Anal Slut

I've always had a love-hate relationship with anal... well... I gotta tell ya... no longer!

I was talking to a friend/ ex fuck buddy and said as a joke/semi joke that I'd love to become an anal slut. We joked around about it for a while, then the conversation moved on and was forgotten... by me at least!

Went to visit him and some other friends over the weekend and my oh my!

To cut a long story short - we fucked.

And DAMN! He took my comment about becoming an anal slut to heart and I am so glad he did! I dont know if he realizes he's a Dom.. but he SO is! While spooning me, he was whispering in my ear about how hot my ass is and how he was going to fuck it like my pussy (and he's totally re-named my ass to pussy from now on) and that my cunt is only for breeding and to make sticky cum to rub onto my pussy.

I'm such a sucker for dirty talk. Not the crappy "I'm going to fuck you so hard"... but the mind-fuck dirty talk... I just slip into subspace so quickly.

So.. things are looking promising! He sent me a message today saying:
"Hows my pussy doing? I'll be seeing her on the weekend"

Woo to becoming an anal slut!

~OH

Its been a while, huh?
Or at least, it feels like it!!

Work has been pleasurably busy... and a roller coaster of emotions for me!
Yesterday was the pits ... not the worst ever, but it was pretty bad.

Tonight was just amazing. Imagine little 5"3' me instructing 43 (yes, 43!) people to all do the same work ... and it worked! A lot of these people are taller than me when they are sitting down... so I feel really good about myself right now.

In terms of kink... there hasnt been any (not really turning into a surprise though, huh?)

But right now, I dont care... things are going well at work which is one goal met!

~OH

When kink becomes Vanilla...

I was leaving a comment on DY's blog about the nature of needing the elusive "more" in sexual kinks... and a comment turned into an essay (or long ramble, depending on your view).. so, these are my thoughts on it.....

I think that over time, what is a kink can then become a BDSM version of vanilla (maybe vanilla with chocolate drips mixed in?).

I think this happens because that aspect of a kink has been done so much (especially when it feels new and interesting and addicting) which makes it loose its edge... not quiet as arousing as it once was ... so then its about looking for a kink ONTOP of a kink..

My example would be when I first started getting into BDSM.... I was a very "sweet and innocent" girl and was pretty shy about talking to people etc.

Hell, it took me a long time to get into masturbation (for a long time the idea of getting my fingers wet with my juice just... creeped me out, so I was rubbing myself though my panties... yes yes, silly I know... but I'm WAY over that issue now... infact the next best part of masturbation is being able to lick my fingers clean after!!!)

Anyhoo... I used to read a lot of sex stories online. All vanilla. Then one day it wasnt enough. So then I looked into the "Male Domination" stories section... and BOOM. Instant cunt-tingle, thigh wetting material. Then that started to get good.., but not enough anymore... then welcome OH's first introduction to becomin a pain loving whore... I looked into the pain/humiliation section.... BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM (that was a bomb going off in my panties by the way!)

Then reading wasnt enough... so I looked into R/P partners online... then online Doms... then real life Dom's.

So, through all this long and rambling post... I am reminded of a joke from Robin Williams about sexual kinks to stimulate old men.. Is this the way we will be going? 0.o

"Here's what you got to do. You put a sparkler in your ass. I'll set my pubic hair on fire. You put on a German army helmet, then jump off the couch yelling "fire in the hole". That might work."

Ah... a weekend

This week seems to have dragged by!

And next week is going to be crazy busy at work... I hate a two week timetable, especially when one of the weeks is harder than the other!

I'm hoping to get a lot done this weekend... and I'm seriously worrying about a friend that is not doing very well in life at the moment... AND to top it all off, I'll be meeting up with the someone I gave you a hint about... keep your fingers (but not your legs! ;)) crossed for me!

Hope everyone out there is having a good end of week/weekend! :)

~OH

"Within the sound of silence"

Not much to say really... hence the silence.

And I'm enjoying the silence really.... "hello darkness, my old friend"

Things feel better, even though I'm alone.... though I did meet someone in passing that I hope to see again!
Should I share information about it, and risk jinxing it, or should I be mean and keep you in the dark about him? "Hello darkness, my old friend"

~OH

Anger

I am so angry!

I am NOT a puppet master - I do NOT control the actions and behavior of others. How DARE they blame ME for THEIR mistakes?!?!

And I'm feeling pissed off even more because I'M the one that has to be a professional about it! Fuck 'em.

And now I need painful, growling, scratching, rough, angry sex to get it all out of my system.... but unless a Master kicks down my door and takes me... I'll have to revert to Yoga.... anti-climatic, or what?

~OH

Cold is horrible today and damnit need to be used. I don't think my fingers have strayed far from my cunt all morning. I have fantasied from the simple and sweet, to the vile and dirty.

I am gasping for pain. I've started biting my lower lip enough to make it bleed, while I'm pinching my pussy lips and scratching my inner thigh while slowly circling my clit until its hard and sensitive - sensitive enough to flick and scratch with my nail until have to sink my dildo inside my cunt and cum around it, squeezing and milking it like would a real cock.

.... Need a Master much?

Hope you all out there are having a pleasurable (;)) weekend!

*purrs*

Works all done for tomorrow, house is warm, good film on TV and a snuggly soft blanket to cuddle under... and still I feel like shit about the cold I can feel creeping up on me :(
Hopefully it will go away soon!

I've been thinking and re-assessing things a lot this week.... reading over my posts and thinking about what I want...

I think I need to let go and be... available... for a new Dom. I'm going through the motions at the moment. It feels like I dont have anything  to look forward to during my day (especially coming home from work).... unless you count checking my blog to see if there are some nice comments for me to read...

Do I really want to go through all that again? Not really... not if I'm honest.
But there is so much I want to be able to DO for someone. I want to connect with someone again.
So much I want to give and so much I want taken from me, that I think I need to go "through all that again".

So... on the sub market, or on the sub shelf? .... who knows?

~OH

Let me entertain you... I wish....

*sigh*
I'm feeling so... tired. Tired of coming home and working and working, then cumming by my fingers or fake dick, showering and then getting into bed with a book.

Mostly I'm just moaning that its always me making myself cum. For immediate relief, its fine.

But long term, its starting to suck.

Taking reservations for people to come and entertain me!

~OH

Real submission X2

I've been thinking about my post and the replies I've had to it....

Maybe its like stages of D/s?
The start is the rules and impressing the rules - so there are orders
Then after that its keeping up with the expectations - so there are requests (requests that are going to be followed because of the extent of the training at the start)

But could it be that when you get to the stage of keeping up with expectations, that things become... dare I say... dull?

Dom's train their subs to be "perfect" subs to the Dom's they have... but then, whats the allure for the Dom once the sub has reached that? Or is it impossible for a sub to ever become that proficient?

so many questions, so little answers!

~OH

"Real" submission

I was daydreaming in the car on the drive home... thinking of some short little fuck story I could type up here to tease myself before I make myself cum later on tonight... and my musings bought me to a realization... one that really, I've known before... but in this Dom-less time, have neglected/forgotten...

Real submission isnt doing something after being ordered... its doing something after being asked.

Got to really wonder why there is the need for making demands and orders for a committed long term D/s lifestyle... unless its punishment.

Or would that be taking away some of the very obvious balance play in the relationship?

Any ideas from those out there?

~OH

"I don't think I'm beautiful. When I look in the mirror, I just see me"

"You look utterly... charming... tonight, my dear" he whispers softly, his lips brushing against the sensitive shell of my ear. I smile, pleased that he is proud of me. I shift my legs slightly, my knees starting to ache from my time kneeling on the floor before him.
"Poor slut, sore? Come, stand and look at how beautiful you look" he crooks his finger and I scramble to stand and make my way over to him.
He simply nods to the mirror and I gasp, seeing my reflection.

My hair is mused... more than mused... from his hands and fists holding my head in place while he fucked my mouth and my throat.

My eyeliner and mascara have run down my face, because of my tears as he wanked with my mouth and from the tears as he repeatedly slapped my face, demanding I open wider, that I relax my throat, that I please him more.  

