A blog from a woman on a journey of discovery.

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Monday, 28 February 2011

The rollercoaster of pain and pleasure

I am waiting to hear from him about what happened at the hospital today, my heart is in my mouth as to what they will say, and about what the future holds.

In the mean time, to take his mind off it things he has decided to play with his new Tens unit he sent home with me.

He had me attach it to the top of my thighs, right next to, but not touching my cunt, and he began to ratchet up the power, until I was twitching away. It seemed that one of the pads was right on a nerve, and so it hurt like hell.

He had me stroke my clit, very very slowly and gently, just one finger, rubbing gently on my clit and then as he turned the pain levels up, he instructed me to slide one finger inside my cunt and show him how wet I was, and then to continue playing. The cam was on my face and I could see him looking intently at me.

He told me I was to tell him just before I wanted to come and I could feel it building fast, deep inside me , and as I told him he told me to turn the unit to full.....................and as I came my body was filled with pain and pleasure, and I rode them both like some bizarre roller coaster........waves of pain and pleasure filling me until finally the pleasure subsided and all I was filled with was the pain...........

It filled my body and filled my head, leaving no room for any thought, any doubts anything other than the all encompassing pain.
I didn't hear him at first tell me to turn it off, and he had to raise his voice for me to hear him, and when I turned it off, I felt this great void inside me.....empty,,,,,,,,,,desolate...........and then I heard his voice talking to me about control, and who has it, and how he can exercise his control, what he can do to me, what he can make me do, and how I need that control, how even if it is the pain, I need the control, and how I need him and it was like some kind of hypnotic response to him, I found myself agreeing.

When I had regained my composure and cleaned myself up; he had me just sleep in my normal rope, not bound , and,  for the first time since I left him I slept all night........with no dreams at all, no waking and I woke up feeling lighter in my heart.

So maybe there is, somewhere a light at the end of the tunnel and if I keep reaching out in the darkness I will find it......or maybe it is in his hand and he will pass it to me.

Sunday, 27 February 2011

Taking back all the control

Now I stand behind the wall..........it is a wall of my own making, of my own choosing...it is a wall that many of us are familiar with...it is the wall of self preservation.

I have peeped out a few times and found him waiting there, waiting for me. He knows he could knock the wall down or step behind it and drag me towards him, but he is a patient man and he is waiting for me to come to him.
This was what he said this morning when we were talking. The conversation had taken a strange turn and we were talking about an abstract person (me)

slave: she is scared to come out from behind the wall
owner: I know she is but I will always look after her guide her keep her safe and hold her heart close to mine, but it doesn't matter if she not ready yet I will still be here

Part of my pig headed brain wants to stay where I am, I have not changed in what I feel about how difficult I think it is going to be, so far away from him, it has never been easy, but now I feel it is more difficult. At the moment I seem to spend most of the time I am talking to him either on the edge of tears or crying itself, which is not easy for him.

The last three weeks have been difficult for both of us; and then one day last week he called me to say he was in hospital again. The problems with his head have reappeared and he has had lots of test, x rays, scans, etc etc and they have decided  that he had another bleed in his brain, the doctors say he has had a very small stroke; hence the forgetfulness, the struggling for words and the short temper ( although I have not seen any of that symptom). I tried to tell him he needed to go to the hospital, I tried to tell him, in my more than very considered opinion that that was what he needed to do, but he wouldn't have it. He said he was fine.

For a while it send the wall flying, mostly because I was trying to run towards him as fast as I could, but I can get no closer than the computer, I cannot go home to see him, it is not possible , and so I am stuck here, wishing I was there, worrying about him, thinking that how I have behaved cannot have helped, knowing that it is not my fault, but all the same......

He is ok, He is out of the hospital and back home, he has to go back again this week for more tests, he has a shed load of meds to take, he has been told not to work so hard and to reduce his stress!

And so for now I am trying hard to be open to him, to bare my heart and soul to him again and know that it is safe, I do not know if there is a future for us together; he has decided there is, and so as he is in charge I have to go along with it, but he knows how I feel and he knows how scared I am.

 He has decide to go back to the beginning. He has reiterated all his rules, he is expecting me to come straight home from work, unless I have specifically asked to do something else, I have to phone and text at regular intervals during the day, I am tied to the bed at night, and naked at all other times when it is possible, I must ask for everything when I am talking to him, once more I am back on the floor when he is busy, ...and so on.........he is taking back all the control.

And for now I submit, not with joy in my heart, but I do submit.

Saturday, 26 February 2011

Each moment took me futher away

I remember getting on the plane, and I remember pulling the blanket over my head and wanting to be left alone and crying silently for hours as each moment took me further away from him, I looked out of the window occasionally and could see the landscape changing, recognising big landmarks and knowing everything was slipping away.

Eventually I got to the first stopover place and I text him, straight away he text back, all I said was hello, because I did not know what else to say. he text me that he was glad I had text  and to let him know when I landed again.

When I finally got home I was tired, so very tired, so very sad and felt like I had left half of me behind.
I know that he had told me that I wasn't released, but telling him how I felt, how I was scared, had taken so much from me, not because he is difficult to talk to, far from it, it was because before I spoke I had had to face it myself and think about it all and decide if what I was saying was the truth or if it was just a way out, and I truly believed that it was the truth.

I had  twelve hours before I went back to work and I wanted to curl up somewhere dark and loose myself in the darkness, I wanted to wrap myself in his clothes and smell his smell, I wanted to recall all the times we had spent together, the words, the actions , the feeling.............but instead my misery was like white noise filling my head. and my self pity was all encompassing.

I wanted to talk to him, I wanted to be with him, I'm afraid I wanted to get back on the plane and go back to him, but knew I could not. I wanted to be able to look at him and not see the hurt and anger in his eyes...what I wanted was not to feel like I felt.

The problem  was I was angry, I was angry at everything; at him, at the world, at my job, but most of all at my self. I was angry that I was in a position whereby I had to tell him the truth, I was angry that I had told him and then I was angry that when he had said to me that actually I wasn't released that I hadn't said something then.

I went online to speak to him, and the only way I decided that I could cope with this was to do what he wanted, to be his slave still, to do as I was told, to switch everything off, to become detached from it all, from him, but most of all from myself.

And so this is where I have been for the last few weeks.........in a cold and barren place where there is no reaction to anything, no reaction to him ,no feeling, I am polite, I do as I am told .

He has been gentle, he has been kind and patient. He has tried talking to me, but I am unwilling and unable to be open about what I feel, I can't tell him.

There have been moment when things have been easier, the atmosphere lighter, where we have enjoyed each others company again, but they are few and far between. When I feel too vulnerable I close back down again, I have put up such a huge wall, that now it is all I can see.

The other day he  told me to do something, something silly and I told him outright "Its fucking stupid, I'm not doing it".
And rightly he was very angry at me, but he was more angry that I thought I could say no, and so I was punished, but I did not cry, I would not cry and I have not said sorry. I know he is still waiting for me to say it, and I won't say it until I mean it.

He has been kind to me and spent hours trying to get me to talk, but I have so little to say. He has made me cum for him and it just makes me cry, so while I am cumming I am crying, which is not what he wants at all.

He wants me to be happy, he wants me to be safe, he is doing what he thinks is best for me, for him, for both of us together......................and at the moment I am not sure. I know it is not my place to decide these things  but .......

How do I tell him how I feel........................how do I begin to tell him how much I love him and wish I could be with him to my last breath.....but how I don't know if I can bear to be apart from him in the meantime. He has told me i don't need to do the whole"self preservation thing" that is his job.

I can't eat.I can' sleep.............Its a mess and so am I.

Wishing I could freeze time

the alarm went off, but we were both awake anyway. the morning was more awful than the night before. he asked me to make him a cup of tea, which I did and then I gave it to him and stood at the side of the bed, not knowing what to do.
He had said I was still his, one half of me was so relieved, he would know what I should do and the other half of me was so angry that he hadn't listened to me, hadn't see my pain, .
He pulled me into his arms and told me that he knew I didn't want to be with him(untrue), but he had spent all night thinking about it and he was right to say no, he couldn't let me walk away, he couldn't let me throw it all away, he was doing what was right for me, and how could he let me go away feeling so lost, so alone. He would consider things when I was away, we would discuss things, the future , and all it entailed when I was back on the underside of the world, but for now I was his slave, I belonged to him and I would do as I was told.

I was cried out,,,,,,,I was numb.

I didn't want to be free,,its not freedom anyway..............but I felt I couldn't cope with this either.
I lay in his arms, savouring each and every moment, trying to get his smell deep inside me, to keep and treasure it, something to hold onto.
He kissed me and I cried, he touched me and I cried louder. I wanted him to love me, but I felt so unlovable, I felt so cruel, I felt he couldn't see what was happening to me. I loved him so much.........
we made love, that sad soulful love making, that parting love making, that gives you no pleasure...just gives solace. but mine was a cruel kind of solace.

And on that cold February morning we drove to the airport and he asked me if I wanted him to come inside....................I still wanted to say no, but in my silence he said "I'm coming".

We parked the car, and he sent me to get my trolley for the bags, which made me smile sadly.He took me to check in and we went to get a drink, and I sat in a cold  departure hall, my whole life falling apart.

He talked to me, in a calm quiet voice,, about what I am, how I should behave, what I should do, and it felt like he was talking about someone else.

It was time for me to leave, he walked me toward the security, and he wrapped hid arms around me , and I stood as I have done a thousand times, with my head on his chest, and I felt frozen in time, the world was rushing around me, and  we were in middle............... standing still.

I once more clung to him,I wanted to fall to my knees at his feet and beg him to keep me there, safe.....I wanted to hear him say that he would tell them I could not come back.
But...................... instead I had to pull out of his arms.. I couldn't speak........I looked him in the eyes, and touched my heart and then turned and walked away.

