This week has two Fridays

This morning I had been ordered  to wake up at 4.30...so I did.

We talked for a bit and I did my morning rituals for him and then he sent me to the shower, as normal. It must have been at that moment a look  passed over my face. Its these sorts of things that irritate him. He feels by pulling a face I am questioning his authority, or disputing that he has the right to do as he pleases. It must have only been a small look, maybe just a quick roll of the eyes, because he asked if I had something on my mind. If it had been a big look, I would have been facing the wall so fast my feet wouldnt have touched the ground.
Well, what had been going through my mind was...."You bastard, you know I am tired, you make me wake up at 4.30 am and talk to you and be pleasant, its dark and I want to sleep, I was looking forward to still being in bed at 6am and you make me wake up at 4.30 am...you bastard"
Now, did I say this?..................... No I didnt................. Should I have said this?............ Maybe I should.
Instead I said in my best slavey response......."Sir, have you remembered its Saturday?"

"Its Friday".

Now being completely stupid and still half asleep I replied......"Sir , it IS Saturday".

"No slave, its Friday, Get in the shower".

And so muttering under my breath about injustice and unfairness, I showered as he watched. I washed my hair as he watched, shaved  my cunt as he watched. As always did everything as he watched me. I then knelt on the floor waiting for him to decide what would happen. I was  silently hoping he would let me go back to sleep for a while, although I am never allowed to sleep in late.

No chance.

"It looks like we have some time to spare this lovely Friday morning.

And he spoke to me about how he was looking forward to the time I am home with him, About how he looks forward to having me in my place; naked at his feet on the end of his rope. He spoke about how he will use my body, the body that belongs to him to use and abuse as he wishes. He spoke off how he is looking forward to having me stand against the wall, with the rope around my neck, and tied, so if I move it will tighten , and how he will take his crop to my tits and hit me with it, how my nipples will feel the end of the crop over and over again and how I will stand still.

He spoke of how my body will look when he has finished with his whip and how when I am sobbing from pain I will be allowed to beg  to take his cock in my mouth and satisfy him.

He spoke of how he will bind my tits, how the rope will run between my legs holding my cunt open so he can use the crop on it and how I will thank him.
He spoke about how he owns me, my heart, my body, my life itself.

And somewhere in all of this I began to float off to that happy slave place. He smiled .

"You see, the control I have over you?"

My cunt was dripping, he made me show him, opening it for him to see, and I was smiling as he made me show him the trail of my juice dribbling down my leg.
He then had me get the cane he likes to use and cane my tits until they were swollen and red, marked all over, my nipples hard and painful, and then turn around and use it on my arse, counting each one as I did.

I know I cannot do it like he does, but after three hundred my arse was hot and sore and crisscrossed with marks, and he had me show him my cunt again.....this time I blushed.

The vibrator was turned on and as it vibrated against my cunt, my clit swelling, throbbing, I begged to be allowed to cum, but it was denied. He watched my face as I struggled to control myself.

"Now" he said.

And I felt my whole body shudder at the sound of his voice, my cunt tightening, pulsing  as I came, overwhelmed by passion, desire and most of all by my submission to him.

I knelt before him, sweat running beteen my tits, down my back, tendrils of hair stuck to my neck and I flaoted away..................I know he told me to climb on the bed, I know he told me to cum again for him, and I heard, far in the distance those words................"Good girl" and it filled me with an overriding feeling of happiness, that I knew I had pleased him, that he was happy.

He left me there for a while. I remember seeing the sunrise, the light quickly filling the room, I remember hearing the birds, but beyond that nothing else. I didn't fall asleep....... I lay there until I heard him call me to him, and I pulled myslef back, fighting the wish I had to stay there, in that bliss filled limbo, to do as he wanted and return to him.................I asked him what I should do...............and he asked what day is it .......my response?

"Friday Sir, its Friday".

He laughed, told me that I should remember this week, when I had two Fridays and he told me to go away and have breakfast and relax.

It has thrown me all day, because although I know its not Friday and I don't have to work this Saturday, I have been at a loss of what to do with my time.....a little reminder in control he called it.

My mind has been on him all day, which I think was his evil plan all along.

The thoughts I had today

Today I was by myself and it was wonderful.

I do like the company of other people. I also love sitting in a room surrounded by people, or watching people at airports, watching the ebb and flow,the purpose with which people move, the expressions on their faces, the myriad of emotions on display.