My cheeks are flushed and red from the slaps from his hand and from his cock. Degrading me by rubbing his spit-soaked cock over my face. But the biggest turn on from looking at my used body in the mirror... my lips. bruised and swollen. Red and pouting. Soft and used. Covered in spit and cum that have slid from my lips down my chin and dropped onto my chest.

"You look like a proper little whore now, dont you?" He whispers naughtily into my ear. My eyes on his reflection in the mirror, I nod.

I watch, fascinated as he runs his fingers through the cum and spit on my chest.

"You act like a little whore too, dont you little one?" he murmurs gently as he rubs his cum into my nipples. Pinching and twisting them sharply when I do not answer soon enough.

"Yes!" I gasp breathlessly. My spine arching back so that the cleft of my ass cradles his cock. The more he caresses and torments my nipples, the more I grind my ass lustfully against his dick.

"Look at yourself. Look at what a desperate, horny little cunt you are" he demands and I moan loudly in need., watching my hips rub and press back, watching his hands palm my tits... squeezing until I whimper and grind harder against him, feeling his stinging slaps against my tender flesh.

"What do you want, slut?" he asks softly.

"More"

Cold

Omg... I am so cold.
My room today was 13 degrees. 13. With the heating on.
It was distractingly cold

And the worst thing about it all....
My pierced nipples were achingly hard and tingling for THE ENTIRE DAY.
I wanted to tease and torment them so badly. Pull on the rings, flicking my nipple, rubbing it with my thumb, pinching them lightly then harder and harder until they were pouting and red.... but I couldnt. It was driving me crazy. My black thong was soaked when I got home.

And of course I just HAD to play with myself when I got home... fantasizing and denying myself all day was just driving me mad.


And hot damn did it feel so good! Better if someone else were doing it... but beggars cannot be choosers!

A bit of free writing....

"Like it down there, you fuck?" he snarls. That elegantly cool face now a mask of disdain and anger.
I whimper pathetically, my cunt creaming from the pain and the malice.

He grinds his boot harder against my face, pressing it down into the grass and dirt of the garden. My head throbbing, my eyes unfocused from the pressure, the growing pressure, against my temples. Naked, the freezing night air makes me shiver and I try to curl my body around his legs for warmth. He simply laughs and grinds his boot harder against my head.

Mud and grass smeared in my hair and over my cheek from under his boot and the ground below me.

"Whats the matter, toy? Changed your mind? You wanted "more" didnt you? Didnt you beg me to hurt you more? Degrade you more? Use you more?" he jeers, his lips set in a sarcastic grin.
I open my mouth to reply, but as soon as my swollen lips part to speak, he removes his boot from my head and forces it cruelly into  my mouth. Stretching my jaw and lips.

"Lick"

My cunt clenches, dripping and begging to be used.

I hesitantly move my tongue over the polished leather over the toe of the boot, disgusted with myself for cleaning the shoe, disgusted with the taste of the dirt on them, disgusted at how much I need him to keep treating me this way.

He removes the shoe from my mouth and fists his large hands into my hair. Dragging me up chest height he slaps my cheek. The pain blooms across my face. My eyes water as the fiery red pain builds. I cant help myself from whimpering in pleasure. His eyes narrows and he slaps me again, harder.

I cry out this time. The pain throbbing and mounting. My tongue tastes blood from my split lip and I groan, sucking my lip greedily, making it sting more.

He grabs my jaw and presses his thumbs behind my teeth. Presses so hard that my teeth cut the inside of my cheek. I buck in pain. Buck in pleasure.  I need to feel his cock inside me. And he knows it. He watches my hips jerk and buck avidly while he keeps squeezing my jaw.

With a twist of his thumbs, he opens my jaw to spit inside my mouth. Immediately, I bathe my tongue in his spit.

"Your mouth is foul. God only knows what dirt was on my shoe. But you dont care, do you?" He shakes my head, my scalp burning as my hair is jerked.
"No, didnt think so. You'd happily clean my shoes with your mouth again, wouldnt you, hole?" He  nods my head, my eyes welling from the pain. The tears spilling down my dirty cheek, making a slim, pale path.

He gently traces a finger down my cheek, catching my tear and bringing it to his lips. I gasp, watching him suck his finger clean of my salty, pain-fueled tears. So intimate, him taking the evidence of my pain and submission into his body

"Delicious and mine" he smiles gently at me.

Separating your soul

Can it be done?

Can you really keep two parts of your life separate from each other?

My "online life" (as I've come to call it) is submissive.

Yet I pick a career where I have to direct 30 people to all do the same thing at the same time I ask. I cant show "weakness" (not that I think being submissive is weak, but I can imagine that in my job it would be seen as weak by the 30 people I have to co-ordinate) and must take control and be the leader....

Yes yes, I cause myself no-end of issues...

Maybe I was struggling so much because I was fighting part of my nature?

Now, when I go into work, I dont feel like myself. I feel like a different version of myself... the self I could be as a Domme if I wasnt so submissive.

If any of this makes any sense to anyone out there!



I think I just need some dirty sweaty BDSM sex......

~OH

Returning to old haunts

Hey folks.... though mostly I'm just picturing me sitting in a half furnished room talking to myself as its been so long...

Things went from bad, to worse to a meltdown.

I'm not a fan of airing dirty washing out in public, but the long and the short of it was that my new job was much harder than I expected it to be... which caused lots of stress heart ache and sleep-less nights.

I asked to be released from my Dom because I couldnt handle my work load while still providing for His needs.

I'm not "on the market" mostly because I'm only just getting into the swing of managing this job.

But I'm still here to share my thoughts and read the thoughts of others. I've missed spending the few moments it takes to read a blog and post on my own, so I'm going to try and pick up where I left off.

Keeping away from the pity party now -
I've noticed my taste running to more and more darker, meaner and more abusive fantasies/stories.  Maybe one day I will feel comfortable enough about it to share some snippits with the web... but when I am not horny, my fantasies seem to be... disturbing and wrong. (which I see as somewhat of a good thing - at least thinking back on them doesnt turn me on, they just heighten my arousal when I am ALREADY turned on).

I want to explore them further. And mean as it might sound, I think being free from any sort of relationship will help me. The only niggle I had from my previous relationship was my Dom holding back from me. Wanting me to see only the good and the gentle (unless I was being punished). I dont want that. I want to explore the dark and violence.

So, no really catchy sign off comment.... just that I'm planning on being back!

~OH

'I can't imagine anything more worthwhile than doing what I most love. And they pay me for it.'

Well, tomorrow is really the first day of work. 

Hitting the ground running. 

Talk about major stress?!  

I'm excited and nervous and worried and happy and just a swirl of a million things! 

And within all this is a dash of fear. Not because of the unknown to the day... but the fear of change. 

I've been lucky to have so much free time with Master, but that will change. 

I dont have the type of job where I can just go in, work, leave and relax at home. 

I have to bring my work home with me. 

And from experience, I know that takes up a lot of my time. 

I worry that there will be less time to be with Master. Less time to relax and play. 

I worry that there wont be time. 

wooo

I now have proper internet installed!
Now I have no excuse to not blog!

"No woman gets an orgasm from shining the kitchen floor"

Maybe not... but I just had a near miss.

It was so hard to restrain myself from cumming like a naughty little harlot.

As ordered today... when I wanted a drink, I was to pour it into a bowl, place it on the floor, get down onto my hands and knees and drink from the bowl.

My face was burning from the deep body blush I felt as I dropped down onto my knees. Feeling the hard, cooled floor under me. Dropping my back, feeling my palms on the floor. Looking down at my reflection in the water as my head moves closer to it. Moaning as I start noisily lapping at the water. My hair falling into the bowl, my face wet with water. Gripping the floor with my nails, trying to ignore the desperate twitches and shivers of my cunt. Breathing deeply, keeping my body obedient to his will.


Thank you, Master, for allowing your snowflake, your babygirl, your slave and your slut, to drink from your bowl.

Please?

"It's Topy Turvy Day!"

*grins* I enjoyed finding the title of today's post.

