Day 108 -- On Having Made a Six-Figure Salary as a Computer Programmer Before Becoming a Slave, On Writing the Final Chapters of My Werewolf Novel, and On Having Fun with My Former Mistress

Mmmm ….

It’s been a heck of a few days. So many things on my mind at the moment.

I didn’t mention in my last post, but I had a fantastic time with Mistress last Tuesday. I went over and packed up my car with the last of my stuff from her place, and then I cleaned up a bit. And then we fucked like girly bunnies and I came really hard, and so did she, and we cuddled and kissed and … mmmm … And then, for her birthday, I made catfish jambalaya and honey-basil salmon steaks, and I have to say the salmon came out PERFECT in a very heavenly way, and she agreed very nicely. It was a wonderful day, and it reminded me of just how much I miss her and still love her.

Then after I came home that night, I finished up with the first draft of another chapter in my novel, and soon afterward I got all of the previous chapters together in one spot. I’ve only got two chapters and an epilogue left, and I want to make sure it’s done right. So, with that in mind, I’m going to read through all of the 112,000 words I’ve written in all the chapters so far, fix all the little things I’ve taken notes for but never done, and, with all I’ve written in my head, pounce on the last bit of the novel.

“Err … what novel?” you’re probably asking. Okay, I guess I’ve never mentioned it, but I’ve been working on a novel for about three and a half years. I was hot and heavy into it for almost two years, then I entered into my year of hell (in which I was clinically depressed) and lost myself into SecondLife for awhile. Finally, about a month ago, I picked it up again, and to my shock and happy surprise, I’m writing just as fluidly as ever. Everything I had planned with the characters is coming back, and it looks like I’ll be done with the first draft in less than three months.

The novel is about a female wolf-born werewolf who is volunteers for a suicide mission to interact with the local vampires and … what I’m hoping sets it apart is that the main character is by nature a wolf, not a human, and so the perspective and satire on society is quite different than other female-werewolf novels. Of which there are a ton. There weren’t that many when I started writing it, but my delay due to my depression caused me to miss the crest of the wave.

Actually, if I had finished the novel late last year (when I had planned), it still might not be published. First I’d have to find an agent (which could take months or more than a year), then the agent would have to find a publisher (which could take months or more than a year), and with all that I might never be published.

I told Master about it, and he said he’ll guarantee I’ll get published. On Kindle. Master said it’s the way to self-publish in style these days. What I would do is, after the novel is edited to its final draft and ready to go, I upload it to Amazon.com for sale to readers of their Kindle e-book device. I’ll set the price relatively low (probably $2.99 or even $1.99) to get impulse buyers, and with any luck I’ll get a decent amount of cash back. I’m not expecting six figures, but twenty grand would be rather swell.

The market’s still good for female werewolf novels, and I do know how to write, as I was a journalist for a decade. And the book is written in journalistic style, and I do have a wolf spirit, and …

Well, I’ve got my dewclaws crossed it won’t flop.

I’ve got a sequel lined up as well, in case I get an audience.

And I’ve got a third book ready to go, completely outlined and set to write. It’s inspired by what happened to me during the year I was lost in SecondLIfe. I’m determined to make all the time I wasted in there … not be wasted, but instead become useful for my writing career.

Anyway, more on the novel as it progresses.

Speaking of making six figures … well … I used to, by the way.

Yep. A year and a half ago, I was pulling in more than $100,000 a year.

Now I’m a slave, making only room and board and whatever else my Master generously provides for me. Master has set it up that each month he’ll pay for my health insurance, the child support I’m paying my ex, and about $150 allowance for me to save toward unexpected expenses (such as taking my kids to the zoo). Yes, I did say “child support”. Yeah, I was the breadwinner of the family at one point in my life. Did I mention I had been making six figures?

In case anybody’s wondering, the way I was making so much money is that I had somehow lucked into a high-level software programming position for a major company.

And the reason I don’t have it any more is because of two things – the recession, and the fact that, to be honest, I was never a programmer at heart.

Years ago I got into computer science because I wanted to do computer animation, and I didn’t realize that the jobs in that field went to people with art degrees. I hated being a programmer, and I failed at it miserably, and eventually I left it and got a second degree doing what I loved – writing. I became a professional journalist for a decade, and it was a wonderful, stressful, incredible (and quite low-salary) time in my life.

Then children entered our life, and suddenly having a low-paying job I loved didn’t cut it anymore.

