A blog from a woman on a journey of discovery.

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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.....

"Well?"

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.

7 comments:

  1. O, that's incredibly hot, probably more so for me than it was for you. But how wonderful that moment is when you realize it's not about you. Why is that such a powerful experience? I just marvel at it...

    hugs,

    aisha

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  2. aisha...it was very sad and lonely in the cupboard...until I came to the realisation as to why I was there, but coming to that place where he wanted me to be was hot and by the time i was back at his feet again. I think i would have taken a vow of silence if he had told me to...in fact I would have done anything :)
    Thanks for the comment. Ive caught up on your blog too now:)
    HSxx

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  3. Your last two posts were so hot. You are a good writer and give such vivid descriptions and details of what he does to you that I felt I was watching you in the closet. Thanks for sharing your service to him and I can't wait to find out what he has planned for you in the future. Does it make you feel very submissive to realize you are just one more thing he owns? And does that realization make it easier to accept the fact that the lifestyle is all about what he wants and you serve him and provide what he wants.

    And thanks for commenting on my blog.

    FD

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  4. FD.... thank you for your kind comments, sometimes I feel there are a lot of "and thens" in my writing, but that is how it feels. My owner is very good at the timely reminder of what I am, and the feelings of submissiveness his actions engender, are overwhelming sometimes, which is when the realisation becomes most apparent what I am and how my life must be. It is also some of my happiest time.

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  5. Your last couple posts have been riveting! Wants/needs...sometimes hard to distinguish. I am encouraged to ask, politely, for my needs, something that i find hard to do. abby

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  6. wow hs, like FD i do love reading your blog. I felt so sorry for you in the cupboard, i can understand fully that you cried and then the realisation of what you should have been concentrating on the whole time. And again the joy i felt when when He came back and let you out, powerful stuff and writing hs.

    blossom xx

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  7. thanks blossom, he is an expert at mind fuck and control, which is just as well at the moment when I am so far away, and finding it very difficult, especially after having a week with him.
    HSxx

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