I flirted with the idea of something from Midsummer Night's Dream, but nothing I could find felt totally right.
The title I've picked (lyrics from Disney's "Hunchback of Notre dame, for those that are interested) doesn't fit exactly either, but its cute and fun and happy, and thats how I feel today.

I did get to speak to Master last night.
Ravaged him like some sex starved little nymph as soon as he sat down.
Eager, much?

After the steam cleared from the windows (and no, I didnt smear my hand over the steamed glass!) we got talking about Master's day...

Now, I have to stop and tell you, that Master is big on plans and order. He spends time thinking and making a plan, then he follows the plan to the letter.

.... and it didnt seem like it was following the plan. People messing up his plan for the day, things not working out, things not being very orderly.

Half in jest (great word, "jest".. must use it more!) I said something like
"It must have made you glad to know that there was one person in your day that would do what you say, when you say it"
And he agreed.

This is where the title of the post comes in.
Kinda topsy turvied me!
I need Master to make me safe by making my life run smoothly and easily.
And in that half-a-minute snapshot of conversation, it hit me.
Master needs me for the same thing. Or something similar at least.

In the most horrible or days, I cling to the knowledge that he will be there to bring me order. Thus bringing me comfort.
In Master's horrible day, he can cling to the knowledge that I will be there to follow his order. That regardless of how his plans spiral out of his control, he always has control over something.

Me.

Oh fuck I've been missing him today. He loves the place he's fixing up... but I'm feeling fucking jealous of it. Stupidfuckingbuildingkeepinghimawayfromme.... and breatheeeee.

I feel like a naughty submissive at Christmas time... before, it was "if I go to be early enough, Santa will be here soon!" now, its more like "If I'm submissive enough, then Master will be here soon!"

I've been teasing myself with submissive sex stories, wanting to be super submissive and open for him when he returns. And its either write here, or cum. As I dont have permission to cum (nor the means to ask for permission  *grumblesabouthouseanddistance*) I'm writing here.

-------------------------------------------------
"Sure, I that can be arranged..... Well, it will take some time, booking flights and packing.... Oh, excuse me, someone is at the door, I'll just be a moment"

"Come in!"

I push the door open with my nose and, like instructed, crawl into his office wearing nothing but my nipple rings. Between my teeth is the metal chain attached to my nipple clamps. I crawl over to his chair and kneel before him, resting my ass on my heels. My cheeks hot and red as I move my hands up to my chest, wrists hanging down, like a dog begging.

"No, I'm still here... no, nothing important"

He roughly kicks my knees apart, then turns back to his computer, the phone tucked against his ear.

My smooth lips are covered in my juice. I'm kneeling on the floor, begging like a dog, with nipple clamps held delicately between my teeth, being ignored by Master as "nothing important". And I'm soaked. I'm aroused. I can smell how aroused I am... and that makes me blush harder and my pussy spasm as I get wetter.

I keep my position beside his chair, but after what feels like hours, my knees start to throb. I shift a little to try and get comfortable.

slap 


I jolt and my big, worried eyes fly up to his face. My cheek stings. Not painfully so, I'm more shocked than hurt. Murmuring is agreement to something down the phone he holds out his hand and I carefully drop the nipple claps into his palm.

"I dont know, I think whatever we do should be quiet for now" He looks down at me and I nod in understanding. Quiet. Ok. I can do quiet. I think...hope.

"We dont want things happening too quickly..." I tune out the conversation as I sit, fascinated, as his fingers rub over the chain on the clamps. He motions a finger up, and I lift my torso, presenting my already hard nipples to my Master's gaze.

He grasps the nipple ring on one, and flicks and tugs it ideally while he continues to talk on the phone. My betraying hips soon start bucking into the air, my body leaning closer to him. He stops, and I want to cry out in protest. But I cant. Must be quiet. Quiet.

He lightly slaps my tits, then flicks my nipples before holding an open clamp ominously over a nipple. A hard, exposed nipple. Oh god. Watching his eyes dance in amusement and lust while he's on the phone discussing work is driving me closer. My thighs are slick from arousal, fear and anticipation.

And he waits. And waits.

I moan, ever so softly, and arch my chest towards him. Begging. Needing. What started out as a task to perform for Master is now a need.

I bite my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood when he releases his hold on the clamp and it snaps on my nipple. My back curls towards my knees as I stop from both screaming and cumming all over Masters floor.

Oh fuck it hurts. Oh god I need to cum. Shhh, quiet. Throbbing. Heat. Pleasure. Please. Shhh.

I pant and take a deep shuddering breath and correct my posture. Master covers his hand over the phone and whispers "lie on the bed and wait for the next one. Cum and your ass will be bruised for a week" then he uncovers the phone and continues his conversation, like nothing has happened.

I crawl to the door and moan. The other nipple clamp is still attached to the chain and is dragging on the floor, tugging on the one attached to my throbbing nipple.

I hope his phone call doesn't last long...

-------------------------------------------------
I jump as something touches my skin.
With the thick heavy hood over my head, I cant see, cant hear, cant speak, only feel.
I relax as his hand rubs along my cooled, naked leg. I scoot my butt closer to his warmth, but my arm is yanked back from the short length of heavy chain keeping me against the wall.

I growl at the chain and jerk my arm, knowing its futile, but needing to be close to him.
He laughs and pulls the key out of his pocket and drags it over my heaving chest.
Like his slut, I press closer against it. Because its attached to him.

He opens the mouth section of my hood. I open it to tell him how grateful I am, and he forces his already hard dick into my mouth. After a moment of hesitation, I moan deeply and suck hungrily. My mouth the only thing that matters to him. I tighten my lips and suck harder, spit filling my mouth and sliding down my chin. He pulls my head closer to his crotch and I gag loudly, making him fuck my hole harder. I swallow him down as much as I can. His dick forcing its way down my unworthy throat.

My whole world is sucking his dick. And I love it

"Feelings, nothing more than feelings"

I've looked at the blank screen for over 30 minutes.
I dont know what to say. Or rather, I dont know how to word it. I dont know how to really explain how I'm feeling.

My cunt tingles and throbs at things my head revolts and fights against.
Things like: objectification, pregnancy, loss of identity, slavery.

My body shouldn't react like that. I shouldn't want these things. Secretly or not.

I love sex. Pleasure. Sensuality. Sensations. I've never had hangups about my sexual tastes. Never felt... alternative and deviant about the lifestyle I live and enjoy.
Maybe because I see what I do as the more "softcore" version of the whole BDSM thing. So then anything above that is the "real" deviant and hardcore sexuality.

Creepily enough, Master told me that his darkest fantasy would be to have me naked and chained in his basement. No windows. No light. No clocks. Just him using me when he has need of me.
I honestly thought he'd read yesterdays blog and was teasing me with the "forbidden" but he hadnt seen my blog.

It was hard enough battling against my head and my cunt... but he was using me and my body was simmering and burning for him. So it washed over me. It wormed its away into my head and sat their, like a little dark shadow.

Later on in the evening, Master had need of me again and I was riding the edge of cumming for so long. I needed something. Something more. Something darker. Then like floating black silk that idea came back. And wouldnt leave. And I needed it so badly.

I have never felt so humiliated.

Asking and begging him to tell me things that I know... that he knows.... frightens me.

When ever I've been called "slut" I've never questioned it. The things I will do for his pleasure and my pleasure class me as being slutty - and therefore a slut - in the dictionary in my head.

But I think wanting and physically craving what scares me really does make me a slut.

Talking

I'm having trouble talking to Master.
I dont mean about issues or about relationships.
I mean.. right now.

Some bad things happened and I feel guilty over it (coupled with indiscretions last night and Master being ill) and I feel really... submissive.

My mouth has gotten me into trouble. So if I take my mouth out of the equation, then I can be... better.
And its kinda.. freeing... to not speak. I can focus more on the physical intimate things rather than whats coming out of my mouth.

I feel kinda pet like. Like my mouth is only going to please, not cause trouble.

"A schedule defends from chaos and whim"

I like this quote.
I like it because it made me think.
I like thinking... makes me feel less frivolous.

