In this place, in "far away land", somethings are very similar and some things are very different. One of the things that is different is the concept of "a second wife".
One of my friend from here is a second wife. She is highly intelligent, a wonderful woman, well traveled and educated. She was a little wild in her early 20's when she was out of the country but nothing most of us haven't or didn't do. She is stunningly beautiful, with flawless skin, the most beatuiful deep brown eyes, long black hair, which she wears covered almost all of the time, and lips that just look so kissable.
Her mother died before she married and I think this had something to do with the position she is now in. She is a second wife. She is number two wife. Not as in get divorced and wife number two...she is the second of two current wives.
They live in separate houses, and he divides him time between the two of them. They both have children, although hers are a little younger and a lot smarter and doing better at school. She is happy to be the second wife most of the time, but when he is away and comes back and it is one of the other wife's days, then my friend finds it hard. She find sit difficult to be away from her husband and misses him, she sometimes finds it hard that she is the bottom of the pile.
Last week she told me she was pregnant again, my heart sank when I looked at her face, I planted a smile on my face and congratulated her, but my heart was heavy for her. She had mentioned last year that the first wife was having trouble having another baby and she had been told if she got pregnant, then she may well have to give the baby to the first wife to bring up. To me this seemed barbaric, how could she do that, how could a mother in law do that and how could a woman do that to another woman, to take her child from her. But in "far away land" , this is a common practice. You find families split, "adoptions" all over the place, children not knowing their sisters and borthers are in fact cousins, or distant relatives.
The thinking behind it being, that those parts of the family that can offer the most, provide the most, for the most, so you can see the logic, but how do you explain logic when your baby is going to be given to someone else.
Its not as if my friend is poor, or her husband.
I didn't mention it, and I' don't know if it will happen, maybe it wont. But her eyes were full of tears today and I asked her what was wrong
Last night she spent the evening filling in forms for her husband and wife number one, to apply for a mortgage for a bigger house for them, and she was supplying the names of HER aunt and uncle to act as guarantors. Meanwile she lives with her grandmother with her two children ....somehow it doent seem fair, somehow it doesnt seem right.
I know it is not my place to judge, to pass comment even, and I didn't. I hugged her, asked about her lovely children, told her we would have coffee later and went away.
I saw her later in the day, on her phone, looking at a text, and a slow silent tear flowed down her beautiful cheek and hung from her chin. She wiped it away with the back of her hand, sighed and finished reading the text. I made a noise and she looked up at me, and all I could see was pain.
She smiled a sad smile at me and got up to make the coffee.
Its not hard to be open minded, to respect other cultures and religions, but oh sometimes it is so hard to understand.
What price we pay for love?
Showing posts with label pain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pain. Show all posts
Tuesday, 28 June 2011
Thursday, 9 June 2011
I told him
Well...here goes....
I told him, I told him I was coming home, I told him and he was very happy, he was very happy to know I would be home with him.
And then he asked me when I found out and I told him...and there was an ear splitting silence over the airwaves.......complete........absolute.
"Why slave, why did you wait to tell me?"
And I just shrugged, because for the life of me I could not find the words to explain to him the myriad of feelings that have gone through my mind since I found out.
I tried to find the words to explain, and fumbled and mumbled until he sort of got an understanding.
He smiled at me, laughed gently and told me how happy he was.
I wanted to weep buckets, but I didn't.
Then things started to fall apart big time.
He was concerned that I was so tired, I have had a hard few days back at work and was just tired, extra work, extra pressure, just stuff and lots of nightmares and disturbed sleep. This is not new, but it is a bit worse at the moment. He has noticed that when he lessens the control they get worse, I sleep worse, its just not good.
We were talking, and I know I was looking worried, I know I was and he said, "Relax slave, its ok, we are are talking, nothing is going to happen"
Then he reassured me again, "I will say if we are going to do anything".
He asked me a few more questions, asked me how, on a scale of 1-8 I felt the level of control was at that moment.
My TENS unit goes 1-8
I told him it was 6, he asked me to clarify, which I did, and then he told me to get the unit and put it on my nipples and turn it on. I was shocked, he had said, he had ...but he just told me to do this out of the blue. It stayed there on 1, for a while and then he turned it up to 2, it hurt initially and then it was bearable.
Then it was turned up to 3 and it hurt, it fucking hurt, but more than the pain in my nipples and tits, it hurt me.
He told me to use my finger to play with myself. I was crying by now, I felt heart broken, I really did. I remember muttering under my breath, "You are just like the rest of them", but he didn't hear me, he just heard me crying and told me to turn it off. He talked to me for a while, I stopped crying, but I was so sad, I felt betrayed. I now had no words to say, nothing to tell him how I felt and so he sent me to bed, to sleep He stayed there. I know he stayed there because I peeped, and then I fell asleep.
He wasn't there when I woke at 2 am, or a 3am ,he wasn't there when I woke up crying at 4 am, but he was there when I woke at 5am and gave up trying to sleep. We talked. I was quiet, he was wondering, knowing I was hurting, but not why.
I went to work and pissed him off when I couldn't talk to him. In the end I wrote him and e mail, telling him how I had felt last night.
When he got it he called me, He is very upset by what I have said.
I told him I felt he had betrayed my trust, that last night I had felt he was "like the others ".
I know he can do what he likes, when he likes, how he likes. But he specifically said to me not to worry, that nothing would happen unless he told me it would and then it did.
He told me that he will talk to me later when he has calmed down and thought things through.I don't want to talk to him, i want to go to sleep without him i want him to leave me alone.
I know it may sound childish and naive, but that me , that's how I feel.
Today I hate him and yet I am so sad that I have hurt him.
I told him, I told him I was coming home, I told him and he was very happy, he was very happy to know I would be home with him.
And then he asked me when I found out and I told him...and there was an ear splitting silence over the airwaves.......complete........absolute.
"Why slave, why did you wait to tell me?"
And I just shrugged, because for the life of me I could not find the words to explain to him the myriad of feelings that have gone through my mind since I found out.
I tried to find the words to explain, and fumbled and mumbled until he sort of got an understanding.
He smiled at me, laughed gently and told me how happy he was.
I wanted to weep buckets, but I didn't.
Then things started to fall apart big time.
He was concerned that I was so tired, I have had a hard few days back at work and was just tired, extra work, extra pressure, just stuff and lots of nightmares and disturbed sleep. This is not new, but it is a bit worse at the moment. He has noticed that when he lessens the control they get worse, I sleep worse, its just not good.
We were talking, and I know I was looking worried, I know I was and he said, "Relax slave, its ok, we are are talking, nothing is going to happen"
Then he reassured me again, "I will say if we are going to do anything".
