and with happiness.
And I curled up on the floor with my blanket and drifted off to sleep.
When I woke this morning , I had a message...." Happy New Year my slave"
I am sorry Sir.
I behaved like a child and I am sorry.
He asked me to do something, it wasn't difficult, it wasn't something that I haven't done before, but doing it was going to be difficult because of other calls on me and my time.
He knew that, but he told me to do it.
I was rude and grumpy, I sulked and glowered at him over the miles.
He sent me away.
I sent him an email telling him he was being unfair, how he was making me feel and why.
I was there when he told me to be, not happily, pleased to see him, pleased to have time with him, but sulking and rude and stressed.
He sent me away
I came back later when he had told me to, and I was still grumpy and off hand.
He asked me to explain and I did.
He told me that I should have trusted him, he was not going to do what I has feared, all he had wanted was to say hello. he was not going to compromise my safety, my position, nor did he have any desire to make me stressed about it, I should have trusted him.
I was so angry. I was angry with him. I was angry with the world. I was angry with myself. I was just angry.
I was wrong.
I was punished......not for being angry.....but for being rude.
I was given a lesson on trust.
I was punished again.
And as the clock changed to midnight I was doing what I should do.
I was gagged, hooded, plugged, the toy deep inside me, tied so it and I, could not move.
The only thing I could hear was his voice, the only thing I thought about was him.
Then he told me off, harsh words, words slaves do not like, words that burn into my heart; "Let down, disappointed, expected more, you should know, bad behaviour," and all spoken softly with calmness and thought.
And I was filled with shame at my behaviour and my lack of trust and not realising that he does know best, he does always have my interest at heart, and most of all shame at my lack of submission.
I could not look at him, I wished he had been able to beat me, but the pain I felt was more than any beating, each word leaving a mark on me more painful than any cane, each phrase biting more than any strike of the whip.
I wanted to crawl to him and beg his forgiveness, but all I could do was beg.
He talked, I cried. he talked I cried more.
He sent me for a shower and a hot drink, and when I returned his greeting "My slave, my love, my sweet" filled me with a tearful sadness and with happiness.
And I curled up on the floor with my blanket and drifted off to sleep.
When I woke this morning , I had a message...." Happy New Year my slave"
I am sorry Sir.
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