Mostly, I agree with the quote. Especially in a D/s relationship. Having my time ordered and scheduled helps me. It takes away the pressures of making a choice, takes away the agonizing mystery of the day. When I feel lost, I can look to a schedule and know what I need to do, where my day is going next, what is suitable for me to put my time and energy into doing.

Now, this is where the thinking comes in *winks*

Submitting to a schedule made by someone else means I am submitting to THEIR chaos and whim. Maybe less of their chaos... but certainly their whim.
He makes the schedule. He edits the schedule. He adds to it. He takes away from it.
I follow it.

Nothing "defends" me from his chaos and whim.
Is there really much of a difference from his chaos and whim and the chaos and whim of my day without him in it?
Maybe someone out there has an answer to that question. I hope someone does. Sitting here at my waxed pine desk (newly built by moi in my new flat) looking out the window at the dismal weather isn't helping me answer the question.

Does the question even matter? Again, I dont know. Maybe someone else does.

*wakes from a day dream and smiles*
Maybe the point of all this is that I want more of my life scheduled. I dont know. Sometimes the theory and the practice don't mesh as well as one would hope.
There is a lot I dont know. But there are things I do know. And I do know that I like the thought of checking my email or google docs or something like that, and seeing how he's planned my day. What is scheduled for me. Something that I know he's taken time to think about. Taken time to update for me. Something I can follow and at the end of the day, know that the day has gone well because I followed everything on the list.

The dark side of my submission wants everything scheduled. Times. Dates. Food. Drink. Bathroom breaks. Activities. Thoughts.

But that's also the side that wants me to quit my job, ignore friends and family and sit chained to a wall, only to be let out for his use, then put back in the chains until I can be useful to him again.

Fun to think about and fun to dream, but let her out and listen to me scream.
Maybe I should add another chain to the box keeping her contained.
Caged, not tamed.

I still like the slightly diluted version of her scheduling. Knowing he's updated my day, that I dont know what he has planned until he allows me to see it. Anticipation. Then being able to follow the schedule.

Letting him think for me.

Strange places and new homes

I moved house a few days ago.
I didnt realise how much stuff I had until I had to drive it down to my new flat.
(Mostly) Unpacked now... just a few things to sort out and unpack.
I tell you what, I dont want to do this anytime soon!
Call gas, electric, water, TV, internet, phone, council....
Buy stuff! So much stuff!
Talk about hassle!!!

But.... I have my own space now.
Somewhere I can work, relax and submit to Master.

I didnt realize how much I missed posting my rambling thoughts on here until I couldn't do it.
Nor how much I would miss reading the posts of others on here! I missed you guys!

So, let the rambling continue!

Do you....

.....do anything odd to show your submission?

I'm not talking about something you have been told/ordered/strongly requested to do, I mean just something little and personal to you that you just feels right to do?

I ask this seemingly random question because I've been doing something similar for a number of days now.

I've worn a necklace (like in the picture) for years and years.



It is not another mans mark of ownership. But it was a gift given to me by a male friend, who is no longer with us anymore. I've never really had it off my neck. My homage and remembrance to him, I suppose.


Until a few weeks ago. I was talking to Master and playing with it (absentmindedly as I have a habit of doing) and impulsively, I took it off.

It had not been back around my neck for over a week now. I felt very bare without it on. I feel very bare without it on. I've tried other necklaces, but they feel uncomfortable: too heavy, too big, too shiny...


I put it back on this morning and it wasnt right.

Something of Master's should be close to my heart, near to my head and against my exposed neck.

Never having spoken to Master about this, I dont know what his view would be.
I dont think he would have minded one way or the other what I wore around my neck. Not yet anyway. I'm sure he would/will start to control the littler things more and more as time passes. But for now, I dont think he would have minded if I wore the same necklace every day or if I wore no necklace or if I changed my necklaces every fourth day in a bi-monthly cycle.

It feels odd to not have anything around my neck, but it feels more right to keep it bare for him.

A Test Of Friendship (1)

"Its all very simple" began Rich, the first of the two Dom's.

"We're going to please you" You continue, grinning down wickedly at the two rope-bound submissives at your feet.

"Oh yes, with all sorts of things. Dicks, vibes, tongues, fingers, wands, whips... all sorts of things in all sorts of ways"

"And we're even allowing you to cum! Kind of us, dont you think, sluts?"

Kerry and I nod quickly, flicking our glances between our Dom's and each other. I squirm against my ropes, my needy cunt already wet. My lips swollen and wet from anticipation and humiliation. Seeing Kerry bound and helpless at her Master's feet makes my clit start to throb, my nipples tighten.

Fingers jerk at my nipple rings, the pain shocking and immediate.

"Pay attention, whore" you growl, pulling my hair sharply so my ear is close to your mouth. Your fingers become gentle and you hold me in your lap, stroking over my bound and sensitive tits, rolling my nipples between your fingers, whispering dark dirty thoughts in my ear. Commenting on how hot and how wet my cunt is.

You stand suddenly and my body falls limp against the floor, my breathing erratic, my thighs trying to move to ease the ache, the tingle, the need in my clit.

"Now that we are all paying attention...." Rich admonishes. "Like we were saying... your fully allowed to cum. In fact, we encourage it"

You both grin at each other and my pussy gushes.

"When one of you cums, the other will be punished. Just how good a friendship do you sluts have?"

I stare at you, in lust filled horror. Your reply is merely a grin and a nod.

The look on Kerry's face would have been funny, if we didnt share the same expression. Lust. Horror. Need. Disparate. Confused.

I watch as Rich kneels between Kerry's bound-spread legs and starts to slowly lap at her clit. I watch, in voyeuristic fascination as the very tip of his tongue laves her juicy slit. Watching her back arch, tits in offering to her Master, her eyes tightly closed in pleasure while her hands clench into a fist.

I jump as you rub your fingers over my cunt, your fingers glistening, slick with my juices. Your thumb rubs over my clit. I moan loudly, twisting my head to watch Kerry, trying to ignore the pleasure.

"Oh no, little cunt, look at me. Look at your Master pleasing your cunt. Look at me" I moan and push my hips against your fingers, feeling your part my lips and slide smoothly inside me. I clench around you, making you chuckle.

"You could cum you know. I can feel how badly you need it. How quickly you respond to me. And you know how good it will feel. You have my permission to cum"

I strain against myself. Body slowly giving in, even though my mind wants to refuse.

"I think my whore is going to cum at any moment..... how are you going to punish yours?" Rich asks casually.

My head snaps to look at Kerry. Oh fuck... she looks so hot. She really is so desperate. Her face and chest flushed, her body in a sheen of sweat, her knuckles white, bottom lip caught between her teeth. Her body is arched up against her Master, his hand pumping a vibe in and out of her ass while a finger rubs over her clit.
Oh shit. She's going to cum.

"three, two...." Rich chants.... tauntingly.

The room fills with the sounds of Kerry screaming into her gag. Her body shaking and convulsing, bucking and writhing against her Master. I watch as he winks at me, his fingers slowing on her clit while he takes the wet sticky vibe out of her used cunt and presents it for her to lap clean.

You look down at me and tut, shaking your head, pulling the slim cane out of a bag and swishing it through the air, so I can see, hear and fear it.

"Poor little slut, none of the pleasure, but all of the pain"

...

His

"Life is a roller coaster, just gotta ride it"

Up, down, corkscrew, upside down, acceleration, stop, hang, drop, scream, jump, twist, turn, breathe.

I'm not a huge fan of pop songs. I'm a more rock/metal/alternative fan myself.... but I cant help identifying to the lyrics of today's title.

Life really is. So many things that happen so quickly, changing how you feel, how fast you travel, what direction you go in.

Tonight has really been a roller coaster for me... no.... for us. And I dont use the term "roller coaster" loosely either. How we are still together, I dont really know. Too stubborn to stop? Maybe. Too stubborn to realize it wont really work? Maybe. Going to enjoy it, regardless of where it goes? Defiantly.