He asked me a few more questions, asked me how, on a scale of 1-8 I felt the level of control was at that moment.
My TENS unit goes 1-8
I told him it was 6, he asked me to clarify, which I did, and then he told me to get the unit and put it on my nipples and turn it on. I was shocked, he had said, he had ...but he just told me to do this out of the blue. It stayed there on 1, for a while and then he turned it up to 2, it hurt initially and then it was bearable.
Then it was turned up to 3 and it hurt, it fucking hurt, but more than the pain in my nipples and tits, it hurt me.
He told me to use my finger to play with myself. I was crying by now, I felt heart broken, I really did. I remember muttering under my breath, "You are just like the rest of them", but he didn't hear me, he just heard me crying and told me to turn it off. He talked to me for a while, I stopped crying, but I was so sad, I felt betrayed. I now had no words to say, nothing to tell him how I felt and so he sent me to bed, to sleep He stayed there. I know he stayed there because I peeped, and then I fell asleep.
He wasn't there when I woke at 2 am, or a 3am ,he wasn't there when I woke up crying at 4 am, but he was there when I woke at 5am and gave up trying to sleep. We talked. I was quiet, he was wondering, knowing I was hurting, but not why.
I went to work and pissed him off when I couldn't talk to him. In the end I wrote him and e mail, telling him how I had felt last night.
When he got it he called me, He is very upset by what I have said.
I told him I felt he had betrayed my trust, that last night I had felt he was "like the others ".
I know he can do what he likes, when he likes, how he likes. But he specifically said to me not to worry, that nothing would happen unless he told me it would and then it did.
He told me that he will talk to me later when he has calmed down and thought things through.I don't want to talk to him, i want to go to sleep without him i want him to leave me alone.
I know it may sound childish and naive, but that me , that's how I feel.
Today I hate him and yet I am so sad that I have hurt him.
Wednesday, 1 June 2011
Feeling his control
I was right about there being something in the air....last night when he came online I could see the glint in his eye, his mind turning.
"You know don't you slave?"
"Oh yes Sir I know"
'You know its not to punish you, you know its just to remind you, about my control, about who and what you are...its not to hurt you?"
"Yes Sir"
So last night after kneeling for a while, he had me slowly undress for him, and as each piece of clothing came off, he examined me,commenting on what he could see. About how soft my skin looked, how he liked my tan, how he liked the way my hair was falling onto my neck. He liked the contrast of my black bra against my skin. When he checked my nipples and the bars, he commented on how happy it makes him to see the symbol of his ownership in my body, the words written around my nipples. He spoke about my cunt, how it was wet, and swollen slightly.
By the time he had finished I was almost purring with happiness and squirming with pleasure.
He told me to collect the small thin cane and two pegs. I had to run the cane over my nipples, and as they became harder and more erect, he had me squeeze and pinch then, pulling them. and then.........
"....get the pegs and peg the cane to your nipples, put the nipple on top of the cane and then peg it, then put your hood on".
As I did the first one, it slipped and I yelped,
"Do it carefully slave".
Again I tried and then began to breathe deeply as the pain flowed through me, the cane firmly attached to my nipples, he had me put the hood on and told me all I was to think about was his voice, that the pain was not important, nothing other than him was important, all I had to think about was him.
And then I had to put my hands behind my back and the pull on my nipples must have made me flinch or gasp.
"The pain is nothing, it is me that you think about, I am the only thing, no pegs no cane, no pain, just me "
And his voice filled my head, the pain subsided and I thought of him, of him looking at me, watching me, enjoying what he saw, knowing he was happy was what became important.
And then one of the pegs pinged off..and I wanted to put it back on for him, but he told me to pull the other one off and cane my nipples five times each, and to do it quickly.
Without thinking I canned them, and waited for him to comment..............he told me to make myself cum.........my cunt was dripping and I came so fast,the orgasm ripping through my body, and as I was cumming he told me to pull the hood off.
After i had cum I stayed there on the floor, kneeling before my owner, waiting for him to talk, unable to look at him , feeling submissive......and he started again, looking at my body, commenting on how it looked now, how he had enjoyed using me , how I was his.
When he had finished, I had to get the cane and the rope, then tying the rope around myself under my tits, I had to tie the cane to myself, criss-crossing the rope around me to ensure that the cane stayed where he wanted it, under my tits.
So for last night I slept with the cane tied to me, tied to my tits, to remind me that it can be used on me, to remind me that whatever he wants to do...he can. And surprisingly , I slept very well, apart from waking once, I slept through the night and I woke when he called me, I once again knelt before him and removed the rope and cane, and expecting the pegs again, I waited, not wanting to do it, they were tender and a little sore, but knowing that I would do as he asked. I felt completely under his control, submissive, ready to please him.
The pegs were there, the rope was there, the cane was there...............but once again he examined me, talking about what he saw, commenting on what made him happy.
"Now tell me slave, how do you feel?"
And I thought for a moment , and I thought some more and I had just three words, "Submissive Sir, owned".
"Oh slave you should see the smile on your face".
And he made me lay down on the floor and make myself cum for him, and as I came I was filled with such feeling of submission I asked him if I could be allowed to lie in "my place", face down on the floor, arms behind my back, ankles crossed.
He chuckled and said "Oh course slave, its where you belong, you may get up when you are ready".
And I lay there for about twenty minutes, floating away on a wave of happiness and submission, my mind filled with thought of him, how I can make him happy, how I can be a better slave for him and how I love him.
And when I sat up, he was smiling at me, his glasses on the end of his nose, and I knew he had been reading, waiting for me.
And it felt how it should be...two sides of the coin. two separate people.... one entity.
"Now my slave . off you go and enjoy your last day off, what ever you want, do whatever you want".
And what I wanted filled my head "And no slave that does NOT included kneeling the in front of me, I'm going to bed, go have fun".
And he sent me away, with a virtual pat on the arse............oh sigh.
"You know don't you slave?"
"Oh yes Sir I know"
'You know its not to punish you, you know its just to remind you, about my control, about who and what you are...its not to hurt you?"
"Yes Sir"
So last night after kneeling for a while, he had me slowly undress for him, and as each piece of clothing came off, he examined me,commenting on what he could see. About how soft my skin looked, how he liked my tan, how he liked the way my hair was falling onto my neck. He liked the contrast of my black bra against my skin. When he checked my nipples and the bars, he commented on how happy it makes him to see the symbol of his ownership in my body, the words written around my nipples. He spoke about my cunt, how it was wet, and swollen slightly.
By the time he had finished I was almost purring with happiness and squirming with pleasure.
He told me to collect the small thin cane and two pegs. I had to run the cane over my nipples, and as they became harder and more erect, he had me squeeze and pinch then, pulling them. and then.........