My ex didn’t have a marketable degree, and I thought my old computer science certification was useless. But then the tech boom happened, and companies were hiring techies left and right, male and female, it didn’t matter. And so I went to work while my ex stayed home with the kids.

I went from job to job over the next eight years, eventually winding up in a position making more than $100K.

My ex and I were spoiled, thinking it would last forever. So although we paid off all our bills, and we had the brains to pay off our mortgage, we didn’t save much of anything.

But that was then, and this is now. My ex is surviving on Medicare, food stamps, credit cards and the child support I send.

And I’m a slave.

Life is weird, y’know?

On that note, I’m behind in my postings for various reasons, so even though I have more to write about, I’m going to go ahead and get this out for now.

As always, la kajira!

p.s. In a post on the "Slave Registry" message board, somebody asked what everybody's daily chore routines were. I put my my list there, and I'm putting it here as well, in case anybody's curious regarding what my daily life's like workwise. This list, by the way, was reviewed and formally approved by my Master:

Rotating schedule:
• Clean M’Lady’s bathroom top to bottom
• Clean Master’s bathroom top to bottom
• Clean entry and basement bathroom top to bottom
• Clean mudroom counters, shelves, washer and drier and floor
• Vacuum main-floor rugs
• Vacuum upstairs rugs
• Vacuum and mop kitchen floor
• Wipe kitchen counters, cabinets and refrigerator surfaces
• Vacuum and mop main-floor wood floor
• Clean light switches, door knobs and other commonly handled areas around the house
• Wipe office chairs, desks and other often used surfaces
• Look for area where dust has built up and clean thoroughly
• Dust areas of house not often touched (such as glass cabinets)
• Inspect garage and porch, then clean if needed
• At end of cycle, inspect house thoroughly to see if anything was missed

Daily:
• Make Master’s bed
• Discuss evening meal with Master if needed, then prepare, shopping if necessary
• Pick up mail at external dropoff
• Get mail from outside
• Tidy my room
• Empty trash and recycling around the house if full
• Check laundry and do if needed
• Check bathrooms to see if they are out of toilet paper and paper towels
• Check around house and clean up where any dirt or spilled liquids found
• Ensure house is locked up at night
• Microwave sponges on plate for 30 seconds
• Check if dishes need to be done. If so, also wash sponges in dishwasher.
• Check personal e-mail and Fetlife and respond as necessary

Weekly:
• Sunday night: Put out trash (and recycling every other week)
• Wash M’Lady’s bed sheets
• Wash Master’s bed sheets
• File receipts
• Check BDSM community calendar for upcoming events

When time allows:
• Study massage
• Study Perl to assist Master in the future
• Study recipe books to assist Master in the future

Day 89 - On Getting Ten Needles Stuck Into My Right Breast and Enjoying It, On Getting My Life (and My Novel Writing) Back On Track, On Having A Great Day with My Kids, On Having Fantastic Sex with Mistress, and On Master Getting Possessive of Me

(Note: I'm posting this one without editing it, as I'm a bit too tired for that at the moment. Hopefully this makes sense in the time until I'm able to get back online and check it over while being more awake. *grins*)

Needles.

Ten of them were stuck into my right breast tonight in the area surrounding my aerola.

To be more precise, they were slid in, going into the skin and out. In some situations, they went in the skin, out again, over a needle, and then back in.

And it was all done for fun.

Master and I met at the Sanctuary BDSM club tonight after I had a great afternoon with my kids. The first thing we did was watch an okay presentation on spanking by some guy (who's apparently somewhat famous for being a good spanker) demonstrate on his extremely attractive (and quite a bit younger) assistant. Spanking is, to me, punishment. It can be pleasurable if done as punishment, but, for me, I don't like getting spanked in and of itself. As I've mentioned before, I'm a bit of a masochist but not a pain slut, meaning I sometimes get a kick out of being punished or out of my Owner unexpectedly hurting me for no good reason. In contrast, planned pain doesn't excite me, so the presentation on spanking wasn't a huge thrill. Master didn't find it exciting, either.

Afterward, however, we were talking with Master G and his slave, who is wonderful and also happens to be blind. (Master is great friends with Master G, and there's a good chance we're going to have Thanksgiving dinner at their house, by the way.)

Well, to my surprise, Master G suddenly told me that my Master had told him I wanted to experiment with needles, and he wondered if I wanted to give it a try tonight. I responded with a mix of excitement and nervousness that came out as silly anxiety, which concerned Master G until he realized it was just my way of expressing my desire to do something exciting like that.

