A basket of snakes

There are times when spending time with me must be like having a basket of snakes...you never know when you lift the lid if they will all be asleep , or one will leap forward and spit at you!

Part of the problem is that I am having real difficulties sleeping...some nights it takes me hours to go to sleep, but usually that is when he is not around to "send me to bed", and then I can lie awake for hours, tossing and turning, thinking of things, running through my day, planning the next day, making endless mental lists, thinking of those things that only appear in the night to just knock the edge off sleepiness....but for me the real problem is staying asleep. I can go to sleep and then fall asleep forty minutes later..........my mind wide awake....................and bits of my body fast asleep still, and other bits ready to get out of bed and it drives me crazy....but worse than that is at the moment I am plagued by nightmares.........things from the past coming back to haunt me, things from the present raising their ugly head and then some really weird and abstract things that make no sense at all....... and they wake me up...sometimes with a start.........sitting bold upright in bed, sometimes fearful and sometime with a "what the hell?" thought, other times calling out, or crying.
This is not new...but it has become worse in recent moths, getting more intense since I came back .........if he is there , he is the first thing I look for, the reassurance he gives me, how he calms me, talks to me , makes me feel safe.............and when he is not, finding peace is much harder, but I do go back to sleep, fitful sleep, almost afraid to sleep in case the dreams start again...some times they do, but sometimes they don't.

The point of all of this is .......I am tired, grumpy, tearful, emotional and a bit like a bear with a sore head......or like a snake in a basket.

Last night I made a comment about...."Jumping up and down and waving my knickers in the air"...and so when I went to bed, he told me that that was what he wanted me to do.......except I had no knickers and so he said to wave my bra whilst singing "She'll be comin round the mountain..."

I had had a tough day, and a long disturbed night and I was not happy, but I was trying I really was, and then he said that , and I could feel the tears welling up before I even stood up............and I am so tired of crying...........I'm sick of hearing myself cry, tired of snot and tears...and I threw the bra on the floor, took of my rope from round my neck and threw it onto the floor (something I have never done and never ever thought would ever happen ) and sobbed...."I don't want to do this any more, I can't do this any more. I can't do it"  and I moved out of view of the camera and stood sobbing...................

I was immediately ashamed of how I was behaving and stood in the room,unable to make my self go back and face him............he called me and told me to get back in front of the camera...........................

Of course I wanted to, but didn't. I didn't know what to do, but I knelt in front of him, hanging my head, not knowing what to say to explain what was going on when he asked me................he was calm.........his voice quiet, slow, thoughtfully spoken words....my only answer was that "I was sick of crying"..........................he said that this was the place for crying, this wasn't the place to hold things back, or try and control things, that was the place to be what I am, and that if I needed to cry ......I should cry.
 Saying all that......he wasn't happy, he was cross that I had been rude and had gone out of the camera view...........and for that I was to be punished....not for crying...not for loosing my temper ...but for leaving the camera view without permission.

Two ouchy pegs...ones that really hurt were on my nipples...........and then I had to stand facing the wall......with my arms above my head.....................and on tip toe and wait until he was ready to punish me...and in the meantime I was, once again, to think about how I could be a better slave.

And I stood there............... and as the pin spread from my nipples deep iside me, the pressure building, .....my calf muscles burning with the effort of staying on tiptoe,  the balls of my feet  feeling hot, and the muscles in my arms aching, beginning to shake, my shoulders burning with the effort and my nipples pressed into the wall............ I  cried again.

He called me back to him, and I knelt before him again.............and he had me get the vibrator and ram it hard into my cunt, and close my legs.....he had me tie a rope bra, as tight as I could, the rope biting into my breasts, pulled together and upwards...........hard , tight skin, nipples pushed forwards and clamped between the viscous pegs.......and then he told me, as he counted, I would slap my nipples ten times each.
When he does it...it hurts, it makes me gasps, it takes my breath away as the pain shoots into me, filling me..........but when I have to do it to my self, then there is a fight within myself.having to hit my nipples with the peg on.......knowing how much it will hurt.........it is hard.

"One"...............and I tried, I tried to do it, "one"......I tried ..."Do it" and I raised my hand and brought ti down hard on my nipple...............and I hated him for making me do it, but I hated more that he had had to say it three times...................he counted out each one, and I did each one......there was no regular timing to them, which made it worse, the anticipation, the making myself do it hard enough not to have to start again............but I did it.............. and he told me to remove the pegs, and he told me if I did it again, would wae the rope bra for a whole day.

He sent me to clean up, to remove the vibrator, to undo the bra and to lie down and go to sleep and he would talk to me in the morning................and to call him if I woke up.

I  woke up about ninety minutes later and called him............and we talked about what had happened...........he talked about my over reaction to his "playing " with me, that it was meant to be a bit of fun............we talked about what was the reason for my punishment, he told me he loved me again, and told me to go back to sleep and we would talk in the morning.....................and I slept without nightmares.and when I woke in the morning he was there and said to me"Good morning my little spitting cobra".................I did smile:)

Taking back all the control

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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
.
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