"....get the pegs and peg the cane to your nipples, put the nipple on top of the cane and then peg it, then put your hood on".
As I did the first one, it slipped and I yelped,
"Do it carefully slave".
Again I tried and then began to breathe deeply as the pain flowed through me, the cane firmly attached to my nipples, he had me put the hood on and told me all I was to think about was his voice, that the pain was not important, nothing other than him was important, all I had to think about was him.
And then I had to put my hands behind my back and the pull on my nipples must have made me flinch or gasp.
"The pain is nothing, it is me that you think about, I am the only thing, no pegs no cane, no pain, just me "
And his voice filled my head, the pain subsided and I thought of him, of him looking at me, watching me, enjoying what he saw, knowing he was happy was what became important.
And then one of the pegs pinged off..and I wanted to put it back on for him, but he told me to pull the other one off and cane my nipples five times each, and to do it quickly.
Without thinking I canned them, and waited for him to comment..............he told me to make myself cum.........my cunt was dripping and I came so fast,the orgasm ripping through my body, and as I was cumming he told me to pull the hood off.
After i had cum I stayed there on the floor, kneeling before my owner, waiting for him to talk, unable to look at him , feeling submissive......and he started again, looking at my body, commenting on how it looked now, how he had enjoyed using me , how I was his.
When he had finished, I had to get the cane and the rope, then tying the rope around myself under my tits, I had to tie the cane to myself, criss-crossing the rope around me to ensure that the cane stayed where he wanted it, under my tits.
So for last night I slept with the cane tied to me, tied to my tits, to remind me that it can be used on me, to remind me that whatever he wants to do...he can. And surprisingly , I slept very well, apart from waking once, I slept through the night and I woke when he called me, I once again knelt before him and removed the rope and cane, and expecting the pegs again, I waited, not wanting to do it, they were tender and a little sore, but knowing that I would do as he asked. I felt completely under his control, submissive, ready to please him.
The pegs were there, the rope was there, the cane was there...............but once again he examined me, talking about what he saw, commenting on what made him happy.
"Now tell me slave, how do you feel?"
And I thought for a moment , and I thought some more and I had just three words, "Submissive Sir, owned".
"Oh slave you should see the smile on your face".
And he made me lay down on the floor and make myself cum for him, and as I came I was filled with such feeling of submission I asked him if I could be allowed to lie in "my place", face down on the floor, arms behind my back, ankles crossed.
He chuckled and said "Oh course slave, its where you belong, you may get up when you are ready".
And I lay there for about twenty minutes, floating away on a wave of happiness and submission, my mind filled with thought of him, how I can make him happy, how I can be a better slave for him and how I love him.
And when I sat up, he was smiling at me, his glasses on the end of his nose, and I knew he had been reading, waiting for me.
And it felt how it should be...two sides of the coin. two separate people.... one entity.
"Now my slave . off you go and enjoy your last day off, what ever you want, do whatever you want".
And what I wanted filled my head "And no slave that does NOT included kneeling the in front of me, I'm going to bed, go have fun".
And he sent me away, with a virtual pat on the arse............oh sigh.
Saturday, 16 April 2011
The control is what I need the most.
I have been thinking........was it fun? Was it? No it wasn't.
Was it something he enjoys? Yes I guess it was.......he likes having the control, he like knowing that I will do what he says. He likes to know that he can make me do things I don't want to........but then I guess that's his kink...and mine is knowing I will.
He is into breath play, he always has been....................he likes to place his large hands around my neck and fix my eyes with his and gently squeeze and watch my face. He like to press harder as he fucks me, or as I make myself cum for him.........he likes to control me.
It is a lot more difficult to do this when I am "far away".
Its a lot more difficult to do this safely when I am not with him.
He sent me back with a clear, very large plastic bag.
He asked me to get all of the toys out, including the bag.........when he says 'Including the bag", my heart sort of leaps and sinks at the time time. I am filled with such a mixture of emotions. I love the control and the feelings that follow it, but I hate the bag itself.
The whole issue of safety is such a big one, the risks involved and measuring it , monitoring it etc is such a difficult thing to do from far away.
So to get over issues of safety, we have the laptop speaker on, the phone on and the camera is always on my face, nothing, but nothing takes his eyes off my face.The play itself is very restricted.
I kneel before him and attach the pegs to my nipples, immediately they begin to bite, to bite into the soft skin of my nipples, making me squirm with pain. He has me flick, pull and twist the pegs until I am begging him to stop...and still he continues.
He has me attach pegs to my cunt and one on my clit and has me flick them, and all the time my cunt is throbbing, getting wetter and I know what is coming.
I want it to start so it will be over..and yet I don't want it to start.
Its not like it is when I am home with him...here there is more fear, far more fear...even though I do know I am safe.
He has me prepare myself. the butt plug is in and I kneel before him ..........and then his phone goes and so I have to lie face down on the floor and wait for him to finish. I can hear him talking; hear him say he is busy, and yet still he talks........he talks business, dates and times, and then he says he must go.
I want him to get off the phone and me with me and yet I want him to stay there and leave me.. I can cope with the pain of the pegs pressed into my nipples by the hard floor, I can cope with it, if I think about it, feel it, wrap myself around it, the pegs on my cunts, squeezing the flesh of my cunt lips.
He gets off he phone and has me kneel again..............I am filled with the vibrator, it is on, the pegs on my cunt pushing and pulling on the delicate flesh .............and then it is time.
He checks the phone is working, that I can hear him there and on the laptop, and he tells me to take some deep breaths..........he counts them, and then tells me to put the bag on, and pull the rope.
It is not tight...it is tight enough so the bag moves when I breath, and i feel the air supply reducing, I feel the temperature rising in the bag, but I know I am allowed to take the bag off if I need to...................but I don't.
Hold my breath
Hold it
Hold
............ and then I am to cum
I am to make myself cum in the bag.........I know I can take it off if I need to
but I don't
I cum ...........................with the bag on........my cunt dripping down my leg.
He watches my face
talks to me
I take the bag off
And I cum again
I curl up on the floor and pull my special blanket down ontop of me.
I drift for what seems like hours with his voice in my ear, he talks of all things and I fall asleep as he talks of work
On the floor with the removed pegs clasped in my hand, I fall into an undisturbed sleep.
The bag is the thing I like the least...........the control is the thing I need the most.
Was it something he enjoys? Yes I guess it was.......he likes having the control, he like knowing that I will do what he says. He likes to know that he can make me do things I don't want to........but then I guess that's his kink...and mine is knowing I will.
He is into breath play, he always has been....................he likes to place his large hands around my neck and fix my eyes with his and gently squeeze and watch my face. He like to press harder as he fucks me, or as I make myself cum for him.........he likes to control me.