He used surgical needles, which he explained come in six different diameters. Tonight he only used the two smallest, which was enough for me. Well, at first. After he put ten in me, I was starting to feel rather nice about life and the universe, and I asked Master if he could keep putting them in. Master, however, said ten was enough for my first time because I'd be driving home.

See, the reason people put needles in themselves is for the endorphin rush which happens after they pierce the skin.

I kept the needles in my skin for awhile and wandered around, watching other people and talking a bit. Eventually, though, my movement caused one to start to come loose, so Master had Master G remove all of them.

And that's when my endorphin rush really kicked in. I could still function and have a good conversation, but I was buzzing quite well in a way that took a good half hour to an hour to fully resolve itself.

During my rush I felt my wolf side starting to come out rather strongly, and I realized finally why Native Americans use piercing as a way of achieving shamanic ecstacy for trance states.

Speaking of shamanic work, I moved my shamanic tools over from Mistress's house and examined them last night and today. I've been feeling rather strongly toward getting back into my shamanic practicing and meditation.

It's weird how my life took such a strange turn when I got hooked on SecondLife early last year. Before then, I exercised regularly, I meditated almost every day, I experienced shamanic trance journeys as a wolf several times a week, and I was hard at work on my novel.

Now that I'm with Master, all of those things may be back in my life on a regular basis. I'm already exercising again. I journeyed with another shaman online recently (and we visited our cubs and ... oh, heck. Now trying to explain that in this post would be a bit too much, so I'll save it for next time).

And my novel's coming along again. After writing 12 chapters, I have only three to go. And yet, I stopped at that point more than a year ago because I wasn't happy with the way the novel was going, and I lost my drive. Tonight, however, my editor and shamanic friend (more about him later) looked over what I had written the last few days, and his suggestions have totally revitalized the end of the novel in such a way that ... I think the novel will be ready for publishing on Kindle within six months. *bounces in excitement*

Oh, and, yeah, it's a female werewolf novel. In case you hadn't already guessed. *chuckles*

It would be remarkably nice if the novel does well enough to provide me an income independent of Master's providing for me just so I could set up a college fund for my kids. That's the biggest concern I have regarding being so dependent on Master -- the fact that I've got nothing to fall back on, and neither does my family, if things go sour here for some reason.

Master keeps telling me he's nuts about me and has long-term plans for me, which brings me a lot of comfort. He is, however, naturally already getting jealous of the time I'm not here, as I am his property. This week I didn't see that much of him, to be honest. Tuesday I spent several hours with Mistress. Wednesday I was with my kids and ...

Okay ... the kids. Fantastic day on Wednesday. I did everything with them, starting at picking them up from school and ending only after kissing my dear daughter goodnight. Most of the day was with my daughter, actually. Highlights include us making Indian Fry Bread together (which everybody thought was extremely yummy) to having my daughter read to me about Annie Oakley, to giving my daughter her bath and reading a bedtime story to her, and finally to making snacks by shaping soft cheese into prey animals and sprinkling them with shredded cheese for "fur" (with a mouse for my daughterwho believes she's a cat and a sheep for my son, who felt very in touch with Dragon spirit that night).

Oh, and, yeah, my son speaks to spirits, like I do. And my daughter is very certain she's a cat in a human body, just like I was when I was her age (except it wasn't a cat for me). I talked with Alice for awhile Wednesday to make sure she knows that she's not alone, and that I understand and believe her entirely when she says she feels spiritually she's not human. And I talked to my son a very long time about how he's been so disruptive lately, and how I need to help him learn to meditate because possible the energy from Dragon spirit is overwhelming him and getting out of control in his life, causing him to do things that have gotten him suspended from school lately (such as kicking another student and arguing with a teacher).

Oh, I'm sure a lot of you think I'm a total flake after reading that last paragraph, and so be it. It's about time I finally went over my unusual spiritual experiences and beliefs, but I'll save that for my next posting. Those beliefs did lead me to being a slave, so they're actually pertinent to this whole blog, so I figure they're definitely worth talking about here.

Anyway, so I hardly saw Master on Wednesday, and on Thursday I spent most of the day with Mistress.