So, thinking about roller coasters.... how many are there? Hundreds? Thousands?
They are all so different. Fast, slow, long, short, bends, straights, trains, cars, tea cups, horses, ghosts, swans.... and more.

What do all these rides have in common?

It doesn't seem like they would have anything in common at all. Some for kids, some for adults, some for thrill seekers, some for lovers.... what can all these have in common?

Safety.

All of these rides are safe. They have been checked, double checked, triple checked. They are maintained to keep them safe. There are rules and regulations to keep them completely safe for everyone.

If life is a roller coaster, then he's my safety. Because of him, I can hold my hands above the rail. I can kick and scream and enjoy the ride because he's the safety bar, the safety strap, the rigorous regulations to make sure everything is safe. 

But... on a more realistic note.... that doesnt mean it doesnt FEEL precarious and dangerous.... but thats half the fun!

"Now, bring me that horizon"

Tomorrow is the last day of my trial period.

I still feel off kilter from my time away from him.
Before I went away, I'd be sitting here not worried, not concerned, not doubting.
But it was hard being out of our bubble.
Our time together here during my holiday has been... well... a holiday.
Its been easy and its been fun. More than fun really. But its been a special situation.

Life is going to begin again. My time away was like marking the start of that. A taster.
What if I have to stay at work late? I'm new there, so what if I get invited out at the last minute? What if someone comes over unexpectedly? What if I want to meet up with old friends?
What if, what if, what if, what if, what if.

I'm terrified about tomorrow.

Home and Away

Well... I've just returned from a trip to a friends house for a surprise party.
Wow.... as if a LDR isnt hard enough... you then have to split yourself a million ways so a LDR becomes like another LDR.
And so much happened!
I'd been talking to Master about getting a female genital piercing. I was looking into a vertical clitoral hood piercing (VCH) and after a day "away" from Master, decided I'd go into the piercing shop I had my nipples done a year before and get it done! Talk about fast acting huh?

I'd been researching VCH piercings for days before and knew the back up piercing I wanted (a horizontal clitoral hood [HCH]) and I was all set... pussy and legs all smooth, mind preped... went in, saw the guy, spread my legs, felt him (oh yes, a him) sorting the area out and..... no piercing. To say I was gutted was an understatement. I had so wanted this mark on my body for Master.

Apparently, I'm a very "rare woman"... my clit hood is very vascular which means that I couldnt get either of the clit hood piercings. And then... the piercer says "but you could have your clit pierced" 

Time out.... from my reading, I know that being able to actually have your clit itsself pierced is like... hardcore and rare.... Like... this is having a blue steak kinda rare.... like only 5% of women can get the clit its self pierced.

I felt like a bit of a freak.... I mean, I couldnt even have the most common clithood piercing done! I just want to be the "normal" in the majority! But I'm not. The female piercer/secretary had a chat with me about the piercing and telling me about her best friend who had her clit done and gave me some information on it. Which was great, this place is really good and I feel even better about it after the chat we had.

So now, I'm seriously considering it. Both male piercers have successfully done clit piercings before and they know what they are doing. I'm still on the fence about it... I love piercings... but... if this goes wrong... thats my clit!
Buuuut... those that have had it done and its been done properly have nothing by great things to say about having it pierced... so I need to keep thinking. I'm sure once I stop thinking "OMG I cant believe I have a clit that could have that" then I'm sure I'll be able to decide!

So not only did I not have as much structure from him (because it was a very dynamic situation) but ALSO I couldnt get my Masters mark... so I was a bratty, catty and pissy girlie.

THEN! I had the migraine from hell yesterday. And I think that was caused by the amount of smoke and smokers I have been around for the past 3 days. So last night was pretty much the lowest of the low.

Funny how the past few days were basically the same way I lived before I got into this relationship.
As my trial period is coming to a close, I cant believe I lived like that. Not knowing what was happening from one hour to the next, being bombarded with choices and just.... being alone in a sea of choices.

But I'm home now.

Back to my new safe, happy and submissive normal.

"Is it a rebellion?" asked Louis XV

Fuck yes!

Rebellion, uprising or insurrection, is a refusal of obedience or order.

Now, you can talk about boundaries and hard lines and limits until the cows come home. As a sub, I have very few boundaries and would do almost anything if Master's desire for it was strong enough.... but... and I mean BUT!

Master suggested Yoga.... ok fine, sounds kinda fun. And I'm sure would help with the little aches and pains that I live with and just accept. Ok, so Yoga. Fair enough. I'm never going to be the worlds greatest, but he's improving my life and this is just another way of expressing that. I like it.

What I am emphatically against is (when work starts) getting up an extra 30 minutes early so I can roll around on the floor listening to some poncy woman talking to me about "feeling through my feet" "quieting my lower back" and some other mumbo jumbo. I dont care how soothing her voice is!

So, last night there was a rebellion.
I love my bed. I really do. Its just the most snuggly and soft and warm place on earth! And its all warm and cozy in there in the morning. Some days, I feel like I will start sobbing because I have to leave it! Oh my god and the pillows! Dont even let me get started on those little clouds of heaven. Yes, HEAVEN!

And do you think he cared one jot? Pffft, of course not.

Sadist.

So, its holiday time and I'm getting used to doing the Yoga... first time doing it this morning.
Are you supposed to feel sleepy after it?

Lord help me if I continue to feel sleepy! I'll be a mess at work.

....maybe this would be good grounds to move the Yoga to after work?!

Finding the perfect word

Used. Used. Usssed.
Isnt that a wonderful word?
A quick google search defines it as;

1. To employ for some purpose; put into service; make use of
2. To avail oneself of; apply to one's own purposes
3. To expend or consume in use
4. To treat or behave toward
5. To take unfair advantage of; exploit

Oh yes... I've been used. In every definition of the word. Used.

Master has used my mouth, cunt, nipples, ass and mind. 

I followed his orders so that he may use me for his pleasure. 

Manipulate me. 

Direct me.

Control me. 

Use me.

I'm not worried about him leaving now. Being so possessed and so used fills that empty part of me. 

Yes, he could use someone else for his pleasures. 

But he wont.

If he is proud of me, then I can be proud of myself. If he can love me, then I can love myself. If he can boast about me, then I can boast about myself. 

So, though part of me rebels at the thought of typing this, the rest of me knows its true. 

I bring him something that no-one else can or will. And I'm damn proud of that. 

He's staked his claim over all of me.... so I'm staking my claim over a little part of him (and no... I'm not thinking about his cock... which I am now that I've said cock... but I had his heart in mind... now I'll have to claim a bigger part of him.... well, you all get the idea!). 

Mine. Hands off ladies. 

So, though this long and rambling post I've got nothing but positives to say. 

I have been used and he is just as much mine as I am his.... Nothing could be more perfect. 

Pushmi-pullyu

Ah... a walk down memory lane.... unfortunately, I dont mean the sweet pushmi-pullyo from that awesome 1967 Doctor Dolittle....


I mean that feeling where you'd rather have a night "off" from being a sub and just snuggle and relax with no other agenda, wanting some personal space, wanting things to be more.. dare I say... Vanilla?
Then suddenly, something is about to change and you dont want it to. You want more than you ever let yourself consider before. You want to be totally consumed and you want to be with them all the time.

Your pushed and pulled in different directions.


What was that song.... "Leave me alone (I'm lonely)"?

I've got that.
I get petrified at the thought of talking on the phone (I abhor talking on the phone at the best of times!) and now that he might be leaving, all I want to do is hear his voice.
I get petrified at the thought of seeing him face to face and now I just want to book a ticket.

Which is real? Which do I really want?

I want him to tell me. I think, I need him to tell me.

Dreams

Last night I had a strange dream... maybe someone out here knows what it means....

I'm on a black house phone. I'm sitting on the couch in my new house and I'm listening to Master talking to me. During the dream, his voice sounded so like him... but now that I'm awake, I dont know how it sounded - I've never heard his voice.

I feel happy about what he's saying to me (not that I can remember what it is) and the happy feeling is good.... but I'm sitting there and my mouth is stitched closed. Big black thick leather tonging-style thread stitched just above my top lip and then just below my bottom lip.

