We talked this morning, well he talked and I cried. He talked some more and I cried some more.
He has read my email, and he has talked about being ill, about the stroke and how when he was all alone in that white room, he was frightened, how he thought about what would happen if he died........and he was scared.
He has left a letter with his brother, telling him what to do if I am not home, about getting me home and all the stuff that follows.
He told me that he had not given me 100% of the information that he had had, because he didn't
want to worry me.......he still doesn't understand the more information I have the less worried I am, but its a start.
I think he read my email, and I think he feels that he has read it carefully enough to be able to glean all the information he needs from it............but I suppose men and women speak different languages................I tried to be open and up front, but I guess some of the unspoken things, some of the things written "between the lines" that would have been picked up by a woman, have been missed.
Maybe its my fault for not making myself clearer, maybe I should have made sure that this morning I made it clear, or maybe I just expect too much.
Or maybe it is the case, that he has read and understood perfectly and decided to do things he was he thinks is right, to give me what he thinks is best for me. He told me that he is not angry with me at all, and he is doing what he believes is best. I tried to suggest that maybe it was a good time, to just step back, to back off, to give him and his wiring some time to straighten out the kinks, establish correct connections again, but he was adamant that this was not going to happen, that he needed to be in control, as much for his own benefit as for mine.
He reminded me that I am his, he owns me, and although he will listen to me, I have no choice.
And so that is where we stand.
I have given up banging my head against a wall.
I have given up trying to make him see...make him understand.
There is no more fight in me.
Showing posts with label owned. Show all posts
Showing posts with label owned. Show all posts
Sunday, 13 March 2011
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.
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.
Thursday, 20 January 2011
Perfect Day
I was stuck somewhere today, unable to get away and so I started thinking, not about anything in particular, just thinking . And I got to thinking about a perfect day.......what have been my perfect days? Which day in my life has been the most perfect? Why did I then develop this train of thought where I had to choose just one, when I have been so fortunate to have so many more than one.
Like a lot of people it doesn't take much to make me happy, it really doesn't. I don't need a great deal, I have no need for "things" to make me happy, no great desire for lots of money (although if anyone is throwing some away, I would take it off their hands), although I like the choices that spare money gives me.
The days in my life that have been perfect................?
The birth of my two beautiful children....they were both perfect days: hard work, emotional, one filled with pain, the other with uncertainty, but at the end of both I was lucky enough to hold a beautiful child in my arms and gaze at their scrumpled faces and feel overwhelming, all consuming love.
The bith of my grandchild...............watching my daughter in pain was not perfect, watching her fall peacefully,happily into an exhausted sleep just after she handed me her newly born child, and the first hour of the baby's life I spent holding her in my arms, watching the sunrise and talking to her, as she gazed unfocused at my face, listening to my voice, was the most perfect start to a perfect day.
A day spent, as a teenager, all day in the snow, sledging, snowballing and drinking hot chocolate, followed by an all night party, welcoming the New Year in with a bottle of champagne cooled in the snow...perfect.
A day spent on a sand bar in the middle of the Indian Ocean, swimming naked, floating around in crystal clear warm water ...the only sights.......the sun, the sea and the sand. The only sounds; very gentle waves lapping on the edge of the sandbar and the splash of dolphins leaping around less that 20m away. Swimming lazily to the edge of the reef and sinking slowly below the surface and looking in complete and utter awe at the teeming shoals of fish under my feet, and seeing a manta slowly "flying" through the water towards me................perfect.
A day spent with best friends, walking through a field of poppies, chasing the dog, lying beneath a cornflower blue sky, filled with singing skylarks, eating "doorstep" ham sandwiches, crunchy pink apples, strawberries warmed by the sun and drinking cold beer, lots of cold beer. Walking home hand in hand with tired, dusty children, red stained clothes and sun warmed skin......perfect.
The day I qualified...................I was so proud, that despite obstacles in my way, an indirect route ......I was there.
The day I was permitted to beg my owner to be allowed to serve him.............the day I was allowed to become his slave, to be owned, to give up all my rights, to submit completely to him.......... to be his..there is only one word.......perfect.
And what set me thinking about this list, which is not, by any means, the sum total of my perfect days?
Today is a perfect day...................today I was given my ticket home..................its not for long..............and its not "hone" home, but it is to the right hemisphere, to the right continent , even the right country...I have a ticket ...........I AM going home, and it is soon.......oh the very best of perfect days.
Like a lot of people it doesn't take much to make me happy, it really doesn't. I don't need a great deal, I have no need for "things" to make me happy, no great desire for lots of money (although if anyone is throwing some away, I would take it off their hands), although I like the choices that spare money gives me.
The days in my life that have been perfect................?
The birth of my two beautiful children....they were both perfect days: hard work, emotional, one filled with pain, the other with uncertainty, but at the end of both I was lucky enough to hold a beautiful child in my arms and gaze at their scrumpled faces and feel overwhelming, all consuming love.
The bith of my grandchild...............watching my daughter in pain was not perfect, watching her fall peacefully,happily into an exhausted sleep just after she handed me her newly born child, and the first hour of the baby's life I spent holding her in my arms, watching the sunrise and talking to her, as she gazed unfocused at my face, listening to my voice, was the most perfect start to a perfect day.
A day spent, as a teenager, all day in the snow, sledging, snowballing and drinking hot chocolate, followed by an all night party, welcoming the New Year in with a bottle of champagne cooled in the snow...perfect.
A day spent on a sand bar in the middle of the Indian Ocean, swimming naked, floating around in crystal clear warm water ...the only sights.......the sun, the sea and the sand. The only sounds; very gentle waves lapping on the edge of the sandbar and the splash of dolphins leaping around less that 20m away. Swimming lazily to the edge of the reef and sinking slowly below the surface and looking in complete and utter awe at the teeming shoals of fish under my feet, and seeing a manta slowly "flying" through the water towards me................perfect.
A day spent with best friends, walking through a field of poppies, chasing the dog, lying beneath a cornflower blue sky, filled with singing skylarks, eating "doorstep" ham sandwiches, crunchy pink apples, strawberries warmed by the sun and drinking cold beer, lots of cold beer. Walking home hand in hand with tired, dusty children, red stained clothes and sun warmed skin......perfect.
The day I qualified...................I was so proud, that despite obstacles in my way, an indirect route ......I was there.
The day I was permitted to beg my owner to be allowed to serve him.............the day I was allowed to become his slave, to be owned, to give up all my rights, to submit completely to him.......... to be his..there is only one word.......perfect.
And what set me thinking about this list, which is not, by any means, the sum total of my perfect days?
Today is a perfect day...................today I was given my ticket home..................its not for long..............and its not "hone" home, but it is to the right hemisphere, to the right continent , even the right country...I have a ticket ...........I AM going home, and it is soon.......oh the very best of perfect days.
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