I tired not to turn around after security, I really did, but I couldn't help it........and he was there, where I left him, just watching.

Friday, 25 February 2011

"But I don't know what to do now, I don't know, I just don't know".

I couldn't bear to look at him, I really felt like I was being broken, I felt broken, but I really didn't think that I could handle this any more.
The thought of months and months without him, followed by a few stolen days again, followed by more months away from him..................it filled  me with what I can only describe as abject fear, I was worried about my mental health, its like seeing water in the desert and getting there and finding just enough to keep you alive, no more , no less and knowing that there will be more, but not knowing when.....and I just couldn't cope with the thought of it.

He bent down and pulled my up by my hands and sat me on the bed and asked me to explain where all this had come from, why I had not said anything the day before, or the one before that...................and I tried to explain to him, that it was inside me, like some rotting, evil thing that I had tried to overcome and couldn't, that I had tried to keep inside me, but I feared it and feared it would destroy me as I had once been almost destroyed before, I explained and I loved him and didn't want to hurt him, but I HAD to say it all, I couldn't not say.

I looked at his face and he was white, I thought he was angry and then I saw the tears in his eyes and  I wished I had not spoken, I wished I could take away all the words.

Maybe I was being selfish and only thinking of myself, thinking about what I needed, putting my needs first, above his, but I was torn with the thoughts that if I hadn't said anything then I was not being honest and in all of everything, I have been honest with him, and he knows that.

He asked me if this was what I really wanted and I started to cry again, to become hysterical, was that  what I wanted.?...no it wasn't, it wasn't what I wanted, but it was what I believed I  needed.

And for a long time there was silence..........painful silence that burned into my heart and he called to me, but he called me my given name and I remember putting my hands over my ears and wanting him to stop, but he talked to me calmly and said if that was what I wanted then it was how it would be.

This left me feeling stunned...empty...like a hand had reached inside me and ripped out my heart....I felt, bereaved.

He told me I didn't need the rope on anymore, but I couldn't take it off,  just couldn't. My hands wouldn't move, I couldn't take it off.

He walked over towards me and, looking at me he took the rope of and it fell................. in slow motion ...............to the floor at my feet.
I stopped there, not knowing what to do next.

I remember saying...........

"But I don't know what to do now, I don't know, I just don't know".

And he sat and looked at me, and I buried my head in my hands.

Time stood still,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,I don't know what happened, what was said, I felt like someone had died, I wished I had died.

I didn't want to hurt him, but I didnt know what elese to do, I felt there was no other option.

I remember at some point he told me that he wasn't staying in the hotel all day and that we needed to go out, to get a bit of perspective...............so we went to the nearest town, some tourist place and we wandered aimlessly round.

 We went to the pub and sat like strangers, I couldn't speak, every time I tried , I began to cry, I couldn't look at him, I began to cry, so he took me back outside and we wandered around more in the cold.
He had to go to a shop to get something, and he asked me if I wanted anything, I said no, and he growled at me that I was infuriating and I walked away, unable to be with him, unable to feel how awful I was.

We got back to the car and he told me I was rude, and I wanted to tell him he was horrid but couldn't , because he wasn't, he was hurting like me.

He drove me back to the hotel and left me in the room, I packed my bags, I was leaving the next morning.

I felt sick,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,what had I done, oh what had I done?

I looked at the rope, still on the floor where it had dropped and I crawled across the floor to where it lay and lay down next to it and lay my head on it and cried, I wept for all the things we had, all the things we shared and all the things he thought I was throwing away........... I cried like I have never cried before.

And that is where he found me  and hour or so later.

He told me to shower and dress, we were going out for dinner.

 We sat in an empty Indian restaurant, and he ordered food, which I pushed around my plate and he told me that he had been thinking about what I said and that he had been so shocked he had responded too fast, and that I was his, until he decided otherwise, not me, he owned me and that was how it is.

I wanted to shout at him, to hit him, I wanted to scream....... did he not realise how much courage it had taken for me to say anything, let alone ask him to release me..........didn't he understand anything?

But instead I sat in stunned silence..........................I didn't want him to think I hadn't meant what I had said, because I did, I had .....................................
He told me to eat my food, I shook my head.

He growled,"Eat something"
and I did, I didn't want to,  I thought i may choke on it, may throe up there and then,but..... out of habit, I did as he told me.

He drove us back in silence, I got ready for bed in silence, and we lay there, in icy silence, wrapped in our own thoughts.............mine was misery........... why woudln't he listen to me. and his? I don't know.

It was a long sleepless night for us both, the gulf between us like the thousands of miles I was about to physically put between us.

I wanted to be far away, but I didn't want to leave him, I didn't want to go, but I was by now so confused by everything........................ I was a mess.

He had offered to take me to the airport, I wanted to say no, I wanted to ask him how did he think it was going to be,Ii wanted to tell no, don't take me, drop me off, let me get a taxi, I' dont want it, I don't want to say goodbye to you, not in a cold and impersonal airport.

But I knew I wouldn't and I lay there waiting for the day to start so it would be over and more than anything I wanted to freeze time; to stay there next to him, however unhappy I was because the thought of being without him was far worse.

In a million little pieces

I have been awake most of the night, unable to sleep, my mind racing and turning as to what to write here, which words to use to try and explain what happened next, and I apologise now if it all comes gushing out and makes little or no sense. I correct the typos and grammar but not the content.

When I woke in the morning, having finally fallen asleep, I was tired and unhappy. I lay there for a while wondering what I was going to do, how I was going to say what I had to say and I started to cry. The tears just came. I felt him stir next to me in his sleep and I slipped out of the bed, not wanting it all to begin, wanting things to stay the same yet knowing I would have to face this awfulness.

I crept towards the window, picking up a spare duvet on the way and sat on the sofa wrapped up against the cold,  knowing that the cold was in my heart and no matter what I did I would not be warm. I sat and watched the sun rise slowly, staring out of the half open curtains, the din wintry light seeped around the edges of the room and he woke.

"Did I give you permission to leave the bed slave, did you ask?"
I turned and looked at him and felt my heart wold split, right there, and then into a million little pieces.

"What has happened slave, what is wrong"

This was the point at which I knew I had to speak, this was the moment when it would all begin, this was the end of things.

But I couldn't speak, I just couldn't find the words,

I am not allowed to lie, I have to tell him the truth, and I couldn't do it, I just couldn't. I put my head in my hands and I sobbed, I pulled the duvet around me, covering myself, shutting myself off from him and I sobbed.

"Talk to me sweet, talk to me, what has happened what is wrong?"

I got worse. I didn't want him to be nice, I wanted him to order me to tell him, so I would have no choice, so I would have the courage to do it........but he was being  nice to me, being kind and gentle. I wanted him to hold be against the wall and slap me, beat me to make me tell him, but he didnt and he wouldn't.

I sat silently trying so very hard to find even just one word to tell him, just I word to start me off.

"I....I...I............. can't"

Was what I managed.

"You cant what slave?"

Once I had started I couldn't stop, it came out in a torrent of words; of unhappiness, of fear and desperation.

I told him that I loved him.
I told him how happy I was, how much I had loved being home with him, how I had dreamt about these day would would have together, about coming home.
I told him how each morning I had woken up and thought that it was one more day closer to being with him, being at his feet.
I told him I didn't want to go back but I had no choice and then I told him....

I told him

I couldn't do it any more,

There it was................. I had said it, although I was sobbing so much I was unsure if he had heard me.

But he had.

I tried to explain, that how could I go back, and live a half life, less than a half life, I couldn't do it, I miss him so much and I had no idea when I would be home again, and when I did  come home, what time would we have,  how would it be?

I told him that it felt unbearable inside me to say it,  but mostly words poured from me trying to explain how I felt that if I continued like this that it would destroy me, that I would not be able to cope any more, that coping without him would , in the long run be easier than living a half life, a nothing for the next three years and I put my head down and I sobbed.

It took me a long time to get control  and he sat there.
 Then I looked at him properly for the first time and asked if he would release me.

Finally it had been said and it had been heard and I looked at his face, and he looked shocked.
The silence hung in the air, neither of us speaking, neither of us knowing what to say. I was shocked at all I had said, and he was shocked at what he had heard.

He got out of bed and came towards me, and took the rope in his hand and pulled me towards him, and I wanted to resist; I wanted to make him pull it hard to get me to come to him, but I walked towards him and collapsed in a heap at his feet, holding onto his legs, and he stood very still  and very silent.

(I am sorry I can't write anymore now, this isn't meant to be like some Victorian melodrama, but I have to stop writing ,I have to work, but I will write the rest after work, )

Thursday, 24 February 2011

bound to you

I cried, and cried.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pkVfANH5Zrc (in case the video doesn't work).

Sweet love, sweet love
Trapped in your love
I've opened up, unsure I can trust
My heart and I were buried in dust
Free me, free us

You’re all I need when I’m holding you tight
If you walk away I will suffer tonight

I found a man I can trust
And boy, I believe in us
I am terrified to love for the first time
Can you see that I’m bound in chains
I finally found my way
I am bound to you
I am bound to you

So much, so young
I’ve faced on my own
Walls I built up became my home
I’m strong and I’m sure there’s a fire in us
Sweet love, so pure

I catch my breath with just one beating heart
And I brace myself, please don’t tear this apart
[From: http://www.elyrics.net/read/c/christina-aguilera-lyrics/bound-to-you-lyrics.html]

I found a man I can trust
And boy, I believe in us
I am terrified to love for the first time
Can’t you see that I’m bound in chains
I finally found my way
I am bound to you
I am bound to

Suddenly the moment’s here
I embrace my fears
All that I have been carrying all these years
Do I risk it all
Come this far just to fall, fall

Oh, I can trust
And boy, I believe in us
I am terrified to love for the first time
Can you see that I’m bound in chains
And finally found my way
I am bound to you

I am,
Ooh, I am
I’m bound to you

Wishing I was back in that cupboard.