Good dream? Bad dream? Random dream?

"Creativity is piercing the mundane to find the marvelous"

I'm sat, reclined slightly, on a leather chair.

I cant tell much more than that; my wrists are bound tightly in front of me and the black leather hood has been placed over my head. 

Master lead me here some time ago and I've remained still in the chair.

I dont know where he is or where I am. So I stay quiet and I stay still. 

I jump as a hand roughly forces my thighs apart. Each one is pressed against the sides of the chair and tied against it. My bare, smooth cunt displayed for anyone to see. Already I'm wet. Deprived of some senses, bound and exposed. 

I feel his hands on my shoulders, a heavy, comforting presence, keeping me against the chair. Then.... another set of hands spreads my cunt. I jerk in shock. Masters hands tighten painfully on my shoulders until I whimper and sag back against the chair. 

The stranger keeps probing my cunt, brushing my clit a little, making me shake and try to writhe against the chair. A hand slaps the inside of my thigh. I quieten down.. 

I hear the murmurs and mumbles of the men talking, their words indistinguishable through the hood. 

Masters hand tangles in my hair and he pulls, forcing me to arch my neck back. His lips play against my collarbone his tongue flicking out over my skin and making me tingle. 

And then, his hand....

OUCH!!

Fuck!

I jerk as a sharp sudden pain in my cunt blooms through me. Its over almost before it began, but I squirm and buck against the restraints. 

Masters hand rubs soothingly over my back, calming me and keeping me still. I settle. 

The voices move away and I'm left in dark silence. 

Someone returns and the hood is taken off. I blink against the garish light and when I focus, Master is...beaming.. down at me. I blink in confusion and he nods his head down. I follow my eyes down my body, blushing, knowing that a stranger saw my bare, spread pussy.

I gasp... theres a... oh... its... shiney... beautiful! I twist as much as I can so I can see the gold ring resting against my clit. I cant take my eyes off it. Its so beautiful. So... Him. Having him mark me. 

Something I will always have as a reminder of him. 

The Test

I'm sitting at the bar of the pub he told me to wait for him in.
I'm feeling a little nervous; I've never been in here before and it seems a bit rougher than the types of places we've ever visited.

The leather on the seats is so old its become hard and cracked. The back of my thighs sticking to the creaking bar stool.
I'm wearing the skirt he ordered. The bra he likes. The blouse he wanted. The high black heels that make me clutch his strong arms before I trip over. I'm wearing the make up he likes. My hair, longer now at his order, is loose and shiney. I'm even sitting in the seat he requested I take. Sitting, one leg crossed over the other, like he ordered.

I finger the rim of the drink set down infront of me. I try to ignore the water-marks on the glass. I look at my watch. 3.55.

I check my messages on my phone, making sure I've not forgotten anything, trying to ignore the dark corners and the smoke.

Clothes and make up - check.
Bar - creepy seedy check.
4pm - nearly check.
Wait - check.

The group of men on the other side of the bar laugh loudly and I jump. The bar tender chuckles, obviously having seen my stupid display of nerves. I flush and look down at my nails. Tart red. I take a sip of my drink. 3.57.

I twitch my foot. I dont want to be here. Rather, I dont want to be here alone. He'll be along in a minute. I let out a breath slowly between my teeth. 3.59.

I twist in my seat and watch the door. He'll be here.

One of the men from the group breaks away and heads to the bar. He's quite attractive really. Brown hair, green eyes, stuble, tall. Not bad really.

4.01

Traffic. He'll be here.

4.03

4.05

My heart is starting to pound faster.

4.06

My breathing is getting shallow.

4.08

The men laugh louder and another man stumbles over to the bar. He's geering and shouting to his friends and stands pretty close to my stool, leaning heavily on the bar. I try not to breathe in... smoke and stale alcohol is not the scent I like. I smile dreamily remembering how Master smells. How I press my face against his neck and breathe in deeply, feeling warm and safe.

"So, what you doing in here, alone no less?" the guy drawls, reaching behind him and dragging a stool closer. I shrink back.

Breathing rapidly, I bite my lower lip. My stomach is jumping and twisting around its self. My thoughts are scrambled, unfocused.
I feel too exposed. 4.11.
No safety net. 4.14

The man leers and leans closer to me, resting his sweaty palm on my thigh. I slide my leg away, shuddering as his hand drags across my legs.

Where is he? Is he ok? Did something go wrong at work? Why isnt he here? My stomach feels like its jerking. My blood feels like its stop starting to my heart. My heart feels like its tap dancing. My panic starting to build up. My eyes darting from the man to the door.

I feel so small. So lost here. Out of my depth, out of my comfort zone. So alone.

I'm so lost in my panic, that I hardly notice the creep wrapping his arm around me. All I can see is the clock. All I can hear is the clock. All I want is him. Him. Him.

A cough behind me startles me and I turn. My eyes are wide and frightened. Panicked. Another voice. Another person. More noise. I want to bolt.

I feel a hand tug mine. I'm so panicked that I dont recognise the feel of that hand. I spin around on the chair, trying to escape the creepy drunk. I look up and its Master.

I feel so overwhelmed to see him. I'm still panicked, but now I'm crying. I can feel the at first warm, then cooling slide of tears down my cheek. He smiles and uses his thumb to wipe the tear away.

"You can go now. I know all I need to know" he says, watching my eyes.
The bloke nods and moves away back to the group of guys.
"I wouldnt leave my most cherished possession in a place like this without someone watching over her. Come on now babygirl, you dont need to worry now that I'm here"

He's right, I fall apart when he's not around. Some people depend on alcohol or drugs. I depend on him.

He leans towards me and wraps me up in his arms, whispering "I'm so proud of you"

Pondering

I've been in a slightly detached mood today. 

I've not been playing up (that I know about), but nor have I been my enthused and eager self. 

I'd follow his instructions and do as he wished, but it feels like I'd be doing it slightly mechanically. 

I think I need something to kick start my brain and libido today... any suggestions out there? 

"We sleep safe in our beds because rough men stand ready in the night to visit violence on those who would do us harm"

I like pain. No denying it or hiding it.
I like that my Master is intimidating. I like that he wants to hurt me. That he enjoys hurting me. I like that he's not whiter than white. I like that he has scars. I like that he knows how to handle himself.

He doesnt want to bring that side to me... but how do you prove to someone that their darker side is just as hot (if not hotter) than the rest of their personality?

"you like that I'm a thug, dont you?" - Yes I do. Patient and reasonable until he's pushed too far, then he'd have no qualms about hurting anyone that's threatening something he feels protective over.

Do I want to be beaten bloody by him? 
No, not really. I want him to hurt me, but not brake bones or cause lasting damage.
Do I want him to go around beating others?
No. The thought of the damage he could do to someone makes me feel a little sick.
Do I want to watch him beat someone?
Hell no. I'd be so worried about him, about them, about what would happen.
Do I like hearing the things he's done?
Yes. Twisted, wrong and sick... maybe. But I like what I like. I like hearing about how he's fought and emerged the Alpha. How could I not find that sexy? How could I not rub my clit thinking about his Dominance?

I like knowing he's stronger and braver than anyone he's had run-ins with.
I like knowing he's stubborn and aggressive.
I like knowing that he'd protect those that cant protect themselves.
I like knowing that he can hurt someone and then cuddle me up in his arms.

Some little girls dream of handsome princes with pretty horses and lots of money.
I dreamed of pirates with bloody swords keeping women.
Bikers in leathers and bruised knuckles, arms around beautiful tough women.
Soldiers dirty and bloody coming home to pretty wives in floaty dresses and heels.
Mob bosses beating traitors and then taking their wife and children out to a classy meal.

Wrong? Abhorrent? Maybe it is.

But I like what I like... and I like him, especially this side of him.

Fucking punishment

"Do you see this?" you ask, holding up the long wicked looking knife in front of my face.

I nod and bite my lower lip. I want to talk, but kneeling before you naked while your fully clothed makes me feel small and helpless. Your height intimidating me. The tone of your voice... the look on your face...

I lower my head and shrink down as close as I can to the floor.

