A blog from a woman on a journey of discovery.

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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.

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