He told me that we were eating in the hotel and that he was going down to meet his friend, I tried to ask him who it was, but I couldn't get the right words to ask without appearing to be questioning him about his plans, so I just left it.
He told me to come in about half an hour and meet them in the bar. I sat upstairs fretting about who it was, what was going to happen......and finally I went down to the bar and saw them both sitting there, their backs towards me. They heard my shoes on the floor and turned around, both of them standing to greet me. I knew his friend...........it was an old friend who I had met a long time ago, but I couldn't remember his name, he introduced me to him again and we sat and he ordered me a drink.

They continued their conversation, trying to draw me into it, but I felt a little dislocated from the situation and was glad when we went to the table for dinner.

They stopped talking about work, and his friend"James" addressed me. "So you are home..... for how long?"
I told him I had thirty six hours left, and that they seemed to be flying by so fast. He nodded and told me that it is always that way when you don't want to leave somewhere or someone.

We talked some more about my job and how life was in general, about politics, just  dinner table talk and then my owner order my food for me.James smiled at me, at  the face I pulled at his choice.

And then my owner looked  at me and said, "James was here in the area, so I invited him to join us".

Join us? What the hell did that me? What was he talking about? I tried to keep my face still, to stop my panic from showing, to stop my fears overwhelming my mouth and spilling out in a "What the fuck does that mean Sir", and they both looked at me and howled with laughter .

"Your face, slave," said my owner, "oh my god that was funny".

I blushed and lowered my head, looking at my cutlery,  suddenly filled with great interest in where it was made.

They both laughed some more, and James said "I've joined you for dinner, nothing else ....... just dinner".

Oh floor , please open and swallow me up!

I took a deep breath and calmed down a bit, but them James said "I want you to tell me about the time in the cupboard and about when Icalled yesterday".

And so over dinner I had to describe to the two of them exactly what had happened, how I felt, what he had done to me and what I had done too.
And by the time they ate their pudding, I was red faced and wanting to leave, wishing I had not come to dinner, and that I was still all alone in the cupboard.

 My owner left the table  and I was left with James; he touched my hand and said to me
"You know your owner is very proud of you, how you have coped with such an intense time, and  remember that you never have to be afraid or ashamed of what you have done, because you are doing as you are told, you are doing it to make your owner happy, you have no choice, you should be proud."
and he patted my hand again and smiled at me.

 My owner returned and asked what we were up to, and James told him that we were just talking and he winked at me, I blushed yet again, and smiled at my owner and he smiled back.

He invited James to join us in the room for brandy and my heart sank, because I have to be naked in the room and I didn't know what to do. We walked to the lift and as we got in my owner said, "Yes slave, as normal" how did he know, oh how did he know?

I opened the door for them and then standing in the corner of the room I removed my clothing while he pouerd them a brandy, I passed my owner the rope which he put around my neck and he told me to sit on the floor. So I sat naked on the floor at my owners feet while he talked to his friend, and I sat quietly, hoping I was invisible, that they couldn't see me, I sat still, hoping they wouldn't hear me.............but I was sent to fetch more brandy, and they carried on their conversation as if I was not there.

My owner reached down and stroked my hair a couple of times, stroked my nipples and played with the bars and that was it.
 After and hour or so I was asked to show James out, he said good bye and kissed me on the cheek, said "next time it will be more than dinner" and was gone.

"Oh slave , I have never seen you so quiet and so still, I know what to do when I want peace and quiet now"

I wondered what was going to happen next and sat at his feet, waiting, and he continued to stroke my hair, and I began to relax, he took me by the hand and led me to the bed, tucked me up, and told me to sleep and he would be back later, he had some stuff to do and I was to sleep.

He kissed me goodnight and left, closing the door wuietly behind him
And this is when things began to fall apart completely, it was now that all the doubts began to surface, this was the time that I began to panic.

The week had been so perfect in so many ways, it had been so intense, filled with all those things that make "us " so prefect, it was filled with happiness and laughter, joy, and all those feelings that we both need.

And soon it would all be coming to an end, it would be over and I really had no idea when I would  be home again. I had no idea what it would be like when I was home, how things would be, how he would be, and how I would be............................and I began to complelety panic about evrything.
There was so much going on in my head, I just didnt know what to do. I thought about getting up and trying to find him, but there were things in my head I didnt want to, or wasnt ready, to say to him and so I did the best thing I could do, I slept.

I was so overwhelemd it was my only option.

I heard him come in and I stayed  "asleep" ,he got into bed and I crawled towards him and clung to him, wrapping my arms around his neck, my legs around his and holding like I was on a sinking ship.

I heard him ask "slave?", but I didn't answer, and he wrapped his arms tighter and I felt him fall asleep.

 And I lay there all night, safe in his arms, dreading the next day and wondering how I would find the words I needed.

Wednesday, 23 February 2011

Playing with his toy by hitting my nipples with his knife.

When I woke he was gone; my heart sank. The room was empty. I got up and went into the bathroom, and there stuck on the mirror was a note telling me he was meeting a client and would be back in two hours and he had signed it with a kiss and the time. I looked a the clock and relasied I had 40 minutes left.

 So I filled the bath with hot, hot water and bubbles, lots of bubbles and lowered myself carefully into it, savouring the heat, enjoying the feeling of the hot water on my sore nipples.

I say silently in the water, thinking about all of the things that has happened in the last few days, and that I would be leaving soon, back to my other life and I was filled with such overwhelming sense of sadness and loss, of how unfair life can be and self pity...lots and lots of it, washing over me with the bath water as I sank beneath it.

I knew he would be back soon, so I dried myself, put my rope on and waited near the door on my knees....and exactly two hours from the time on the note I heard his key in the door.
He came in, passed me his briefcase and collapsed into the chair. I put his case on the floor, and waited.

He called me over, so I crawled across the floor to him and knelt in front of him....................I took his shoes and socks off and began to massage his feet. He sat there watching me, and then reaching down he slowly wound his fingers in my hair my hair and pulled me  towards him. When my face was level with his crotch he got out his very hard cock and told me to make him cum.

So I knelt on the floor, between his legs, taking him in my mouth, licking and sucking, running my tongue round the head of his cock, feeling it jump under my touch, feeling it swell, teasing him, taking him deep in my mouth, licking his balls, and when he was ready to cum, I was so excited at being allowed to have him cum in my mouth, but at the last moment, he pulled my head back and came all over my face.

I felt his cum dripping down my face, onto my lips, desperate to lick it but I stayed still as he covered me in cum.

He got up and walked away, leaving me kneeling , my mouth feeling empty without him.

He called me over to him and began to bind my tits, he slipped the rope over my head and under my breast , pulling it tight, biting into my flesh. he wound it round and round, and over my shoulders, and began to tie each breast , tighter and tighter till they were swollen and beginning to turn red.....................

"Now for some fun my little slave, now for some fun"

And his hand went to my neck. he began by stroking it gently, very gently, and then slowly, almost imperceptibly he increased the pressure, keeping his eyes on mine, locked together, tighter and tighter until things began to swim, till the tingling in my hands came, till things began to turn black around the edges.........................................and he released me.

He picked up the vibrator and ran it over my sore and swollen nipples and then shoved it deep inside me and once more his hand went to my throat, I began to feel the need to cum, a big need to cum.

"No slave , not yet"

And his hand squeezed tighter and tighter  and once more I began to feel things slipping away from me.
I didn't fight it..........I stayed there under his hand, feeling helpless.

He released me again and took out the vibrator. picked up the crop and began to gently tap my nipples with it..the pain was deep and heavy, then he began on my cunt, the end of the crop catching my cunt lips, the inside of thighs and he squeezed.

He laid me on the bed, opened my legs wide and began to slap my cunt hard, alternating it with the crop, I was so desperate to cum I was on the edge of tears, begging him  to let me, pleading, but his hand reached once more for my throat and this time he squeezed hard, closing the air off, while his other hand was ramming into my cunt, deeper and deeper,, fucking me.

And as I came he still held my throat, and I fought against his hand in my cunt and I fought against his hand on my throat as I bucked and writhed and when I thought my lungs would burst  when I felt I was about to pass out he let go of me.

He gave me a minute to get my breath, he stood me up, put the hood on me again, tied the rope around my neck and pulled it tight. He took the end of the rope and looped it over the door of the bathroom and tied it to the handle inside, with a  slam, he pulled the door shut and told me what he had done.
I was on  the balls of my feet, he once more put the string from my nipple bars back in my mouth and told me he was going to play with his favourite toy.

I asked him, through gritted teeth what it was and he replied "You slave, you"
I remember the feel of it, the vibe in my mouth, on myn ipples , on my cunt, being pumped in and out of my cunt.
I remember the feel of his hands on me, piching, squeezing, poking, stroking.
I remember the feel of his mouth on me, licking me, biting, sucking.
I remeber the crop tracing down my body and waiting for its strike which never came.
I remember hearing him open the draw where the knife was , and trying to move away from it, and he telling me if I moved, if I  bent my knees the rope would cut off my airway.
I remember having to to stay still

The knife ran down my body, over my very swollen tits, feeling like it would split them open. he hit my nipples with it. He ran it up the inside of my thighs and around my cunt, and reminded me not to move.
He took the knife and pushed it into my mouth so I was holding it with my teeth around it..............................and then he made me cum.................very very slowly puling my cunt lips , stroking me, finding my G spot and playing me until I felt I would explode into a thousand pieces ....................and I came all over his hand.
He lifted me up, opened the door, relased the rope and lay me  face down on the bed.