"No. Look at me, slut. Now" you growl. I flinch but raise my head, looking past the blade to your eyes.

I feel the tip of the blade move down my collarbone and over my chest. I hold my breath and keep watching your face. Your eyes.

With a savage shake of your head, you throw the blade into the headboard.

You step towards me and grab be by the throat, squeezing tightly and lifting me up. I try to follow as quickly as I can, but its not fast enough for you. You keep pulling me hard until I'm stumbling to my feet. Releasing my throat and pushing me from the center of my chest. I try to grab your arm, but you move back away.

I fall back on the bed, breathing hard. I'm worried and fearful, but I know you wont really hurt me. I know you want the best for me. It makes it all so much worse.

"Get on all fours, like the bitch you are"

I scramble to follow your commands, but its no fast enough and you yank my legs so hard I cry out. Your hands wrapped around my leg are strong and tight and I know I'll be bruised in a few hours.

You kneel behind me and grip hold of my hips, your fingers and nails biting into the soft skin over the bone.

"I'm going to fuck the obedience into you. Its going to be hard, its going to be painful and you will get absolutely no pleasure from it. This is a punishment"

You push the head of your dick against my cunt, the only warning I get before you force your entire length inside me. I grit my teeth to stop from making a noise. I want to be unnoticed and used. Wanting for this to end so it can be ok again.

Your fucking me so hard my knees are being pushed back and forth against the sheets. My hips hurting from your fingers, my cunt uncomfortable and sore.

"Is this what you wanted, cunt?"

I shake my head. Never.

You grab my hair, jerking my neck back. My eyes watering instantly from the sharp twisting pain.

Your voice is close to my ear, I can feel your warm breath against my fear-heated skin.

"Then you should have fucking behaved, shouldnt you?"

I try to answer and you roughly nod my head for me, fresh tears spilling down my cheeks.
Suddenly, you force my head forward, my knees slipping out of position, my nose close to the blade.

"Look at it. Keep your eyes focused on that damn blade until your punishment is over. Your not to even blink " 
I watch the blade, seeing the light dance along its surface. The twisted reflection of us fucking. Your hand still pressing me to it.

I feel you swell inside me and I tighten around you, desperate to make you feel as good as possible, but just before I can finish the thought, you pull out of me and cum against my back.

I feel so hollow and gutted.
This isnt going to work. I'm never going to make things ok. My tears start up again, sobs wracking my body and making me shiver.

You get off the bed to clean up and I curl into the smallest ball I can, my face pressed against the sheets, hiccuping sobs whimpering through my teeth. My body feels sore and used. I thought it would feel better than this. Cleaner. Cleansed.

I hear the door open and try to pull myself together. I feel your hands rubbing a warm cloth over my back and I cry harder. You quietly clean me up, take the cloth away and come back, reclining back on the bed, rolling me against you where I press close to you, my tears a slow trickle against your chest.

You rub my sore head and we lie quietly for hours.

"I'm sorry, Master" I whisper into the darkness.

The artistic way of living instead of complaints and whines

Question; What do you do when the thing that's causing you so much pain and angst is something you know will hurt your Master to discuss?

Answer; Something stupid that makes it worse.

Stupid stupid stupid

You learn to love the pain you feel

Locked outside my house for an hour gave me plenty of time to think....
-------------------------------------------------

I wake up to a ache in my shoulder. Groaning, I twist my body and pull my arms down to my sides. But they don't move. I open my eyes to see whats going on. But they don't open. I swing my legs out to sit up. But they don't move.

Trapped. Pinned to the bed. Its all dark. I lick my lips.

"Sir?" I whisper. I don't hear any reply.

"Sir?" louder, more panicked.

"Shut it" a voice growls by my ear. I jerk and rub my skin on the bindings, making me gasp.
A strong finger presses firmly against my lips. Then presses my lips against my teeth until my mouth is forced open. The pain in my lip first sharp, then a pleasurable pulsing.

The finger in my mouth rubs over my teeth. I can imagine how slaves being sold in markets would feel having someone inspect their teeth. How humiliating. It is humiliating. Before his finger starts rubbing my tongue, I'm wet. A second finger moves into my mouth, both rubbing along the roof of my mouth, moving to the back, making me gag and cough.

This doesnt stop them. They press deeper against my mouth, rubbing the back of my throat, making me gag again. Again. Again. Another joins them, my mouth parted wide, jaw starting to ache as my mouth is being fucked by his fingers. More gagging. Over and over. I know my cunt is dripping and I vaguely hope he doesn't notice. He will. He always does.

The fingers are removed from my mouth and I close my mouth, trying to relax my jaw.

SLAP!

The pain of a palm hitting my cheek makes me cry out in pain. Already my cheek is throbbing, the skin burning and my eyes starting to water.

"Did I tell you to close?" he asks, almost conversationally. My breathing is quick and heavy, my jaw aching, my cheek throbbing. I'm a naked, wet, mess. And he sounds totally unfazed.

I shake my head and open my mouth.

"Better, but you should have really just done it right the first time, shouldn't you?"

I nod.

I hear a high pitched "swish" in the air and before I can even finish my thought, the thin, hard edge of the cane hits onto my bare, expose pussy. The pain intense, the red welt blooming on the sensitive skin. My back arching up off the bed, screaming, for him.

"Next one" He sounds amused. I feel worried.

The beat of the flogger against the same tender skin. Then the cane, then the flogger, then the cane..... Over and over one after the other.

Going from screams, tears and bucking to get away to arching up to meet the strokes, moaning in pleasure, tears dried and my body relaxed and shivering, trying not to cum. Endorphin's and his voice making me throb in time with his beatings.

He stops, dropping the toys to the floor and rests his hand on my cunt. I moan and whimper. His body heat adding to my burning skin. I know his hand is gentle, but it hurts. It hurts so good.

He trails his fingers down my thighs and over my foot, making me giggle and wriggle.

The binding on my legs is removed and trails his fingers back up my leg, over to my wet pussy then up over to my chest, sliding up my chin to my lips and over my eyes where the blindfold is removed.

I smile and blink up at him. His answering grin melts my heart.
He leans forward, his hand grasping my chin and tilting it away from him, exposing my neck and my ear.

His breath against me makes me shiver.

"When I fuck that cunt later, slut, your going to be crying and begging me to stop. I'm going to use you and I'm going to take great pleasure in hurting that cunt again and again"

One step forward, two steps back

Yesterday felt like I was going backwards in this whole process.
Some old demons reared their heads and caused me to forget the most important thing.... Him.

And then today I was falling apart. It was a tough day for me with so much going on, so much changing, so much out of my control.... I wanted him to come in and just save me.

So... maybe I'm not going as backwards as I thought?

Primping and preening

Rather than give me a mass of information, Master is slowly drip feeding me new instructions and new rules.
Sometimes I wish he would tell me everything all at once so I can swim in his Dominance. Feeling it curl around me and washing over me.
But he knows me well enough now to know I would initially freak. So slowly it is...

Last night, Master was telling me about the physical appearance he wants his property to have;
Long hair, painted nails (fingers and toes matching), smooth pussy, matching bra and panties (when panties are permitted).

Its not that I don't agree or want to rebel at these things... but I couldn't stop thinking or asking "why?"

Why wear clear nail varnish when bare nails looks practically the same?
Why look ratty with hair thats being grown out?
Why wear matching sets of underwear?... no-one is going to see it.

Its not that I'm a slob... far from it.... I just dont primp myself when I'm going to be home alone. For work and going out, of course I make the effort - I do have some personal pride in myself... but the naggy little details all the time, everyday? *sigh* it just seems like such a waste of time.

And then I stopped myself... "such a waste of time"?
If I'm going to think like that... then whats the point in having this relationship?
I have to worry about those "naggy little details" when I'm talking to Sir anyway... so what makes this any different?

So, like the good little girl, I painted my finger and toe nails the same colour.
And you know what?

I feel all the better for it.

It's all a joke until someone gets serious

Don't you hate it when a joke becomes the basis of a serious conversation?