I like overhearing half conversations, either because it is "half a conversation", like overhearing a phone call, or just being able to hear snatches of a whole conversation; the interplay of words, expression , intonation and questioning.

I like being able to watch people talk when I can't hear them, watching their faces their body language and how they become part of their surroundings or are completely cocooned in their own private world.

I love the fact that it is like a snapshot of people's lives, a moment frozen in time, an distorted opinion of what and who they are that often bears no relation to reality.........that's what I like about it........its like a play, with an ever changing company of characters.

But today I was by myself....in my car. Isolated in my own little world, my own little environment where I get to control the temperature, the sounds I hear and even to a great extent the sights I see.

I was in control, there was no one but me. In my car is one of the places I think, so is the shower, and my favourite place is sitting on the beach gazing out at the ocean. I like the fact that its ever changing but also entirely predictable.

So today in the think that I was thinking, I thought about the year that I have had, the year we have had. How far I have come, how he has taught me, led and guided me. The level of his patience when I close down and find it hard to be as open as he demands.

I thought about how he has let me live the life I needed to lead, how he allowed me to leave when it was needed and how he has worked so hard to find the time, against all the odds to ensure that things remain the same. I have thought how he has supported me through some difficult times this year and how I know that the support will continue.

I thought about how he seems to instinctively know what it is I need and that sometimes he just does it and other times he makes me work it out, ask for it, beg for it and then thank him when he has finished.

I though about how he has beaten me, with his hand, his fist, canes, whips, crops, anything that he thinks will be effective, how I have dreaded it and how I have longed for it with every cell in my body, how my whole body has hurt and  how it has stopped my heart hurting.

I thought about how I have been bound and restrained; how there have been times when I haven't been able to move at all, how other times any movement will result in pain and discomfort. Other times I have had to ask before moving at all, and how many hours I have been at the end of his rope.

I thought of the times he has stroked my hair, allowed me to kneel at his feet, my head on his knee, how he has held me and comforted me, soothed me while I sobbed from pain, and how he has lifted me up and looked into my eyes and I have seen his happiness, his pleasure and his pride.

I thought of the times he has rammed his cock into me, forcing it down my throat till I gag and plead for breath, how he has pounded  into me until I am too sore to walk, and of the pleasure he gets from it, and how he allows me to cum, how I have to cum for him and being allowed to have his cock in my mouth and the pleasure I get from that.

I thought about he times he has humiliated me, made me feel less than nothing, just a thing for his amusement, a toy for his pleasure, for him to use and hurt for his own enjoyment and I have realised that this does not make me less than nothing, it makes me what I am, his slave.

I thought about when he has quietened me with a single look, made me still with a single word.

I thought about how he has enslaved my soul, my life and my heart and by doing so has set me free

I hate magnolia walls

I stopped waiting.

The sound of him signing in to the computer made me jump as I sat there waiting. His typed "Hello" gave nothing away. His inquiry into my day was polite and formal, therefore, so was my answer.

 He then started to probe into my brain like he does.

Why had I been behaving the way I had?
Why had I thought it would be ok if didn't do what I was meant to?
How could I forget to do something so embedded into my life, it should be as part of my day without conscious thought?
Why had I once again, got to a point,when he had had to ask what was wrong ,rather than me telling him?

At which point half of me wanted to slink under the floorboards with that gut wrenching feeling that you get when you know you have let your owner down, the one that makes everything wince and each word seems to lash at your heart and soul.................

But the other half of me wanted to shout"well I cant tell you how I am feeling if you are not here, if you talk for five minutes and send me to bed, how can I tell you anything if you are too busy to talk, if you are awake when I am asleep and asleep when I am awake, if you keep making me sleep?"

Which of course is not true at all, because all I had to do was send him an email telling him.....that was all and he would have done something............instead I let how I was feeling eat away inside me, till I felt like he was pulling away, till I felt that our connection was flickering like a unshaded light bulb in an empty house......................all I had to do was send an email.

So i didn't shout or scream or stamp my foot and complain about how I hate being away from him, or how hard it is, how much I miss him, or any of that.
I knelt and let his words wash over me, soothing me, caressing my heart.

And then he reminded me that I am for now and for ever his slave, his property to which he can do anything with, no matter how far away I am, or how disconnected I feel, how much I think something else is important, he is always the most important thing on my list.

He told me to get the red rope from the bag he gave me when I left. It feels smooth in my hands, sometimes I run it through my fingers when I am talking to him. I was instructed to tie knots along its length, 10cm apart , all the the way along, and then to make a rope bra, as tight as i could, to kneel and wait for him.