With my arse in the air, he spanked me until it was glowing and he fucked me, like he had not fucked me for moths.........hard and deep, demanding, holding my hips and pulling himself deeper in, grabbing the rope and pulling on my tits......and when he was done, he  filled up his toy with his cum.

I heard him get  out his camera and I heard him take photos of me, he held open my cunt and took photos of his hand inside me, he took photos of my tits, of the ropes. he removed the hood and took photos of my face, covered in a mixture of sweat and dried cum.

He undid the ropes and kissed where the marks were, he stroked my body, kissed me all over, and then taking me by the hand he said
 "I have always looked after my toys and put them away when I have finished with them."...and I began to worry that I was going into the cupboard again, but he smiled and patted me on the bottom and told me to shower, we were going out to meet a friend.

Tuesday, 22 February 2011

7x14 =98 ...a timely punishment

The next morning I had to go to more training, this time not so far away, but I was up early, but not before having my head pushed under the covers and being allowed to suck my owners cock before my breakfast. It really was a quicky before I shot out of the door.

I had to text him, on each hour until I got back, and if if was more than five minutes past the hour for any reason other than the outbreak of war or and earthquake there "Would be consequences".

 I made 7am, 8.03, 9.01, 10.10,11.06, 12.00, and 13.14.

 He was not impressed and I was worried.

As I drove back to him, I began to contemplate what the "consequences" may be, but, in the end I gave up, as there really is never any point.

I knocked on the door and waited for him to tell me to come in. I crept in sheepishly and knelt at his feet, near to where he was working, talking on the phone. He indicated that I should stand, and remove my clothes, all whilst  he continued talking about work. He pointed to the corner of the room and continued his conversation. when he had finished I waited expectantly for him to call me, but he didn't.

"Well slave, I've checked and war has not been declared...so any good reason why some of the times you were so late?"
There was no reasons and so I mumbled into the corner of the room "No Sir".

He had me crawl over to him again and kneel at his feet.

I have been thinking of how to punish your bad manners slave, how's your maths?

Well he knows how my maths is , its good, very good and so I didn't say anything................

"Choose a number between five  and ten slave...."

It's always a difficult one ....until you know the parameters of what they are planning, and then there is the whole choosing thing again, so I hesitated......he started to count from 5 backwards and I know when he gets to zero I have to have chosen..........

"Seven Sir, please, I choose seven..."
"Oh good choice slave...hows your seven times table....?"
"Not bad Sir.............".
He told me what times he had received the messages and told me to multiply the late minutes by seven...........................................

"14  times 7 Sir is 98 Sir"
"Very good slave,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,so 98 it is then."

98 what? oh how I wanted to ask him, 98 what...?all of a sudden it sounded like such a big number.

The bag was on the floor near his feet and he reached inside it.

He got out the hood, this is not a leather one or a rubber one, it is like a big dark magicians bag with a draw string..............and I hate it.

He pulled out the butt plug and laid it on the bed.
He pulled out the crop and laid it on the bed
He pulled out the belt and laid it on the bed
And he pulled out a clothes hanger, the type with the clips on for trousers or skirts and he laid that on the bed.

He pulled me up by my hair and put the hood on me pulling the drawstring tight, but not so tight I couldn't breath, and then he bend me forwards and with a little lube and big push he rammed the plug into my arse. and then he knelt me down again and said "98 minutes slave, 98".

And so for the next 98 minutes I knelt there while he watched television, made a cup of tea, called a friend and chatted about nothing significant , and "No I'm not doing anything at the moment, nothing important, of course I can talk...................yes she's here with me...no....she being punished.............." I wanted to curl up and die with shame, embarrassment and humiliation.

And after the 98 minutes when he let me out, I was like I am always, desperate to see him, to be able to touch him, to not feel isolated and alone...............but he wouldn't let me touch him. He got the cane and pointed at the hanger....................

"Pass it to me slave please."

So I picked it up and carefully passed it to him, on my hands with the hook bit facing him. he picked it up carefully and dangled it from his fingers.
He turned and went to the wardrobe, I could hear him inside and when he turned round he had something in his hands, and I realised it was the knickers I had worn under my jeans the day we went along the river. He pointed with the cane, indicating I should stand in front of him, and he put the knickers on the bed next to me. The hanger,  in both hands, he moved the clips until they were lined up with my nipples. the first one he put on, closing it slowly over my nipple, the edge of the clip past my bars...........oh it hurt, that mind numbing hurt of initial pain, and then............he snapped the other one on, not gentle easing it closed............snap like a crocodile, with jaws of death.......................I cried out and as I did, he showed the knickers into my  mouth. I sobbed and cried as the pain flooded from m nipple, I moaned and he stood and watched me; he just stood and watched me.

When I had calmed down a little and got my breath back, he pulled the hook of the hanger towards him and upwards. I reacted by trying to get higher, onto my toes, he pulled higher and I yelped. He put his fingers in my mouth and then followed them with the hook.
 He told me to stand up straight and look at him.

He lectured me; about being late, about manners, about how or why I could possibly imagine that my time would ever be more important than his time, he asked if I had any reasonable excuse, to which I shock my head.

"I am upset that you think so little of me that you cannot find the time to send a text, that is why I am punishing you, for your bad manners and thoughtlessness".

And with that ...........he bent me over and placed my hands on the bed.....................

"You will not move and you will count and if you let the hanger fall from your mouth we will start again."

And he picked up the belt and began to use it on my arse, on my legs and on my back....49 times it hit me and I counted each one and then he put it down and picked up the cane......................and I counted, some times it took me a long time to be able to say the number, some times I was frightened that the hook would fall from my mouth, sometimes I had to think hard which number I was on............but finally I said 98 ....................and it was over.
Not all of them had been hard, not all of them had stung or hurt, but each one I had felt and each one I had counted.

He removed the butt plug and then his hands were on my hips.

"Let go of the hanger slave, ...........................its over."
So I let go and knew that it was coming off and I was afraid, afraid of the pain,...................................He unclipped them at the same time and the rush of pain overwhelmed me,  I felt my knees buckle, and he put his hands under my armpits and held me steady. his hands reached across to my nipples and he squeezed them tightly, very tightly, numbing them again, and then slowly , very slowly reducing the pressure on them.
He laid me on the bed, on my stomach,  and examined the view...............

"How may times did I punish you slave?"
"98 Sir"
"How many minutes were you late slave?"
"14 Sir."
"Yes slave 14 minutes late................you will not forget that will you slave?"
"No Sir I wont forget."

And then I began to shake, and he wrapped the duvet around me, and pulled me close to him. He stroked my hair and wiped away my tears as I begged his forgiveness. he assured me it was all over now, I had been punished and it was finished, he expected me to remember what I had learned, but it as over.
He made me a drink and fed me some biscuits, he sat and watched me, talking to me, I don;t know what about, just soothing word. he made me eat some more and gave me a drink of water.
He laid me down on the bed and told me he would be watching me sleep, and he go my rope and put it around me my neck.
He got his work and laid next to me on the bed. I unraveled the duvet and crawled closer to him, trying to get as much of me touching him as possible, feeling the roughness of his jumper on my  very sore , but not caring, needing to be close to be touching. he reached a hand towards by sore arse and pulled me close and told me to sleep.

'Tonight slave, when you are rested we will have some fun, now sleep"

And I did, I slept for hours, but always aware that he was next to me and I was next to him....naked and sore, but I was next to him.

Monday, 21 February 2011

"The gentleman called and said he would be back soon".

I didn't want to take the coat off, but knew I had to shower, to get ready and so very reluctantly I stood up and took it off. I hung it in the cupboard where not so long ago I had been left. I stripped off my clothes and got into the shower.

I love having a shower, and always feel somehow renewed by it. It seemed to wash away more than my tears and left me feeling expectant and happy. I dried myself with one of the huge fluffy white towels and started to dry my hair. I don't normally, but it is one of the things that he always tells me off about, and so I carefully dried it, brushing it, which again is not something I do, even though it is shoulder length, I just rarely brush it.

As I stepped into the dress, I felt its softness on my skin, as I did it up behind my neck I thought of him and his hands on my neck. I put my hair up, thinking again of how much he likes it that way. Putting in my earrings and putting on a necklace he had given me long ago, a simple silver heart, that rested just at the top of my cleavage.

I decided not to wear any make up, sometimes he tells me to and sometimes he doesn't, but this time I decided not to.

I tidied up the rooms and sat on the chair and waited for him, I waited a long time, not wanting to turn on the television in case he came back and thought I wasn't excited about him coming back, not wanting to be distracted by the television either, I turned on the music and turned it down very low. I curled my legs up under me on the sofa and waited., thinking of nothing in particular other than how much I love being his slave, being owned by him and how happy I was.

A knock at the door made me jump, I leapt up and ran to the door, thinking maybe he had lost his key, I opened the door smiling, ready.................but it was room service.

My heart sank, thinking he was busy and had ordered me dinner. But the man wheeled in a trolley and began to set the table. He carefully laid the cutlery on the table, the plates, he moved the orchid onto the centre of the table and lit the candles.

"The gentleman called and said he would be back soon".

And with that he left.

I looked at the table  and was filled with happiness and a sudden stomach rumbling hunger. He hates that I am a fussy eater and always makes me try food. I wondered what we would be eating, he likes just about everything, especially fish and I hate it, so I was hoping it wasn't that as I really was hungry by now.

I heard his key in the door and once more leapt to my feet. He flung the door open dramatically and stood there smiling at me. "I see you are ready slave, you look lovely, give me five minutes, close your eyes"
I could hear him crashing about in the room for a bit, I heard him in the bathroom; could hear him washing, heard the swish of the towel as he took it off the rail. I smelt his aftershave, and I heard him come back into the room.I heard him sit down and sigh.

"You can open them now slave".