I've been having horrible pains and cramps today which have been making me feel pretty shitty.
Master has been so... sweet about making sure I feel as well as I can (not that I think he would like being called "sweet" not my big strong Master!)

I was joking around (and he knew it was a joke) saying I need to get a booty call to someone to come and rub away the cramps... and then the joke stopped and the serious conversation began.

If I had someone (I think he was specifically thinking of a man) rubbing my tummy and legs and cramp places, he described exactly what would happen for that... bound tight enough to cause bruises, my ass beat until it bleeds, then wrap his hand around my neck and beat my tits until they also bleed.

Then he'd untie me, sit me down, explain how I hurt him and how he feels... and then he would just walk away.

The entire conversation I just wanted to be sick.
I wanted to be sorry for something I hadnt done... and will never do.
I wanted to crawl into a ball and just cry.
I wanted to hold onto his leg and not let go.
I wanted the conversation to just be erased and not to think about anything bad happening.

Not even a week in... and the thought of loosing him, the thought of pushing him away has me a wreck.
And that's scary.
I thought this trial period would have a "honeymoon and getting to know you" time, then get into him taking my head and heart and soul.

Goes to show how much I know! Goes to show how much control I've had to have over my own life! I'd planned my interaction with my new Owner! D'oh.

I think my reaction to all this has just removed another link in my chain and has drawn me even closer to him. My head is so full of him I write little stories about us... little lists of things he says that I love.
My heart is being tangled up in his will and soon I wont be able to tell whats his and whats mine.
My soul... well.. I dont really know about that... I think he keeps brushing against it and soon he'll just be able to pull it right out.

I can't wait.

Seemingly Unusual Gift

Alas, this is only the workings of a horny, needy sluts mind.... oh how I wish it were real!
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His voice caressed my ear on the phone.

"Now babygirl, your going to be good for me, arn't you?"

I nod, whispering "Yes, Daddy. I always want to be good for you"

"Thats my girl" he coos, his voice deep, growling possessevly over the "my". I can feel my heart in my cunt as it throbs for him. Because of him.

"I'm sending you something in the mail. You are to wear it everyday from the day it arrives. Is that clear, slut?"

I'm shivering with desire. I rub my thighs together and already I'm so wet for him.

"My collar, Sir?" I ask eagerly. I've been dreaming of wearing his dominance on my skin. Feeling the pleasurable weight of his ownership around my neck. Even just having something he has touched. Craving any connection to him.

His chuckle vibrates my clit, even down the telephone line.
"No babygirl. You'll have to wait longer for that reward. Think of this as a warm up"

As expected, a few weeks after the phonecall a package arrived; two small pink vibrating sex eggs. I look at the packaging "Wireless vibrating sex eggs. Wireless range up to 20 metres. Six amazing settings". In my head, I purr. Sounds fun. I look through the box... and dont find the remote.

I frown, wondering why there is no remote. Perhaps Master wishes to highlight his absence in my life? Make me crave him even more that I do right now? Maybe keep my pussy toned and tight from holding them inside myself every day? Maybe its just Masters whim and I should stop trying to guess. His place is to lead and mine to follow and obey.

I take the eggs and roll them into my hands, surprised that they are heavier than I imagined. I take the first one and rub it over my pussy, rubbing it over my wet lips and onto my clit. My eyes drop closed as I imagine it buzzing, teasing my clit. I moan and slip it between my lips, using my fingers to slide it smoothly and easily into my cunt.
I'm panting and gasping already. I've not been given permission to cum, so I slide the second egg directly inside myself before desperatly trying to continue with my chores so I dont fall behind.

That was over 7 months ago. The gift and instructions were not mentioned again.

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Sitting at my desk, I shift position to accomodate the eggs so I'm sitting more comfortably. Trying to ease the daily need that slowly builds and burns inside me from the moment I ritually insert the eggs each and ever morning. After so long, I thought I would be used to them being inside me... but no.
They just remind me more and more of my submission. My need to be controlled. Made to feel small and vulnerable and totally helpless to my big, strong Master.

I look back at the paperwork infront of me and sigh, picking up my pen to write some corrections when suddenly, without any warning, the eggs vibrate. Instant, high, fast vibrations. I drop my pen and grip the desk, my body stiffening my cunt tightening, clit throbbing.

Oh God! Oh fuck. Yes! Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!

Shivers violently take over my body as I feel myself building up to that addictive explosion of light and sound and pure pleasure.

"Do you have permission to cum, whore?" a voice rumbles from the doorway. I look up through my lust and I see a man there. Tall and imposing. Strong and commanding; My Master.

"A woman's heart is a deep ocean of secrets"

I've been considering secrets today.

Sir, understandably, wants none between us.
His words being "I'm not going to give you anywhere to hide, slut" (oh that man makes me gooey in all the delicious places!)

So now, confession time.... Sir does not know about this blog.
I'm in two minds about telling him about it right away. I do plan on telling him, for sure!

When I started this, Sir and I had an agreement that we would trial out a 3 week period. I'd been without a Dom for 3 years and was terrified that I wouldn't be able to handle it after so many years on my own.

Now, I cant ever imagine wanting to leave. I'm giving up my barriers and control to him and he's taking it slow (though he stepped it up a notch last night and I was a drooling wreck for him)

So... this blog... my secret until the 3 weeks are up like we had agreed... or should I tell him now?

I dont think he would be angry at me... at least, I hope not. I dont want to vent/whine to him all the time about my worries and writing has always soothed me. But then that naughty little voice - you know the one; wants you to be that little bit bratty so you can be controlled just that little bit more - wants him to be a bit cross with me.

I would never deliberately lie to him... if he said "Slut, have you been posting you worries and desires on a blog without my prior knowledge?" then obviously I would drop to my knees (if I wasnt there already), rub my cheek and lips over his crotch, nod ans say "Yes Sir, your slut has done that" and wait to see what he would reply with.

I leave my question out there for the world to see.... should I tell my Daddy, my Sir, my Master... about this blog immediately, or should I wait for my trial period to be over?

Tick tock

Distance sucks. Time zones suck more.

3 days into my new D/s relationship and I was a bad girl already.
We both know I was testing my limits and seeing where the line was (and what the line looked like) and I realized I'd been more than just a "bad" girl... I'd been a terrible sub.

I had been letting my worry and fear over being a sub "again" (we never really stop, right?), about being hurt like I was last time, my fear of failing and my angst over commitment taint our conversations.

I was being a selfish lil brat.

And he was so sweet and didnt even say that to me... he just engineered his lecture to point it out so then I joined the dots to the answer. So much so that my punishment wasnt the main thing that caused me penance... the total shame of being a person... a thing... that I cannot stand seeing in others.

But, now I know the line. Whine and look for failure results in 2 hard slaps on each bare ass cheek and a vibe deep in my ass, on high, for 4 hours. I was blushing like a tomato the entire time. And I was so wet the entire time.

Hello, my name is OnlyHis and humiliation is my pussy-twitching trigger. 

So now I'm waiting for the clocks to tick a little quicker so I can see what he can teach me about himself and myself today. Just seeing the little chat-light go yellow when he's online makes my heart miss a beat, then pound harder and faster, my pussy starts tingling until I'm squirming on my seat, my panties soaked and my thighs slick.

He has me so completely. I love it.

A new start

New blog, new Master... new me.

I've never before written a blog... never before had a Master quiet like Him either.
I've lurked around some amazing blogs and been inspired and turned on until all I can think about is submission.. pain... pleasure... cum... rope... and now... Him.

Unlike blogging, I have been in a D/s relationship before. And the differences in Master's is surprising me more and more each day. This is like re-learning submission all over again. Its scary and exciting and oh-so-panty-wetting. Its been such a long time since I've been Owned by someone. I was feeling so lost and so unhappy. I didn't even fully understand it until now.

I haven't known him long in the sense of days and hours... but we connect. He so easily makes me crave more of him. To please him. To serve him.

Its all back to being new and shiney... like something in the playground you want to pick up and keep secret in your pocket. Only... I dont want this to be a secret.

I took his hand and will follow him where ever he feels I should go. He is my Master, my Sir, my Daddy and my guide.