It is a lot more difficult to do this when I am "far away".
Its a lot more difficult to do this safely when I am not with him.
He sent me back with a clear, very large plastic bag.
He asked me to get all of the toys out, including the bag.........when he says 'Including the bag", my heart sort of leaps and sinks at the time time. I am filled with such a mixture of emotions. I love the control and the feelings that follow it, but I hate the bag itself.
The whole issue of safety is such a big one, the risks involved and measuring it , monitoring it etc is such a difficult thing to do from far away.
So to get over issues of safety, we have the laptop speaker on, the phone on and the camera is always on my face, nothing, but nothing takes his eyes off my face.The play itself is very restricted.
I kneel before him and attach the pegs to my nipples, immediately they begin to bite, to bite into the soft skin of my nipples, making me squirm with pain. He has me flick, pull and twist the pegs until I am begging him to stop...and still he continues.
He has me attach pegs to my cunt and one on my clit and has me flick them, and all the time my cunt is throbbing, getting wetter and I know what is coming.
I want it to start so it will be over..and yet I don't want it to start.
Its not like it is when I am home with him...here there is more fear, far more fear...even though I do know I am safe.
He has me prepare myself. the butt plug is in and I kneel before him ..........and then his phone goes and so I have to lie face down on the floor and wait for him to finish. I can hear him talking; hear him say he is busy, and yet still he talks........he talks business, dates and times, and then he says he must go.
I want him to get off the phone and me with me and yet I want him to stay there and leave me.. I can cope with the pain of the pegs pressed into my nipples by the hard floor, I can cope with it, if I think about it, feel it, wrap myself around it, the pegs on my cunts, squeezing the flesh of my cunt lips.
He gets off he phone and has me kneel again..............I am filled with the vibrator, it is on, the pegs on my cunt pushing and pulling on the delicate flesh .............and then it is time.
He checks the phone is working, that I can hear him there and on the laptop, and he tells me to take some deep breaths..........he counts them, and then tells me to put the bag on, and pull the rope.
It is not tight...it is tight enough so the bag moves when I breath, and i feel the air supply reducing, I feel the temperature rising in the bag, but I know I am allowed to take the bag off if I need to...................but I don't.
Hold my breath
Hold it
Hold
............ and then I am to cum
I am to make myself cum in the bag.........I know I can take it off if I need to
but I don't
I cum ...........................with the bag on........my cunt dripping down my leg.
He watches my face
talks to me
I take the bag off
And I cum again
I curl up on the floor and pull my special blanket down ontop of me.
I drift for what seems like hours with his voice in my ear, he talks of all things and I fall asleep as he talks of work
On the floor with the removed pegs clasped in my hand, I fall into an undisturbed sleep.
The bag is the thing I like the least...........the control is the thing I need the most.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Whack
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...
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.
Whack
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...
Tuesday, 18 January 2011
Are you ready slave?
He called at 2 am, I was fast asleep, I mean really fast asleep, that whole drooling, can't move a muscle, snoring, type of fast asleep. And I know it rang for a while and when I answered it I hadn't looked at the caller and so answered with a very sleepy "What?".
That is not a good answer to give to your owner.
"You said you were ready"
Oops............... I shot out of that bed so fast and onto my knees I think I broke the land speed record, as well as several flying records.
So at 2.10 am I was kneeling in front of him........ready.
He had me put ten of the killer pegs on each tit, the ones with the nipple shape thing that are built to withstand tropical storms and two on my cunt. Then the hood went on and I had to get the cane and run it over my body and think of what and who I am, and that when I used the cane I was to use it like he would,
It was just getting to the point where I was getting restless when he told me to hit the pegs off with the cane.
This is never easy at the best of times, but in the middle of the night with a hood on, trying to get pegs off when they have the grip of a limpet.............he was joking?
Nope.
By the time I had seven of them off I was sobbing; my tits hurt, my nipples were swollen, red, filled with pain, my tits criss cross with marks from the cane, and my head filled with mush.
He told me to stop and to cane myself across my stomach, at the same time as making myself cum.
The difficulty of making myself cum with the pain from the pegs, the pain from the cane, and actually canning myself filled me with frustration, and so tears of frustration mixed with tears of pain. I was instructed to stop the caning, and as I begged to be allowed to cum he said no.
No?
After all that..................... no?
I stood there........................ my whole body shaking with frustration, pain and unsatisfied lust, the hood over my head, 3 nipples still on my tits, 2 on my cunt.
When I was a little more composed I was asked if I was ready.
"Yes Sir"
"Make yourself cum and as you cum you are to pull the pegs off your tits and cunt"
Talk about mind control, I wanted to cum, needed to cum, but knew that once I got to that point, and begged to be allowed, I would have to pull the pegs off, knowing it would be so painful.
I started slowing, gently rubbing my slit, covering my fingers in my wetness, avoiding the pegs that pulled painfully on my outer lips. I was building it slowly, trying to get my head round the pain and was told to get a move on, and I was to cum by the count of 10.
1,2,3...............I could feel it coming.........the heat rising in my cunt, my juices flowing over my fingers,
4,5,.trying to make myself hold the pegs on my tits, feeling my fingers curl round them
6.............building, finger insistent
7......please let me cum.I don't want to, but want to please him..oh please
8..............ohhhhhhhhhhhh
9..............pull.
Bastard.
The pain from pulling the pegs off took my breath away, left me shaking, desperate for him, to feel his touch, legs shaking, knees buckling, sobbing sweating and calling his name. needing him, wanting to feel his hand on me, squeezing my neck, stroking me,slapping me, caressing me.......at that moment I wanted it all.
And he called me, gently, telling me to remove the hood, to get my blanket, to sit down, to breathe, to calm down. I heard his voice but not he words.
When I was a bit calmer he sent me for a shower, a hot shower, soothing and gentle.
I was allowed my towel, and then told to rub cream onto the worst whelts, to wrap my blanket round, put on my night time rope and lie down.
"Ready slave?"
I went to get out of bed............."Good girl............. go to sleep, I am pleased with your progress, lesson one."
And I think before I had pulled the cover up I was asleep.
I didn't move in the night and woke where I had lain.....................
I looked at my computer...................................
r
e
a
d
y
?
That is not a good answer to give to your owner.
"You said you were ready"
Oops............... I shot out of that bed so fast and onto my knees I think I broke the land speed record, as well as several flying records.
So at 2.10 am I was kneeling in front of him........ready.
He had me put ten of the killer pegs on each tit, the ones with the nipple shape thing that are built to withstand tropical storms and two on my cunt. Then the hood went on and I had to get the cane and run it over my body and think of what and who I am, and that when I used the cane I was to use it like he would,
It was just getting to the point where I was getting restless when he told me to hit the pegs off with the cane.