I was half expecting a surprise of some sort; not a gift , but a surprise, but there he was opposite me, looking very clean, very handsome, in a beautiful white shirt and pair of trouser, and bare feet, which made me smile. I think,, in his rush he had forgotten his shoes.

"Hungry slave? I am sorry I was late".

I was itching to ask him what was for dinner, and then it arrived and I couldn't believe it. It was all of my favourite food. Each course was my favourite food, not his, but mine. He smiled at me as I laughed at the food and how thoughtful he had been. I thanked him over and over again, but he just said "My slave, you are welcome".

And when the last bit of dinner had been eaten, the wine had been drunk, the candles were flickering gently, he took me by the hand, and led me to the bed.

And there we  made love,................... nothing else................... we just made love.............................late into the night..................soft gentle, loving, heart wrenchingly beautiful love making.

I woke in the middle of the night; he was fast asleep, his hand resting on my breast, and as I stirred his hand tightened slightly and he smiled in his sleep.
I slipped out from underneath his hand,  picked up my dress and his clothes, put on a rope, quietly went into the bathroom.

I returned with my rope on around my neck and as I got back in beside him, I put the end in his hand. His fingers curled around it and he whispered.

"Sleep well my slave, I love you".

And I lay in his arms, safe, and full and very very happy and I closed my eyes

Sunday, 20 February 2011

Something else to warm my arse

Sleep evades me, the noise of the rain in the jungle keeps me awake, the thoughts in my head, the heaviness in my heart prevents me from sleeping and so I will write more of what happened when I came home.

By the time I got back into the car it was cold and beginning to get dark, I was hungry and my arse hurt. I felt dislocated and alone.I thought about what had happened that afternoon . I realised he had hardly spoken to me, that most of the time I was with him had been silent. Sometimes I talk too much and he gets irritated and makes me be quiet, where as other times, it seems to amuse him. But when he chooses silence, I am never in any doubt that that is what I must be, until he says otherwise.

The problem with silence is that it gives me time to think, and that is why I try to fill it at time, and  I suppose that that he what he was doing. He was making me think. Sometimes I am told what I must think about, and other times I am left to figure it all out for myself, this was one of those times.

The past few days had been very intense and to be honest I was exhausted> I was jet lagged, I was tired from work, I was sick with a bad chest and the intensity of our time together was hard. It was good to have some time on my own, to let my mind wander, to appreciate the beauty of the scenery that was slowly disappearing in the darkness.

I felt very alone and isolated , his lack of response to me out in the open, exposed to the world, his dispassionate attitude, his coldness...all of these feeling  surfaced and I began to cry. At first the tears just poured from my eyes, but then I began to sob, great big, snotty wet sobs, I felt so sorry for myself, so vulnerable,  so used and humiliated. I pulled the car over, put my head on the steering wheel and cried and cried and cried.

I cried for all the night I had gone to sleep without him, I cried for each mile that I am away from him, I cried for all the times I have missed his hand on me, I cried for important days we had missed together , I even cried because I can't make him his first cup of tea in the morning. I was filled with such sadness and self pity, and I cried mostly because more than anything I want to come home, I want to stay at home.

When I realised how long I had been there, I knew I had to move, had to drive the car back. Still feeling alone, I reached for my phone to send him a text, but if was off. Had I turned it off or had he?

If he had I knew not to turn it back on again, unless it was an emergency. Was sitting , crying at the side of the road  feeling sorry for myself considered an emergency?

 I didn't think it would qualify.

So I sniffed a few times, and drove back to the hotel. After leaving the car I walked into reception and was told there was a package for me. I waited, but they said that they would bring it up to the room. I was expecting a package, a delivery from a company, somethings to take back for work and so I went back to the room, thinking no more of it.

When I opened the door, there on the table near the desk was an orchid in a vase, just a single orchid, pink and perfect and beautiful.....I touched it, bent to look inside it, smelt it, forgetting they have no smell. It reminded me of the orchids that grow in the jungle, attached to trees, that grow in peoples gardens, isolated in little pots hanging from hoot stuck in walls.

A knock on the door , I opened it and there was a man holding a very large parcel.

He brought it inside the room and I could see it was heavy, this was not what I was expecting.

I carefully opened the wrapping and lifted the lid from the box, inside were two packages wrapped in tissue paper.
I lifted the first from the box and pulled the tissue paper, and inside a beautiful black halterneck dress, soft and flowing, with a low cut v and a very low cut back. I put it on the bed and picked up the other package and once more ripped the paper, inside was a beautiful , darkest gray cashmere full length coat.

I slipped it on over my clothes and wrapped it around myself, I put my hands in the pockets and found a note

"Something else to keep your arse warm slave"

I lay down on the bed and began to cry again.

Taking your slave outside

I went off to my work thing, leaving him alone in the hotel, he told me he had lots of work to do and I hoped that was true, because if I was leaving him alone; with little or nothing to do, then his mind would be coming up with devious plans....................

Work was intense, hard, exhausting; in a stuffy dark room, too much information in too short a time, and my head was spinning and I wanted to go back to him.

By the time I arrived back I was tired, grumpy and hungry and I knew he would be expecting something different.

I opened the door very tentatively and stepped inside the room; he wasn't at the desk, he wasn't lying on the bed and he wasn't in the bedroom either.

I was sort of tempted to look under the bed and in the wardrobe, but knew that was just one step too silly.

I felt my phone buzz in  the bottom of my bag, and delved deep to find it.....there was a message. He told me which pub he was in and the postcode. I went back out to the car, put the information into the sat nav and set off across the countryside through  the cold, wind and a slight drizzle.

I walked into the pub, my heart was pounding in my chest, I looked around and there he was sitting in front of the fire with a pint of beer in his hand and a small brandy on the table for me.

I sat down next to him and he asked about my day, he asked how the work had been and then in the middle of the normal conversation he asked how my cunt was. He does this and it completely throws me ever time, I looked around to see if anyone had heard, if they had they were showing no interest.
I mumbled an answer and he insisted I answered clearly and politely, "My cunt is sore Sir, thank you".

He smiled and passed me my drink. We sat in silence and then he told me to drink up, we were going for a walk.

I had struggled to stay warm on my visit, the temperature was about 30 degrees colder than I was used to, and I didn't have the best coat in the world, but, he had decided ........... we were going for  a walk.

We set off, him holding my hand, leading the way, along the river. The path was clear, a little slippy in places, the sun came out and the day was beautiful. The scenery was stunning; fast flowing dark water, made black by the peat from the moors,  limestone cliffs, green grass cropped short by hungry sheep and bare, skeletal stunted trees along the rivers edge.

We must have walked for about an hour, sharing the beauty, but sharing no words. We walked through one more kissing gate and he stopped and pulled me towards him. We had a good view of the path in both directions...I say we...He had a good view, I had my eyes closed, that's what he told me to do, so of course I did it.

It became a reenactment of being fifteen again, him rubbing my cunt through my jeans, squeezing my nipples, his hand inside my clothes, up my back, stroking the top of my bum...it made me smile, and then it made me giggle. He stopped kissing me and asked me what was so funny. When I told him, he laughed too , and then in a flash, he opened my jacket and pulled my top up, exposing my tits to the cold wind, to the outside world, to everything. The wind found the metal of the bars and seemed to freeze them instantly. "Bet this didn't happen when you were fifteen slave".

So there I was standing on the path my tits out  wondering what was going to happen next..........he grabbed one of my bars and led me towards the tree, pulling me hard by the nipple, he pushed me back against it, he unbuttoned my jeans..........very slowly, pulled then down around my ankles, turned me round, pulled off his belt and whooped me good and proper, the crack of the belt filled the air, the bark of the tree pressed into my flesh and my humiliation filled me............He kept at my arse with his belt for ever, or so it seemed and just when I was getting to the point when I couldn't bear it any more,  when I was beginning to think surely another walker would appear round the bend and he was too intent of my arse and wouldn't see them, he turned me around again, and told me to pull up my jeans, not to do them up and to make myslef cum. But first I was to stick my fingers in my cunt and show him how wet they were.

Oh dear........a slight give away !

He stood back and said "Well my wanton harlot , off you go, make yourself cum" and within second I was begging him to cum, begging to be allowed to cum, and he let me. And there on the path, By the river, I came for my owner, with my tits out in the cold, exposed, vulnerable and trusting that he would keep me safe.

My legs were shaking, my heart was pounding and my head was somewhere completely different, I could feel the week sun on my face and that was it,  I didn't know if he was talking to me, i was unsure of what was happening. I felt him pull my top down, do up my jacket and jeans, turned my around and I felt his hand hold mine and he wrapped his arm around me, pulled me towards him and we  walked in silence back to to the pub.
As we walked in the door the heat from the fire hit me,  and brought me back to earth. The woman behind the bar looked at me and said......

"I see you have blown the cobwebs away then"

I am not sure that she understood why I blushed, laughed and muttered, "Yes thank you, it was a lovely walk".

He sat down, and I got us a drink.

We sat in silence for a while and then he said ..."Check your phone".

 I looked in my bag, he had, at some point in the day, turned it to silent, but there was a message on it..............
"Thank you slave, thank you for giving me your trust".

He put his hand in my bag and got the keys out, put them on the table and told me I had one hour to get back to the hotel, clean myself up and be ready for him.

I stood up, picked up my bag, put my phone in it again and waited for him to tell me to leave.....

"Tick tock slave, tick tock" . He smacked my arse and pointed at the door.

I walked a little sheepishly  towards the door, turned round to look back at him, and caught the eye of the woman behind the bar, and I could swear she winked at me.

Saturday, 19 February 2011

"Control slave, that's what it's all about"

After sleeping soundly next to him all night, I woke feeling happy and warm, even though I could see the cold light outside the window.
The morning was free for me and so he decided to make the most of it, to make the most of me and or time together.
I was allowed up to make him a cup of tea and to pee and then I had to return to the bed with the ropes, the vibrator and the clothes pegs, all of them, and  a pair of knickers.