I saw him smile before he logged off, and my hands began to shake slightly as I tied the knots. Did I have to tie them 10 cm apart or should they be 10cm apart when there were tied? There is a difference. I tried to remember what he had said, and thought.....this is what he means about paying attention, about focusing on what he says, not half listening.  I decided that it was 10 cm between the knots and so I began to tie them all. It is hard to be certain they were 10cm apart but I guessed as best I could and then began to make the rope bra.

Pulling it tightly round my breasts, leaning into it and pulling feeling the knots beginning to dig in, knowing that if it was not tight enough for him then I would have to do it again. I know I can never do any of the rope work like he does, but I did try my hardest and when I was finally pleased with the results I knelt still, and waited for him.

He returned after about 10 more minutes with a cup of tea, and I had to show him every inch of the rope, he examined it closely, and then checked my slowly  darkening breasts, admiring the tightness of the skin, the straining of my nipples against the bars he inserted before I left.

The four pegs were placed on me, one of each nipple, one I couldn't  feel and one bit into me like the teeth of a doberman on crack. He smiled as I winced, he smiled as I wriggled to get comfortable with the pegs on my cunt.

And then I was sent to the wall to think about my behaviour.

I know I am not allowed to move when I am at the wall, I know it is important that I am comfortable when I get there so I remain still. Sometimes I close my eyes and rest my head against the cool of the wall, letting it fill my head.and I drift off.

"Open your eyes"

Io i stared at the magnolia paint, slowly at first the minutes ticked by, I can tell how long I am there by the number of cycles the air con goes through. I can tell, if I count seconds.

"Turn the air con off and stop counting"

Damn how does he know..................so I crawled across the room and got the air con control and turned it off. I faced the wall and stared at the magnolia paint.1 ....2....3....

"no counting and NO 13 times tables"
 so I ran through a few lists in my head......................jobs to do, shopping to get, paperwork to fill
 and when I had nothing left to think about ...........
I began to do as i was told.

I could feel the rope digging into me, ,the knots felt hot, like smouldering coals.........I felt hot.

and as my mind emptied, I did do as I was told, and I did think of him and what I should have done how I should have behaved, where I had let things slip.

and again I was sad. sad I had let him down

Sad I had not spoken up about how I was feeling
 And all the feelings that had begun to grow in me filled me, and poured from me as I began to cry.
He left me there staring at the magnolia paint until I was calmer, until my sobs had stopped, until my breathing returned to normal until I was still.
Once more I was still.................and he called me.

I returned to him  and knelt before him waiting for him to speak to me. I looked at the little clock on the side of the screen..........................more than an hour had passed since he first put me to the wall......I was surprised.

I cant really remember what he talked about exactly, I cant recall the words he used, but it was about control, about use and limits and his pleasure and my role in life. About being open , about trust.
I remember him saying that he can do whatever he likes to me
" Do 50 star jumps, 50 press ups and 50 sit ups, you have 5 minutes, if it takes you longer you will do it all again, and you will keep doing it until you do it in the time:"

The ropes and the knots in the rope bit into my skin, like sharp hot knives twisting and rubbing against the soft skin under my breasts, the tightness of  the rope against my swollen breast brought tears to my eyes, the pressure of gravity dragged on them making them feel heavy beyond belief , but I struggled , worked had and when I had finished I knelt as instructed with my legs closed tightly against the cunt pegs. tears filling my eyes, my chest heaving.

"Good girl".

I smiled at him, and he smiled back.

"Get your toy, and put it in, put the cam on your cunt and make yourself cum"
The mixture of pain and pleasure. Pain from the pegs and pleasure from the toy.........confused me, sent me spiraling away into some dark corner of my soul...........I tried to ask for permission to cum, I really did, the words were in my head. I am sure I sent the message to my lips, but nothing came out. and so as I came, without permission I was filled with pain, pleasure and slight uncertainty as to his reaction.

I lay on the bed, hot and sweaty, sore, bruised, a dripping cunt and a dreamy smile on my face.

"Undo the rope".

I started to undo the rope but I couldn't find the end. I began to panic, and then I lost the Internet connection.
I felt the panic rising in me , I searched , pulling at different bits, trying to find it, but I couldn't. I tried to calm myself, tried to breath, panic rising...............and then he came back.

Hearing his voice"Stop"

He began to talk to me like a child, like someone who has been lost; who is frightened. And following his instructions. I undid the rope.