This is never easy at the best of times, but in the middle of the night with a hood on, trying to get pegs off when they have the grip of a limpet.............he was joking?
Nope.
By the time I had seven of them off I was sobbing; my tits hurt, my nipples were swollen, red, filled with pain, my tits criss cross with marks from the cane, and my head filled with mush.
He told me to stop and to cane myself across my stomach, at the same time as making myself cum.
The difficulty of making myself cum with the pain from the pegs, the pain from the cane, and actually canning myself filled me with frustration, and so tears of frustration mixed with tears of pain. I was instructed to stop the caning, and as I begged to be allowed to cum he said no.
No?
After all that..................... no?
I stood there........................ my whole body shaking with frustration, pain and unsatisfied lust, the hood over my head, 3 nipples still on my tits, 2 on my cunt.
When I was a little more composed I was asked if I was ready.
"Yes Sir"
"Make yourself cum and as you cum you are to pull the pegs off your tits and cunt"
Talk about mind control, I wanted to cum, needed to cum, but knew that once I got to that point, and begged to be allowed, I would have to pull the pegs off, knowing it would be so painful.
I started slowing, gently rubbing my slit, covering my fingers in my wetness, avoiding the pegs that pulled painfully on my outer lips. I was building it slowly, trying to get my head round the pain and was told to get a move on, and I was to cum by the count of 10.
1,2,3...............I could feel it coming.........the heat rising in my cunt, my juices flowing over my fingers,
4,5,.trying to make myself hold the pegs on my tits, feeling my fingers curl round them
6.............building, finger insistent
7......please let me cum.I don't want to, but want to please him..oh please
8..............ohhhhhhhhhhhh
9..............pull.
Bastard.
The pain from pulling the pegs off took my breath away, left me shaking, desperate for him, to feel his touch, legs shaking, knees buckling, sobbing sweating and calling his name. needing him, wanting to feel his hand on me, squeezing my neck, stroking me,slapping me, caressing me.......at that moment I wanted it all.
And he called me, gently, telling me to remove the hood, to get my blanket, to sit down, to breathe, to calm down. I heard his voice but not he words.
When I was a bit calmer he sent me for a shower, a hot shower, soothing and gentle.
I was allowed my towel, and then told to rub cream onto the worst whelts, to wrap my blanket round, put on my night time rope and lie down.
"Ready slave?"
I went to get out of bed............."Good girl............. go to sleep, I am pleased with your progress, lesson one."
And I think before I had pulled the cover up I was asleep.
I didn't move in the night and woke where I had lain.....................
I looked at my computer...................................
r
e
a
d
y
?
Friday, 14 January 2011
Pain is a life experience
Last night I couldn't sleep, I had been used again, but that wasnt the reason,he didnt want me to wear my rope, and I don't think that was the reason, I was still coughing, and I feel like I am short of breath and unabale to completly fill my lungs with each breath, but I dont even think that was the reason.
I was thinking when I couldnt seleep. I was thinking about pain.
I know that there are people that enjoy pain, and sometimes I think maybe I do, but mostly I think maybe I dont. For me it is seldom the pain that he inflicts on me, or makes me inflict on myself, its not the pain....its the control, the lack of choice, the non existence of any power, the feeling of helplessness, the submission to his will and desires, that does it for me.
If he gives me a chocie of activities, I very rarley choose a painful one, although it is hard when I know it is what he wants and enjoys, although he enjoys the control too.
What I was thinking about was the differnt types of pain and how I deal with them.
I have gone through, like most people of my age, a wide variety of different life experience, some of them happy and some of them sad, some of them have filled me with undeniable pain. Some I have recovered from quickly and others have taken time, but the pain does go, but what it leaves behind is different each time.
I have experienced the pain of miscarriaige, which lodged deep inside me, pain of such loss, loss of potential, of what could have been, of a future..... but I learnt to deal with it by realising that not everything is mean to be, howver much it hurts, its just not.
I have dealt with the pain of long labours and of child birth, that sort of pain, that stops the moment your arms are filled with a baby, and you are filled with the exact opposite of pain.
I have watched my children grow and learn ; and held them as they have felt the pain of disapointment, envy, jealousy, heartbreak, loneliness, injustice and watched my daughter give birth. And all of that is a pain, each and every one, big, small, seemingly insignificant and life changing that I would have, in a heartbeat, have taken away from them if I could,...........but.........it is making them into the people they are becoming.
I have endured the pain of a destructive relationship, where it became so unbearable that in the end I no longer cared, about myself, about a future.........about anything........until I felt nothing at all.........and as for the light at the end of the tunnel...I didn't even care if was there or not. Then there was the productive pain of a long slow recovery of my physical and menatl health where each day was painful,emotional pain, that made me strong becasue I knew I would be okay in the end. And not only did I have my hand wrapped around the cord that turned the light I, I wasn't letting go, and it was staying on; , full, bright and filling me with a sense of hope, sending any remaining residual pain, into the shadows where I could look at it, remember it, and keep it where it should be...far away.
I have been humbled by the pain of loosing three friend in one year, of watching them slowly and inexorablly travel towards their end. Three of my best friends, people I love, and I watched in awe as they coped with their bodily pain, their sense of their own mortality and how they supported us, those who love, to deal with our pain at the thought that they would no longer be with us...and I was truely blessed to have them as friends, and my pain was nothing compared to theirs. But my heart is no longer filled with pain when I think about them , but joy and happinesss at the memories I have, memories I keep in my heart .
And the other pain I have is the pain that he inflicts on my, by my choice. I have given him the right to do it, and now I have no choice about the type of pain I receive, when or where. Sometimes it is such mental pain, where the pain I feel when I have disapointed him, which could be argued to be self inflcited, makes me want to curl up, withdraw into myself and hide in shame. The pain of having to talk about what I have done wrong, or failed to do, how my behaviour has had a negative impact on him and his happiness is like a knife in my heart. But hopefully it teaches me to be a better slave, to serve him better an be as he desire and demands I am , and so for that I am grateful for the pain
The physcial pain, the one that fills my head, with something like white noise, the pain of clamps on nipples, when sometimes I want to crawl across the floor to try and escape it, to bang my head against the wall, to give me something else to focus on, but where invariablly I am left standing, with instrcutions not to move, or keeling, or on all fours, the pull of clamps, of weights exaserbating the pain.
The pain of being beaten, with hand and fist, slapped, canned, whipped and flogged, hair pulled, pinched, twisted and squeezed.
It is this pain that so confuses me, that leaves me breathelss, that leaves me in a state of euphoria, unable to focus on anything other than him, than the words he says, until he too fades into the distance and all that is left is nothing...........................just a sense of peace and calm and quiet, and although everypart of my body may be hurting I feel nothing.