I collected all the things as directed and stood at the end of the bed, waiting for permission to get back in, but he lay there, cup of tea in one hand, the end of my night time rope in the other and hummed a little tune to himself.

He drank his tea, indicted I should make him some more and that I was allowed one now he had been served, and so I stood and drank my tea while he watched the news.

"Control slave, that's what this is all about, about how I control you, your life, your body, your mind, your life itself"

And he is right, he does...its not micro management, it never has been and it can't be now, now I am away...but that's what it is,, its control.

He stood up and pointed to the floor. I knelt, as usual, at his feet and he bent down, and pulled the noose so it was tight, but not so tight it hurt and then pushed my head to the floor. He put his foot on the rope close to my face and I was pinned down, unable to move, just as simple as that, within seconds.........."Body, my slave, body"

He then got another rope and tied my ankles together, looping it round both feet, and securing it, he laid it over my back and left it there. I waited for more, but for a while nothing happened and then he lifted his foot and told me to sit up. I knelt up, and he removed my night rope and wrapped the new rope around my neck, so it fell between my tits and collected in a coil on the floor in front of me."Stand up slowly slave or you will choke yourself"

 I stood slowly, and could feel the rope sliding around my neck, he told me to bend my knees a little and then he pulled the rope tight around my neck and warned me not to move. He sat on the bed in front of me and positioned the rope in my cunt right on my clit and pulled it roughly upwards and back round my neck again and then tied it off by my ankles
So I am standing there; knees bent, the rope tight around my neck, it pulling onto my clit and he mouths to me "Control".
His hands reach for the pegs and he begins to attach them, first to my ear, one on each lobe, one on each nipple, which he spring shut on and it makes me yelp, so the next to go on my lips to keep then closed to keep me quiet. He then put two on each cunt lip and five more on each tits. and he get out his camera, and he takes photos of my nipples squashed flat between the pegs,  he takes a picture of my cunt with the rope forced deep into it, the pegs pulling my lips down, he takes a photo of my lips closed shut by the pegs.
I stand there and he says  "Pain or pleasure slave what would you like?"

It was just as well I had the pegs on my lips, or I would have been in trouble, did he not know how painful those horrid pegs he insists on using are? Did he not realise ?

Silly question of course he did, he laughed at me and said, Tthink before you speak slave, pleasure always has a price"

He removed the pegs from my lips, kissed me and watched as I turned over in my mind the options he had given me. He knows how hard I find it when he gives me a choice..."Control slave...... of your mind."

And so I asked for pleasure, I don't like pain, I like that he likes pain, I like the fact I have no choice when he hurts me , I like that I have to submit to his wishes , that I am not allowed to say no, but generally I don't like the pain per se.

So standing there slightly bent, in pain, waiting for my pleasure I knew who had all the control. My hands were untied, but there was no way I would ever move them until he told me to...and then he did.
"Make yourself come for me slave, play with your cunt, "

This was easier said than done, the pain from the pegs, the rope digging deeper into my clit every time I moved, the pegs on my nipples biting deep, just as I felt I was beginning to get somewhere, that I was going to cum he stopped me.

He took off all the pegs and told me to start again. the pain as the blood flowed back into my squished flesh sent me over the edge and I started to cum, but as I came, I moved and the rope tightened around my neck, tightened in my cunt, pulling tighter and tighter, biting into me, stopping my breath.

He stood in front of me and commanded me to cum, to let go, cum for his pleasure, not mine, and as I felt the rope bite in futher to my neck, he reached forward and lifted me onto the bed, letting the airflow back into me, letting me breathe.
  I exploded, every time I straightened my body the air stopped and he bent my legs behind me to allow me to breath, and he lent down close to my ear and said to me.................
"Control slave, your mind tells you one thing, your body tells you another, but you do as I say, that is my control"
 And he untied the rope and freed my ankles, gently pulled it from my cunt, open my cunt with his fingers and made me cum again

Will I ever be able to ask for the knife?

I did think about what aisha  said about enough being said about the knife, and oatmeal girl's comments made me think maybe I should just leave it at that, but at some point I have to face this knife "thing" and decided that maybe here was a the place to begin.

I know he has a knife, I know he has a few, not a great big collection, just a few.

He knows about my past, he knows all about previous things that have happened to me, he tries to get inside my head, to probe and poke, to explore and expose everything, so there is nothing hidden.....and mostly he has done that. There are a few dark corners where things are hidden, not necessarily from him, but maybe more from myself, and there lurking in one of those corners lives a knife.

Its not my owner's knife.....but a knife from long time ago, from a different life, when I was not the woman I am today, but from a time that began to make me who I am.

The knife belonged to my partner, well it belonged to me actually, it belonged in my knife set on the side in the kitchen, but when he picked it up and put it to my throat, it belonged to him...............when he placed the edge of the knife under my chin and began to push...........it belonged to him, when he held me over a bowl of boiling water and the knife was the alternative it belonged to him When he threw it on the floor  and stumbled out of the room it once again belonged to me.

When I moved the knives , and put them away, they belonged to me............but when he came home in a drunken temper or when he was angry with something he thought I may have done, if i was late,or the dinner wasn't to his liking, there were times when the knife became his again............and he would threaten to cut my throat, to do the same to the children, to cut my face so no one else would want me,to hurt me with the knife.

So this is why the knife stays in the dark corner in my mind............hidden and away.........

So the first time my owner got the knife out, I thought I would die, not in a good way, but I really thought I might die, like I had so many times before, when there had been a real possibility.

I was mesmerized by the knife, not wanting to look but fearing that if I took my eyes off it for one second I would not know where it was, I fought to retain some control over myself, he called me, he touched me and I shrank further into the corner, in the end he called me by my given name and told me the knife was going away, he would not be using it, it was gone.

And strange as that may seem, it was easier to be like that, to feel something, than to be so resigned to my fate as I had been in the past;  that I had actually got to the point where I no longer cared if my ex carried through with one of his threats to me , because it was easier than living with the constant fear and uncertainty. 

So feeling scared, being allowed to be scared was good...........it was a relief.  When I calmed down, when he held me, wiped away my tears, held me more so I couldn't move and inch, when he told me to breathe, when he put his hands round my neck and controlled each breath until I was calm, when he got the stories out of me, and he understood more about me and my reaction, when some ghosts were laid,
I remember how I felt, I felt like I had let him down, along with all the other feelings, that is how I felt. It was not something he made me feel, and he told me I wasn't to feel it.

I know he has a knife, I don't know where he keeps it.

Sometimes he gets one out and lays it on the table beside the bed.........sometimes it is on the floor, it is in its case, sometimes it is on the bed.................and then I get jumpy, it still makes me cry. He has got it out of the case and shown me and that makes me cry..........not hysterically any more but it makes me cry.
Occasionally he runs it over my body, in its case,but he has promised me that he will not take it out and run it over me until I ask him.
And will I ever ask him?

I don't know. I would love to be able to........................its not a trust issue, its a little black hole in my soul issue.

Friday, 18 February 2011

Thursday, 17 February 2011

Its not all about the control, sex and submission

We went out for dinner that night, he let me choose and I chose Chinese. It was a long drive in the dark, which he did, although he did make me get out in the freezing cold and fill the car with petrol muttering something about "Why do it when your slave will do it for you?", although he turned the seat heater on while I was outside, which was a surprise and a treat.

The restaurant was lovely, small cubicles, subtle lighting and gentle music in the background. The service was wonderful, discreet and unobtrusive. He made me sit next to him, our legs touching, the heat from his body warming me, exciting me...............oh how I wanted to touch him, to stroke his leg...............he took my hand, and held it in his, he looked at me and told me how much he had missed me, how proud he is of me, and how much he loves me. He held it so long, and then pulled it towards his chest, and put it on his heart, put his hand over mine and sighed........I thought I would burst with happiness, and then he put his hand over my heart and my nipples sprang to attention ..........................he roared with laughter, great big laughs,  and he hugged me so tightly I thought I would shoot out of my dress.

He was, as always, useless with the chopsticks and I tried not to laugh, not to gloat as I effortlessly ate the delicious food..................in the end he made me feed him,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, and when he couldn't  eat any more for laughing, he resorted to a fork...which just made me laugh more.

The wine flowed, in my direction,  I got giggly, he laughed at me, at my falling over my own words as I talked to him.
He told me bad jokes, we talked about "stuff", he told me I had beautiful eyes, and how much he misses looking into them when he kisses me, when he uses me, when he hurts me, he misses seeing them full of love, of pain, of happiness...................he stroked my hair, and held my hand under the table.

When we drove back on the starlit frosty night, he drove with one hand on my bare thigh, gently stroking it, and when we got back, I striped and passed him my rope which he put around my neck and sat me on his knee and he held me tight.

He gently caressed me, teasing my nipples, kissing me, putting his hands around my neck, gently, pressing, a promise of things to come..................................
He left me on  dozing on the bed while he got ready to sleep and when he returned I asked him if I could please sleep at his feet that night.

So he lay on the bed, he never seems to feel the cold, although to be fair the room as probably about 26 degrees, and I kissed his feet and wished him goodnight and we fell asleep together. An owner  with his slave sleeping at his feet.

I woke a few hours later, cold, shivering and chilled to the bone. He felt me move and tugged on the rope, I crawled up the bed and asked to be allowed back in.

 He pulled the covers over us and told me to sleep as he pulled me close and wrapped my rope around his hand.

 I slept.

Opening my mouth and landing myself in deep trouble.

You know that moment when you have opened your mouth, said something, and then wished you hadnt?


And there it was hanging in the air, that sentence"What do I need Sir? Oh Sir I need to cum."
And the moment I said it .................... I almost wished I hadn't.