He allowed me a drink, told me to eat a biscuit and told me to lie down.

And as I lay there, he told me how proud he was of me, how I am a good slave, how I do whatever he asks me, how he understands how hard it is for me, how he misses me and cant wait for me to be back at his feet, on the end of my rope, and how much I please him.
he told me to close my eyes...........................

Hours later when I woke up, he was still there, watching me, and again he told me to
"sleep my sweet slave" and I did.

Each ache soothed by knowing he was there.

I am his slave, my heart and soul and calm once more
.
.

"Nothing shows a man's character more than what he laughs at".

This morning I think he had his silly head on. Either that or there was nothing worth watching on the TV.I think the thought in his head was "What's the point of having a toy if you don't play with it?" He watches me when I sleep, and last night he knew, that as is so often the case, I was beset by weird and disturbing dreams. Nothing specifically scary,nothing conventionally scary, no monster, no ghosts or machete wielding madmen, just weird enough to keep me balanced on the edge of sleep, tossing and turning, moaning and crying out. Travelling round my big bed, till I woke up on the edge, just before I fell.

He allowed me to pee and then told me I had to sleep again.............and although I tried, I really did, it just would not come, and so for the next 60 minutes I lay with eyes closed, fidgeting until he allowed me to get up.

I could almost feel the change of tone, the change of mode as we continued to talk.....we had a spare half an hour......and so to pass the time.............he had me stand on one foot.................why is it so much easier when no one is watching....why does it become impossible when you are told "Don't move", and why does it become funny when you have to cum standing on one leg, not moving?

He chuckled.

Then he told me to kneel without putting my knees on the floor...took me a while to work out that meant squat.............................and then cum....................oh he laughed when I fell over as I was cumming It was not so much a fall , as a spectacular upending of his slave, onto her arse, with legs in the air and a silly look on her face as she did a beetle impression.

He laughed.

Then it was  "pull your nipples out by the bars, close your eyes, turn around 4 time"s ......and I failed. I wasn't facing in exactly the right direction,,,I was about 20 degrees off...hell I though I had done well....

I failed.

He laughed.

I started again....but this time I had to hop...................

Amazingly I was facing in the right direction...........

We both laughed.

And then I had to cum again........amazingly...this time I was lying down...and we laughed.I wanted to go back to sleep...no chance.

Who says being a slave is not fun?

The price of pleasure

Yesterday morning when we were talking, he reminded me that i hadn't cum for a week.............like I needed reminding! All week, I have been squirmy, hoping he would notice or at least wonder why.............well,yesterday he did. Either that or he just thought he might as well do something to stop me from yawning.

While I am away, it is difficult to do as he wants, not because I don't want to. If anything I want and need to even more, but it is difficult to hurt myself  with the intensity that he would............but ...............caning my cunt always hurts. But in the end I don't suppose it matters how much, just the fact that I do as I am told, when i am told is what is important. And the longer I am away, the more I realise this. It matters that I feel his control. It is the control I need, not the pain.
So cuming quickly, very quickly after the caning amused him. He laughed, chuckled to himself, fully aware that I could hear him.It wasn't from cruelty, just from amusement. Then I had to cum again....oh and again and this is all before 6am.
I was sent off to work with a smile on my face, a tender cunt..oh and instructions to cum  again before lunch.So maybe I am on a "cumfest" now.... or maybe not.

I didn't get a chance to post this on the day I wrote it, and I think I may have been right. Again last night, over and over again he made me cum, with the reminder that I am a slave, I have no rights, no control. His choice last night was to remind me that with pleasure comes a price, and today it was pain.  Pegs on cunt, a "gift" from him vibrating  inside me, my legs tightly closed and made to cum, wanting  to stop,, the pain filling me, flooding into my body,until I could focus on his words.  Listening to him  keeps me focused, simple things that make the thousands of miles that separates us at present disappear. Things that connect us while I cannot feel his hand.
I was happy to be allowed to sleep early, sent to bed with a sore cunt,a "good girl" ringing in my ears and a smile on my face as I fell asleep.

This morning, he knew I had to leave just after dawn, and so he had me wake early, go through the usual routine of the morning, and then again, he said I was to cum, but he continued talking. I knew where it was leading, and every so often I looked at the clock on my screen, and I know he knew what I was doing as he watches me like a hawk, and yet he talked and I listened and then I finally in the last minute before I had to leave he told me to cum for him, and then he told me I would be late!...don'tcha just love 'em.


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