And as I return to him and hear words such as "Good girl," and "I am proud of you" and "You have pleased me", whatever pain I have felt, ........................ hear those words and to know it is me that has made him feel like that, is worth it.And I deal with it because I know it has given him pleasure or he has used it to make me learn, to be a slave, his slave and at the end of the day.
That is all I want...to be his.
I was thinking when I couldnt seleep. I was thinking about pain.
I know that there are people that enjoy pain, and sometimes I think maybe I do, but mostly I think maybe I dont. For me it is seldom the pain that he inflicts on me, or makes me inflict on myself, its not the pain....its the control, the lack of choice, the non existence of any power, the feeling of helplessness, the submission to his will and desires, that does it for me.
If he gives me a chocie of activities, I very rarley choose a painful one, although it is hard when I know it is what he wants and enjoys, although he enjoys the control too.
What I was thinking about was the differnt types of pain and how I deal with them.
I have gone through, like most people of my age, a wide variety of different life experience, some of them happy and some of them sad, some of them have filled me with undeniable pain. Some I have recovered from quickly and others have taken time, but the pain does go, but what it leaves behind is different each time.
I have experienced the pain of miscarriaige, which lodged deep inside me, pain of such loss, loss of potential, of what could have been, of a future..... but I learnt to deal with it by realising that not everything is mean to be, howver much it hurts, its just not.
I have dealt with the pain of long labours and of child birth, that sort of pain, that stops the moment your arms are filled with a baby, and you are filled with the exact opposite of pain.
I have watched my children grow and learn ; and held them as they have felt the pain of disapointment, envy, jealousy, heartbreak, loneliness, injustice and watched my daughter give birth. And all of that is a pain, each and every one, big, small, seemingly insignificant and life changing that I would have, in a heartbeat, have taken away from them if I could,...........but.........it is making them into the people they are becoming.
I have endured the pain of a destructive relationship, where it became so unbearable that in the end I no longer cared, about myself, about a future.........about anything........until I felt nothing at all.........and as for the light at the end of the tunnel...I didn't even care if was there or not. Then there was the productive pain of a long slow recovery of my physical and menatl health where each day was painful,emotional pain, that made me strong becasue I knew I would be okay in the end. And not only did I have my hand wrapped around the cord that turned the light I, I wasn't letting go, and it was staying on; , full, bright and filling me with a sense of hope, sending any remaining residual pain, into the shadows where I could look at it, remember it, and keep it where it should be...far away.
I have been humbled by the pain of loosing three friend in one year, of watching them slowly and inexorablly travel towards their end. Three of my best friends, people I love, and I watched in awe as they coped with their bodily pain, their sense of their own mortality and how they supported us, those who love, to deal with our pain at the thought that they would no longer be with us...and I was truely blessed to have them as friends, and my pain was nothing compared to theirs. But my heart is no longer filled with pain when I think about them , but joy and happinesss at the memories I have, memories I keep in my heart .
And the other pain I have is the pain that he inflicts on my, by my choice. I have given him the right to do it, and now I have no choice about the type of pain I receive, when or where. Sometimes it is such mental pain, where the pain I feel when I have disapointed him, which could be argued to be self inflcited, makes me want to curl up, withdraw into myself and hide in shame. The pain of having to talk about what I have done wrong, or failed to do, how my behaviour has had a negative impact on him and his happiness is like a knife in my heart. But hopefully it teaches me to be a better slave, to serve him better an be as he desire and demands I am , and so for that I am grateful for the pain
The physcial pain, the one that fills my head, with something like white noise, the pain of clamps on nipples, when sometimes I want to crawl across the floor to try and escape it, to bang my head against the wall, to give me something else to focus on, but where invariablly I am left standing, with instrcutions not to move, or keeling, or on all fours, the pull of clamps, of weights exaserbating the pain.
The pain of being beaten, with hand and fist, slapped, canned, whipped and flogged, hair pulled, pinched, twisted and squeezed.
It is this pain that so confuses me, that leaves me breathelss, that leaves me in a state of euphoria, unable to focus on anything other than him, than the words he says, until he too fades into the distance and all that is left is nothing...........................just a sense of peace and calm and quiet, and although everypart of my body may be hurting I feel nothing.
And as I return to him and hear words such as "Good girl," and "I am proud of you" and "You have pleased me", whatever pain I have felt, ........................ hear those words and to know it is me that has made him feel like that, is worth it.And I deal with it because I know it has given him pleasure or he has used it to make me learn, to be a slave, his slave and at the end of the day.
That is all I want...to be his.
Thursday, 13 January 2011
Ways to tell your owner is feeling better
He is feeling better,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,how can I tell?
It could be the rope marks left on my tits from the tightest binding I have ever had to do, till they turned blueish and then purpleish, till they felt like that were going to split like a ripe plum, the skin tight and straining.
It could be the deep pain in my nipples from wearing the clothes pegs under my clothes. The bra pressing the pegs onto me, twisting and shifting them with even the smallest movement, making it hard for me to get my head round the pain till I am whimpering and gasping with each breath.
It could be the marks left on my tits from the killer pegs that I had to put on my bound tits. The pegs he chose that have a grip like a nipple fitting into a hole, that impress the flesh like a waffle iron and hurt like hell when you take them off, so your eyes smart, the breath catches in the back of your throat and you can't decide if it hurts more to keep them on or take them off.
It could be the messing with my head, while he left me blindfold and bound in the corner, telling me I was a slut, a toy, a thing to be used.
It could be how he made me kneel before him and bring me to that second of wild abandon before I come, that moment of almost madness, where he stopped me and left me standing begging to be allowed to cum and being denied.
These are some of the clues that made me think he might be feeling a tad better..............I'm not looking forward to when he us 100%....actually maybe I am.:)
It could be the rope marks left on my tits from the tightest binding I have ever had to do, till they turned blueish and then purpleish, till they felt like that were going to split like a ripe plum, the skin tight and straining.
It could be the deep pain in my nipples from wearing the clothes pegs under my clothes. The bra pressing the pegs onto me, twisting and shifting them with even the smallest movement, making it hard for me to get my head round the pain till I am whimpering and gasping with each breath.
It could be the marks left on my tits from the killer pegs that I had to put on my bound tits. The pegs he chose that have a grip like a nipple fitting into a hole, that impress the flesh like a waffle iron and hurt like hell when you take them off, so your eyes smart, the breath catches in the back of your throat and you can't decide if it hurts more to keep them on or take them off.
It could be the messing with my head, while he left me blindfold and bound in the corner, telling me I was a slut, a toy, a thing to be used.
It could be how he made me kneel before him and bring me to that second of wild abandon before I come, that moment of almost madness, where he stopped me and left me standing begging to be allowed to cum and being denied.