"Need or want slave, do you ever really NEED to cum?"

And here is where the debate started in my head.......yes, no, yes, well maybe, I think I do, yes I do.....well maybe it is only a want...no its a 'need', oh no...oh shit i'm not sure now.

He was watching me intently, studying my face, smiling at me...

"Tough one huh slave?"
"Oh yes Sir....I think I might need to come Sir, I know I definitely WANT to"

So my fate was sealed.......................................

"Ill tell you what slave, I will let you cum and then you can tell me if it is what you needed. Open your legs and show me how wet your cunt is now"

Well, you only have to talk about cumming and my cunt gets wet, after days of him using me, teasing me, and controlling me, making me feel so submissive, not letting me ,hardly at all really, in the greater scheme of things, I was ready for anything, anytime...I was desperate.

"Oh slave, I think you do want to cum, and so he rammed fingers in there, several fingers........... and did his stuff. I was soon pushing back as hard as I could, and came quickly all over his hand. He then began to rub and squeeze, pinch and flick my clit, and once again I was cumming, making a nice wet patch on the bed.

Mmmmmm this was good....very good, lucky slave....kind Sir.


He started again, he made me cum again, and again and again, over and over and over again, until I was begging him to stop, trying to get away from his hands; his rough, probing , poking, scratching hands,flicking, pinching hands.....trying to hide my sore and raw cunt from him.

Every time I pulled away......he slapped me...he growled at me, and fixed me with the"owner stare".....................if i flinched he slapped me, so I stopped flinching, I stopped moving and I lay there.

In the end, all fight left me, all thought of moving went....... I lay there, with my legs held wide open with my hand on my knees and him kneeling between them on the bed, fucking my cunt again with his fingers.........and I really felt I could cum no more, but he pushed me, telling me to obey, to submit to him, to cum...........and I did

"You want to cum again slave?", he asked me, his hand on my cunt.

"No thank you Sir......."
"I think you need to though slave,  then you will know what is the difference is. You think you want something, but I know what you need. You get from me what you need, not what you want."

And one final time, his hand reached towards my cunt, and he slid a large vibrator inside me and began to attack my clit with his fingers.

"Needs not wants slave,"............. and he took my hand and put it on the vibrator and he turned his camera towards my cunt and began to film me fucking myself with the vibrator until I had once more cum for him.

Wednesday, 16 February 2011

Owned from the top of my head to the tip of my toes

Work was finally finished and after going out for a drink, where I was instructed that I was to sit quietly, not speaking unless I was spoken to, where I was not to raise my eyes other than when I was replying to him, and then I was only to look at him.

Where he made me describe in fine details how I had felt in the cupboard, to describe how it felt with my hand tied in my cunt, and what I had learnt.
By the time I had finished, my drink was barely touched, my face was bright red and my cunt was wet again.

He told me that when we returned to the room I was to strip and wait for him in the bathroom. I went up the stairs, opened the door, turned the heat up and quickly removed my clothes and put them away as my untidiness drives him mad;he notices even the slightest thing out of place.
I went into the bathroom, and sat on the edge of the bath. It felt cold on my arse, soothing almost where it was sore from his previous efforts. I stood and waited, I wandered round a bit, making things straight, folding and hanging towels again...and I waited.

I heard him open the door and enter the room, but the bathroom door stayed firmly closed. I heard the wardrobe door open and my heat sank a little, but it quickly closed again, followed soon after by his appearance in the doorway.

I was standing up, my hands by my side, unsure of what I was to do.
He lifted the bag he had retrieved from his case in the wardrobe and opened it. There was a large pair of scissors, a razor some shaving foam and a new bar of soap.

He has told me before at some point he will shave my head, that he will show me just how he controls every aspect of my life, including how I look to the outside world. I looked at his face, looked back at the items he was laying on the vanity...."You look like a startled rabbit my slave,You have always known this is a possibility".

This is something I have often thought of , and a part of me has wanted it, but the reality of it is something that has frightened me, worried me about how I explain it to others and I have voiced this to my owner and his response has always been "You only have to worry about what I think slave" and whilst I know this to be true, it is not an easy thing to accept.

"The thing you sometimes forget my slave, especially since you have been away is that I am still the person who controls you, your life. I own you, from the top of your head to the tip of your toes, and whatever it is I want to do, I can and will do"

And with those words he reached behind me and picked up my pony tail and pulled it upwards, slowly, very slowly, lifting it higher and higher, until my chin was on my chest and I was on the very tips of my toes...."You see from head to toe, slave, head to toe"

And he let go.

I stood very still, hoping that if I stood still I would disappear, that he wouldn't be able to see me, that he would become distracted and forget his intention.I felt  his hand on my shoulder and he pushed me to my knees.
"Bend over slave," and with that he removed the butt plug that had been in there for what seemed like a lifetime.
Once more he grabbed the pony tail and with his foot on the back of my neck he pulled and twisted it, till tears fell onto the floor and I felt he would pull the scalp from my head.  Removing his foot, he pulled me to my feet and stood me up again and picked up the scissors with the other hand.

"Take my cock in your mouth slave"
 And with hands that were shaking so much I don't know how I managed to release his hard cock from his underwear and I placed my lips round it; leaving it in my mouth not sucking, not moving, and he pushed it in further, to the point just before it makes me gag.

 This was the moment .....this was when it was going to start...this was a moment of such intense control, such a moment of submission  that although I was not happy that i was going to loose my hair I began to float away...................he pushed his cock further in, making me gag, bringing me back................

"So my little naked kneeling slave, with her mouth full of her owners cock...what should we do..?

Well to that there really was no answer.

I expected to hear the snip of the scissors, to feel the release of his hand on my head, to see my hair fall to the floor.
Instead he pulled my mouth from his cock, pulled my hair from the pony tail, twisted his hand deep into my hair and twisted .

He turned me round and pushed me towards the bath........................
He lent me over the bath, so my head was almost at the bottom of the bath, pulled my legs open and rammed, as hard as he could, his cock into my cunt. This was the cunt that had had my hand in it for hours, the cunt that had been smacked, and hit with the crop, the cunt that had  longed for him, for his cock, and he rammed it in,  hard, over and over again, driving my hips into the edge of the bath, reaching forward and twisting my tits against the side of the bath, leaning on to them, to keep me still.
 He pulled his cock back and as I expected it to ram again inside my dripping cunt, instead he pushed it slowly and relentlessly into my arse.

With three or four more thrust I felt him shoot his load inside me and remove his cock.

My cunt was desperate for more, wanted him, wanted to be filled with him, but not this time.
He reached over and pulled me gently up, sitting me on the side of the bath, kissing my reddened tits, slipping his hand towards my cunt and once more playing with, pinching my clit....

"You see slave, every inch, from head to toe and all the inches in between.....are mine."

And with that he turned on the shower, made it warm, picked me up , put me into the bath and then began to wash my hair; gently massaging my sore scalp, he washed my body, gently caressing me, lovingly touching me.
I sat on the edge of the bath with my legs wide open while he shave my cunt, finding those few stray  hairs I had missed, rinsing the soap from me, by gently squeezing a towel over my sore and used cunt, then wrapping me in a towel,  he brushed my hair, laid me on the bed and told me to sleep.

I have never felt so owned.

Tuesday, 15 February 2011

In the cupboard licking my fingers clean

The next morning he was busy, preparing some work on the laptop, I had a free morning, I was not expected anywhere, no meeting, no training, nothing, just some free time.

So there I was at a loose end.....................in the past I have been good at entertaing myself when he is busy, keeping quiet, keeping still, becoming invisible until he wants something....but months and months apart have erode this skill somewhat ...................I tried..........I was sitting on the floor, on the end of my rope, it loosely round my neck, the other end tucked under his bum........and I was reading a magazine, which was, in itself, a real treat.

However, I got bored and felt lonely, a few sighs, a bit of wriggling, a few more sighs, a raised eyebrow from him and a tut. I asked him a couple of questions about something I read, asking his opinion, he half halfheartedly answered me, so I went back to the magazine and read a bit more..........but somewhere alone the line, and I know I wanted his attention. I know I was bored and wanted to talk to him, but I also knew he was busy and that when he is working I should not disturb him. I could have asked to go out, to go for a walk, but I didn't...............I huffed and puffed just once too often and muttered under my breath about being bored.

Bad move.

He very deliberately closed the lid of the laptop, turned towards me and put his finger under my chin. tilting it up so I would look at him..."Is my slave bored?" and like some foolish child, I answered "Oh yes Sir, I am ...I'm bored". 

There after followed a very curt lecture about boredom, intellectual capacity, use of my brain, bad manners and about how I was not thinking about his needs first and was putting what I wanted and thought I needed above what he wanted.

I was shamefaced. I knew he was right, I also knew that this piece of work was important, with a tight deadline and I should know better.

I was sent to the toy bag, which confused me, as I knew there wouldn't be a reward in there for that behaviour.........................he told me to bend over the bed,I felt the coldness of the lube on my arse, his fingers spreading it and then he shoved the plug deep into my hole. I gasped as it filled me and he slapped me, slapped my arse, slapped the tops of my legs and then pulled me up by my hair.

"Still bored slave?"

 Now if I answered yes it would not be the truth because I had what I had wanted...some attention, his attention. If I answered no....it would be as if i felt as I had got what i wanted..........so I kept quiet.....


I opened my mouth to apologise for my behaviour and he, quick as a flash stuffed his fingers into my mouth, pulled me close and informed me, "You will be quiet while I am working, you will NOT disturb me and when I decide you need some attention then I will give it to you, until then I DONT want to hear you"

 He reached down to the bed and got my bra, and using it as a gag, tied it tight around my mouth.