These are some of the clues that made me think he might be feeling a tad better..............I'm not looking forward to when he us 100%....actually maybe I am.:)
Saturday, 1 January 2011
Rudeness will always be punished
I threw a big hissy fit yesterday.
I behaved like a child and I am sorry.
He asked me to do something, it wasn't difficult, it wasn't something that I haven't done before, but doing it was going to be difficult because of other calls on me and my time.
He knew that, but he told me to do it.
I was rude and grumpy, I sulked and glowered at him over the miles.
He sent me away.
I sent him an email telling him he was being unfair, how he was making me feel and why.
I was there when he told me to be, not happily, pleased to see him, pleased to have time with him, but sulking and rude and stressed.
He sent me away
I came back later when he had told me to, and I was still grumpy and off hand.
He asked me to explain and I did.
He told me that I should have trusted him, he was not going to do what I has feared, all he had wanted was to say hello. he was not going to compromise my safety, my position, nor did he have any desire to make me stressed about it, I should have trusted him.
I was so angry. I was angry with him. I was angry with the world. I was angry with myself. I was just angry.
I was wrong.
I was punished......not for being angry.....but for being rude.
I was given a lesson on trust.
I was punished again.
And as the clock changed to midnight I was doing what I should do.
I was gagged, hooded, plugged, the toy deep inside me, tied so it and I, could not move.
The only thing I could hear was his voice, the only thing I thought about was him.
Then he told me off, harsh words, words slaves do not like, words that burn into my heart; "Let down, disappointed, expected more, you should know, bad behaviour," and all spoken softly with calmness and thought.
And I was filled with shame at my behaviour and my lack of trust and not realising that he does know best, he does always have my interest at heart, and most of all shame at my lack of submission.
I could not look at him, I wished he had been able to beat me, but the pain I felt was more than any beating, each word leaving a mark on me more painful than any cane, each phrase biting more than any strike of the whip.
I wanted to crawl to him and beg his forgiveness, but all I could do was beg.
He talked, I cried. he talked I cried more.
He sent me for a shower and a hot drink, and when I returned his greeting "My slave, my love, my sweet" filled me with a tearful sadness and with happiness.
And I curled up on the floor with my blanket and drifted off to sleep.
When I woke this morning , I had a message...." Happy New Year my slave"
I am sorry Sir.
I behaved like a child and I am sorry.
He asked me to do something, it wasn't difficult, it wasn't something that I haven't done before, but doing it was going to be difficult because of other calls on me and my time.
He knew that, but he told me to do it.
I was rude and grumpy, I sulked and glowered at him over the miles.
He sent me away.
I sent him an email telling him he was being unfair, how he was making me feel and why.
I was there when he told me to be, not happily, pleased to see him, pleased to have time with him, but sulking and rude and stressed.
He sent me away
I came back later when he had told me to, and I was still grumpy and off hand.
He asked me to explain and I did.
He told me that I should have trusted him, he was not going to do what I has feared, all he had wanted was to say hello. he was not going to compromise my safety, my position, nor did he have any desire to make me stressed about it, I should have trusted him.
I was so angry. I was angry with him. I was angry with the world. I was angry with myself. I was just angry.
I was wrong.
I was punished......not for being angry.....but for being rude.
I was given a lesson on trust.
I was punished again.
And as the clock changed to midnight I was doing what I should do.
I was gagged, hooded, plugged, the toy deep inside me, tied so it and I, could not move.
The only thing I could hear was his voice, the only thing I thought about was him.
Then he told me off, harsh words, words slaves do not like, words that burn into my heart; "Let down, disappointed, expected more, you should know, bad behaviour," and all spoken softly with calmness and thought.
And I was filled with shame at my behaviour and my lack of trust and not realising that he does know best, he does always have my interest at heart, and most of all shame at my lack of submission.
I could not look at him, I wished he had been able to beat me, but the pain I felt was more than any beating, each word leaving a mark on me more painful than any cane, each phrase biting more than any strike of the whip.
I wanted to crawl to him and beg his forgiveness, but all I could do was beg.
He talked, I cried. he talked I cried more.
He sent me for a shower and a hot drink, and when I returned his greeting "My slave, my love, my sweet" filled me with a tearful sadness and with happiness.
And I curled up on the floor with my blanket and drifted off to sleep.
When I woke this morning , I had a message...." Happy New Year my slave"
I am sorry Sir.
Thursday, 23 December 2010
My place is face down on the floor.
This morning we were able to talk, I was able to see him.
I woke in the night and realised that he was there. I said hello, and he told me to go back to sleep and then I struggled and struggled to sleep...wanting to talk to him, wanting to hear his voice.. but he as having none of it.
I tried again, I interrupted what he was doing.............and he ignored me.
I tried once more.........and I was told to do as I had been told.
When I woke up at the proper time, I greeted him as I always do, waiting to be allowed to get up and he left me there. I didn't want to call his attention again, I knew he knew I was there and so I waited ...almost patiently.
When he was ready, we talked. We talked about the last few days where we have had little contact about what I had been doing, how I was feeling and he said I looked like I was feeling a little lost, I told him I was fine, he said I looked lost, I said I was fine.....................he was right.
We had more discussion about how I was feeling, the conclusion that he came to was that I needed reminding of my place............so still in my rope which binds my feet, no more than 4 inches apart, up my back, round my neck and my hands bound before me in a noose, I was sent to stand my the wall with the pegs on my nipples and I was to think of nothing but him, to ignore any noise, any sound I heard, any thought that entered my head I was to dispel and I was to wait.
I stood for two hours.
When he called me back I knelt before him.
I had to get the hood and place it over my head and then tie my hands behind my back.
I was instructed to lie face down on the floor, cross my legs at the ankle and to wait.
It is difficult to lie down without smacking your your head on the floor, somehow I managed it and as I lay down and felt the pegs on my nipples dig in, his voice filled my head.
"This is your place, this is where you will wait for me, you are a slave, this is your place."
And so that is it. From now on. I do not have to wait like that for him to appear, but once I am talking to him, if he tells me to wait, I will wait like that; hooded, face down, legs crossed with the pegs on my nipples pressing into me to remind me of what I am and where my place is.
Pain is a gift from him.
Sight is a gift from him.
Movement is a gift from him.
An unrestricted breath is a gift from him.
His time is a gift.
Any can be given and any can be taken away.
He knows I am there and I must wait until he is ready and if he is not ready, I must wait anyway.
Wednesday, 22 December 2010
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 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
Saturday, 11 December 2010
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
.
.
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
.
.