 The rope came off my neck and was tied round one hand. He opened the wardrobe door, and there insdie was the hotel ironing board and iron, his suits  and one of his overnight bags. He removed the bag, pushed the suits across and indicated for me to step inside. He looped the rope over the rail and told me to sit down. I sat in the corner looking out at him, sielntly pleading with him not to do it, but knowing that it was going to happen. My arem was by my side, resting on my lap, but I could see the rope looped over the rail and the other end in his hand.

"If i hear you slave, I will tighten the rope till your arm is raised and every time I hear you I will pull it more, do you understand?"

" I nodded and said a muffled "yes Sir.".

"Now put your fingers from your free hand in your cunt."

 And he tied my hand there, the rope wrapped round my thigh, holding my hand in position.
He looked down at me, fixing me with his eyes "This is where I keep the things I don't need at the moment, this is where they stay until I need them, until I am ready to use them." and with that he pulled the suits into the space and slowly closed the door.

I knew the light would I go off and I would be left in darkness, left in the cupboard.

And it did, the light went off and I anticipated the dark. I hate the dark, which is why I hate the hood, I closed my eyes, which sounds silly for someone who hates the dark, but at least I was in control of it. What if I opened my eyes and there was no light? What if it was completely dark?

 Slowly, hearing my breathing, I opened my eyes and there was light, not much, but a slice of pale light under the door, and there was sound. the sound of my breathing, so I held my breath. I didn't want him to hear me, to come and raise the rope.

Slowly letting my breath out I realised I could hear him typing, I could hear his pen and the vibration of his phone when he got a text.

 Slowly I calmed down, thinking about what was good in the cupboard. I could smell him on his suits, the leg of one was against my sore nipples, brushing against it. I was safe in the cupboard, not very happy but safe.
The plug in my asre was sore and the rope around my thigh was cutting into my flesh a little and I shifted to try and get more comfortable and I heard him clear his throat..............so I stopped.

Time seemed to hang.

My fingers in my cunt, a reminder of what I am, what I am used for.

His phone rang, and I heard him talking to a colleague about this case. Normally I am not allowed to listen, normally he indicates for me to leave the room, or plug in my earphones, or he takes the call somewhere else, but this time he just continued talking and then I heard him agree to meet for lunch. Saying that this was important and he had nothing else on at the moment that was as important, and of course he could meet.

He talked a bit more, and then returned to working.

I sat waiting for him to open the door and it didn't happen, I waited  and it still didn't happen, I had no idea of the time. I heard him use the shower, moving around the room.
He finally opened the door and his hand reached inside the cupboard..................and he removed a clean shirt and the suit that was closest to me and closed the door again.

I felt completely ignored, insignificant............ desolate.

 I heard him gather his things, putting items in his briefcase, Iheard the zip of his laptop bag and then the door opened once more. His hand reached in and I was  hopefully expecting him to reach down and pull me up, but instead he reached down and put a bottle of water next to me and an apple. He showed me the end of the rope was loose on the floor on the inside of the cupboard, straightened his suits, and closed the door.

 And he left.

And then there was no noise........no typing, not phone, no pen on paper noises...nothing
Just me in the cupboard with his suits and the iron and ironing board.

That was it...............nothing more, nothing less.

I knew I couldn't get up, my arm tied to my leg, my fingers inside my cunt still, I knew I wasn't allowed to get up, or open the door or leave the cupboard................I knew i was allowed to drink the water, which he had left open, and I knew I was allowed to eat the apple.......................but nothing more.

I closed my eyes and lent against the wall, holding the leg of one of his suits in my spare hand, not wanting the water, or the apple, although I knew I was expected to eat it, that the water was to be drunk................I only wanted one thing............................I wanted him, my owner.

 I sat and cried in the darkness at the unfairness of it all, at his meanness, how he was reducing the time we had together. I cried at my humiliation of being tied in the cupboard with my fingers stuck in my wet cunt, I cried for the months apart , the times we hadn't been able to talk. I cried because I hadn't got my way and now he had gone and left me.
Finally I stopped crying and it slowly dawned on me.............................that it wasn't about what I wanted, what I thought I needed.......that it was about what he wanted, and that I was and am there for him, and that as I sat in that cupboard I was just another thing he owned, like the suits, to be used when he was ready, like the ironing board, to be got out when he needed me.

I was wrong to have made the fuss, demanding his attention, however subtly I thought I had done it. If I needed something I should have asked, like he has taught me, instead I hadn't, I had put my needs above his, it had not even been a need, just a want, me wanting attention I had demanded from him and I was wrong.

I waited in the cupboard, in the dark, thinking about my owner and how i would behave when he came back.
When I heard him return I stayed very still and very quiet. He didnt rush to open the door, I heard his computer again, heard him call a friend about a meeting next week, heard him make a drink for himself and I smelt the smell of tea................ and then the door opened slowly.

This time I smiled at him, around my gag, and he smiled back.

"I see you have learned you lesson." He lent down and untied the rope around my leg and nodded towards my cunt.
"Lick your fingers clean slave." So I sat in the cupboard,  licking my cunt juice from my fingers, smiling at him.
He pulled me up, sent me to the toilet with a smack on the arse and when I returned he indicated to the place I had been sitting hours before. My magazine was still there.

I sat at his feet, he turned to his computer, patted my head, said quietly "I heard you hold your breath slave. "He looked  down at me, pinched my nipple and said  "Don't ever forget what you are and what you are here for slave", patted me again and continued working.

This time I sat still and quiet and content to wait.

Monday, 14 February 2011

Exposed and learning to accept what I am given

He took the new rope from my hands, and tied a noose at one end.

I watched him, this was the noose knot he once gave me a remote lesson on how to tie by typing instructions only to have me falling about laughing at my inability to do it, but this time I was not laughing. I was mesmerised by his fingers tying the knot, turning the new rope over in his hands, and fell very still.
He stood and walked behind me, placed the rope over my wrists and pulled it tight, , wrapping the rope between my hands, checking how tight it was.

He led me to the bed and laid me face down, pulled the rope up my back, wrapped it once round my neck, tied my feet behind me and then once more round my neck.

He returned to the chair and sat there, not moving, not speaking, just sitting and looking, watching me studying me. My face was turned towards him and I could no longer look directly at him.

I was helpless, completely at his mercy, unable to move.

He stood, walked towards the bed, never taking his eyes off my face, I sensed this rather than saw it. He rolled me over so I was on my back and now I was completely vulnerable, completely exposed.

He reached into his bag and took from it his favourite crop, the one we had bought together one sunny day last year, one he had made me carry through the shopping mall, in my hand, my face red with shame.

He laid the crop on the bed beside me.
He took the hood from the bag and laid it next to my head.
I closed my eyes and I heard the sound of him undoing his belt.
My eyes shot open.
He laid the belt across my stomach.

His hand reached towards my breasts, and he slapped them, hard, he pinched he pulled, he twisted, he flicked, he pulled some more.

He lent down and I felt his hot breath on them, his lips closing over my nipples, his tongue licking, sucking, while his hand squeezed and pinched and twisted the other one. he swapped between the two.

The pleasure of his tongue, his kisses followed by the pain and torment of his fingers.

He picked up the belt and moved it.

He picked up the crop.

He began tracing the end of the crop over my nipples; teasing them, tapping gently, down my thighs , up the inside of each leg till I almost longer to feel it on my wet and now desperate cunt.

I closed my eyes and let the feelings of vulnerability of openness flood over me, fill me with happiness.


He brought the crop down over one tit.
and again over the other.
I struggled, the rope tightening round my neck, realizing that his hand held the other end, I knew that he could feel exactly how tight it was, he was watching , looking and checking.

Again and again I watched him raise the crop, again and again I felt it crash into me; biting pain, hot searing pain, head filling, crying sobbing pain.
The rope around my neck felt tight, I began to panic I bit, i tried to tell him it was too tight, he looked and shook his head. I had to focus on being calm, not fighting,...on accepting what he was giving me, accepting the pain from him, accepting ...........

I remember him putting the crop between my teeth as he picked up his belt. I watched him hold the buckle and wrap it round his hand
 I remember the noise, the crack it made as he pulled it.......... and I remember the first time it hit me...................and I remember watching his arm, not the belt, just his arm.......................

His hands gently lifted my head and unwound the rope from my neck, I felt his hands on mine as he untied the knots, his arms as he carefully moved my arms to my sides and as he lifted me from the bed, and wrapped my favourite blanket from home around me. He wiped the tears from my eyes, kissed them away, he told me he loved me, he told me I was a good girl, that he was proud of me.

He held me close, talking about what he had done to me: about the rope, how he had tied it, how it looked behind my back.  He described how the crop had marked me across my stomach, my tits, how my thighs were marked by the crop and the belt,  he talked to me about how my cunt had dripped after he had used the crop on it and the belt. He talked about how I had cried out, moaned and whimpered, how he had watched me struggle and how I had fallen silent, by body open to him, my cunt exposed, my nipples hard and erect, and how I had become still............... and how I had accepted what he had given me.

He touched me so gentley where he had hurt me, kissing each welt, slowly undoing the blanket, laying me out once more on the bed.

His fingers tracing along the marks he had made, his fingers exploring my cunt , probing, thrusting, opening, and this time allowing me to feel pleasure, holding me on the edge of orgasm, and once more he wrapped me in his arms, and held me tight as he made me cum......a deep, all encompassing, all over body and mind , flashing lights, music in the ears orgasm.

I had a complete overwhelming submissive feeling come over me and begged to be allowed to be at his feet once more, so smiling me released me from his arms and more or less poured me onto the floor, he covered me with my blanket and there I drifted off to sleep, wrapped around his feet, holding onto his leg, my hand inside his jeans touching him, while he finished some work.

When I woke a few hours later, he once more put my rope on, took the other end in his hand, and pulled me into bed, and there we fell asleep...................... together .........me on the end of his rope .......... where I belong...