Saturday, 27 November 2010
This was control
Very slowly I wound the rope under my tits, and pulled, and kept pulling till he said stop. I tied them as he has shown me a hundred time, following his spoken instruction. I hadn't finished the last knot and already I could feel the pain...
Four pegs were already on me; One on each lip; two to remind me that I am allowed to speak when he chooses and two to remind me that every part of me is his. Ten more pegs, this time five on each engorged tit, the skin compressed between their biting edges, slipping, then gripping their vice like edges into the tender white skin. I waited for the next number, but it didn't come.
The rope cam next,round my neck, not tight, but just enough for me to feel it, like his hands that I miss, the touch of his skin, the squeeze on my throat......not tight......but just enough to remind me.
He talked about what was missing, what was wrong. what I am.
I am a slave
I have no limits
"No" is not a word in my vocabulary.
He made it clear I was not being punished, I had not done anything wrong. He had been watching me closely, listening to me and could see and hear I missed his control and this was just a gentle(!) reminder.
And so I stood facing the wall..... trying to think about what I am, who I belong to, what he can do. and I did not move.
My head was flying around the place, list of things to do, jobs outstanding, places to be, dates to arrange...and slowly one by one the noise in my head subsided, it was quieter and I began to focus on him.
I was thirty minutes, it felt like five, but it was thirty.
"Come back to me" he said...I jumped and stood before him.
"Kneel, open your legs and put the toy in, then close them tight"
the pegs began to bite into my, hurting, a hot burning pain,making me whimper. I could hear it bouncing back on the satellite connection, and I felt ashamed. not a lot, but hearing my self, I could feel the blush creeping over my face.
He chuckled..."you can hear it , cant you?"
"yes Sir, I can"
"Make yourself cum'
The pain ratcheted up in an instant, the pegs caught between my legs, one of them twisted around, each touch on my finger on myself brought more pain. Self inflicted ,unavoidable pain.
And despite myself I could feel the wetness, the need growing. My breath coming in short gasps, sweat beginning to form on my face,the ropes biting into my tits, my whole body beginning to shake with a mixture of pain and pleasure, of longing and of need........
.........and as I open my mouth to beg to be allowed to cum............
"STOP"
.
I knelt still, my hair damp with sweat, my eyes filled with tears of frustration and discomfort.
I was given a choice....hit the pegs off with the cane he gave me, or jump up and down till they came off....so I chose the second option, thinking that the chances of me missing and hitting my nipples was greater than the pegs staying on too long.
I didn't look, I heard them fall off as I jumped, over and over again, first one, then 2,3 and 4...until all but 2 were left. I thought i would be there all night , jumping, without them moving. I had to pull them off and for once it was a relief.
"Get the hood"
I hate the hood, I hate the feeling of isolation, I hate it. It is hot and stuffy and I think I cant breath,I hate not seeing anything, I hate it.
The pegs still on my lips, I put the hood on and lay face down on the floor, with my hands behind my back and my legs crossed and I tried to be calm. I tried to breath. I could hear his voice talking to me, telling me all I have to think about is him, nothing else, no one else.
He is my focus.
My bound tits felt like they would explode, the bars in my nipples would burst, splitting me open. they felt hot and sore and I couldn't think. I concentrated on his voice......
Slowly my head emptied, the noise subsided............quieter and quieter...until it was silent, and my mind filled with thoughts of him; of satisfying him, pleasing him, making him happy, and I relaxed, I felt no pain, no heat, nothing.
When he called my name...............it took a while to bring myself back, to get up and crawl back to him, to kneel before the camera, waiting to remove the hood.
He allowed me to take it off....................
"Oh that's better" he said, "you are smiling again".
And I was.
Off floating away, in my own place, the one I find, the one that finds me ...........and very gently he pulled me back, slowly talking to me, making me get ready for sleep, making me remove the last 4 pegs and ropes, checking me, gently talking to me, telling me how happy he was, how please he was. Telling me I was good.
I was cold. He allowed me my soft blanket, and as I wrapped myself up in in, feeling its softness sooth my sore skin his voice, his words, continued to sooth my heart,my soul.
I tied my nighttime rope to my feet and then hands and curled up and as I drifted off to sleep the sound of his voice in my ears with gentle words, my heart with happiness.
and I slept with a smile on my face.
I
Friday, 5 November 2010
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.
\
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.
\
Sunday, 31 October 2010
What does darkness sound like?
Openness is hard for the self sufficient, the wounded, the woman filled with determined self preservation and yet it is the thing I yearn for, the thing I strive to be...to be open...the one thing, after obedience, my Master demands of me.
I try, I struggle.
Its like dipping your toe in the cool waters of a still lake at sunset............you see the ripples slowly spread across the surface of the water, altering the picture created on the lake, moving floating objects,making floating leaves dance, changing shadows, distorting images. And if you peer into the rippled water, you see your reflection, altered, facets of it changing moving, developing......................until you no longer look like yourself.............and for that brief moment you are , to yourself, unrecognisable.
And once again I have been in trouble for the same thing..not being open.
We are at present, thousands of miles apart, and so online, on the phone, is how we have to communicate, and its hard................and for the last two days to every question of "how are you?' and "how are you feeling?" the word that i have used is"fine".....................this is not what he hears...............he hears what my heart speaks late in the night, in the aloneness, the quiet moments, and he pushes and pushes, probes and probes................until he has to resort to pain to get me to open up.
The hood is something he uses, and I hate it, its not dark, its not tight, its not even tied, but I feel myself shutting off inside, like lights on a stage closing down at the end of a show, hearing my breathing, trying to slow it , until it slows and I can hear it no longer, and I begin to wonder if I am there at all..................and I wait to hear him, any little noise.wishing.............and I hear the silence and it is black and the black is silent.
And I wait..until all I am doing is waiting and breathing.................and I fear hearing him because I know what will follow.................pain...........and questions............and pushing........and probing...............and making me.........open up................. and when I finally answer his question , after an hour of pain, the tears pouring down my face, sobbing, gasping for breath.....................he says.................."why was that this hard to ask for?" How do I answer that? the answer fills my head; letters, words, phrases jumbling as they drip out, unseen ................asking for more when someone gives you so much, although its not "more" , its "different" what I need..........................something to make the feeling of time and space between us diminish.
And for a brief moment I long for the darkness again, when all it was about was breathing, and then a lightness fills me. He is right; being open is so much better.................it doesn't matter what happens to the ripples on the water...they are out of my control .It is him that tells me to put my toe in, how far and when to take it out again.It is him who manipulates the distortions, the shadows and the changes and it is him who makes me what I am, without him, how would I be who and what I am.
..and what did I ask for, what did I need? I needed him to leave me more off lines...nothing more,,,time differences make life difficult and somehow 12 hours is warped into 20...that is all....it was easy really......all I had to do was ask.
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