*grins*

Remember I said I expected the bed to get ruffled at her house? Boy, did it ever!!! At one point we were talking casually, and I half jokingly said, "I could really use some sex," and she ordered me into the bedroom and ... we ... wow! It was the best damn fucking I've had in a LONG time (if not ever). It began with a wonderful little dilator, and then Mistress got a cock for me and told me to ride it on top of her, and after I came hard (screaming so loud I'm shocked the neighbors didn't complain), I licked and sucked Mistress's clitty for a long time, and, well ... that's just a brief description of some of what we did. And as good as the sex was, the cuddling afterward was wonderfully beautiful. I felt I could have laid with her forever and just fallen asleep joyfully in her arms.

Technically, however, I came over there to clean up her house and pack up my car, which I did. But Mistress and I really wanted to see each other, so I really took my time doing the work.

*sighs*

I hated leaving Mistress, but I was getting a nagging feeling that Master wanted me back. Sure enough, he did. When I returned, I could tell he clearly didn't expect me to spend all day over at Mistress's house, but instead just thought I'd be gone a few hours.

I need to be with Master. But I want to be with Mistress.

I wish I could be with Mistress more. And maybe, if we're lucky, I will be.

But with me being with my kids one and a half days a week, I don't think Master will want me to spend much time with Mistress, even though Mistress said he agreed she would be my partial owner.

We'll see.

La kajira!

Day 86 - On Being Depressed About Being Seven Minutes Late, On Missing Mistress Like Crazy, On Needing Master But Desiring Mistress, On Getting Seriously Creeped Out By Transformational Art, and On Missing My Kids After Reading an Article About Life After Death

Seven minutes.

That’s all it took to make me go from having a good day to being extremely depressed.

And it was my fault.

Tonight is Master’s bowling night, and we had agreed that I would be home by 4:30 in the afternoon so I could make dinner.

I got home at 4:37 and walked into the kitchen to find him already putting everything together.

It was a simple dinner tonight. He bought something from a place called “Supper Solutions,” which provides meals that are almost entirely prepared. Tonight was Cincinnati Chili, and all he had to do was add the ingredients to a skillet, let it simmer for a few minutes, then add the other ingredients to cook for awhile.

Correction. That’s all I had to do. And I didn’t do it because I wasn’t there.

Master told me it was okay, and what was important was that I tried to get home on time.

But I feel like shit. I keep making little mistakes, and I feel like they’re piling up, even though Master said I’m better already than any slave he and M’Lady have ever had in their household.

I’ve always had a problem with getting to places on time. Ever since high school when I first got a car of my own, I was always running late to school.

I’ve never learned how to correctly compensate for the unexpected. I’m horrible at estimating how long something will take.

And I get weird when I start to realize I don’t have enough time. I get fixated on completing the task at hand, even if it means I’ll be late, and people will be sitting around waiting for me.

It’s a strange mental block that has affected me all my life, and one that has made many people annoyed at me at times over the years. Particularly my ex, who gets sick of me saying I’ll pick up the kids at 10 in the morning, only to show up at 10:30 or later.

I told Master about my problem tonight, and he said he’s going to try and figure out how to work with me to fix it.

Tonight, though, he told me not to worry about it.

And yet, here I am, crying about disappointing him as I sit at the desk in the little side room they have for me.

I told Master tonight that this is a dream come true for me. I feel I’m in the place in my life I’ve sought so desperately for years, ever since I realized I’m a slave at heart. Possibly, it’s the place I’ve sought all my life without realizing it. And I feel like I’m screwing things up.

Master hugged me tightly and told me it’s alright, and to get on with the night and not worry about it.

But he knew I wasn’t letting go of it, because simply I can’t let go of it very easily. Serving him and M’Lady and Mistress is one of the primary focuses of my life now (the other focus being my children), and the idea of failing at that strikes me horribly to the depths of my soul. That may sound like hyperbole, but it’s truly how I feel.

*sighs*

Mistress. I miss the hell out of her.

She’s the reason I was late. I was at her house today, and I kept delaying leaving her because I still love her so much.

I went over today to pick up a carload of things, and we almost immediately began kissing tenderly. After a moment, she pushed me back with a slightly annoyed look, and when I asked her why she did that, she told me, “I want to jump your bones, that’s why, and you don’t have time for that.”

I really want to make love to her again, too. She’s a hell of a kisser. A lot better than Master, I have to admit. Mistress says that’s because she’s a girl, and she just might be right about that. *chuckles*

Mistress is so laid back. We went out for lunch at Arby’s, and she treated me to a French Dip with fries and soda. It tasted like a feast. Master has me prepare decadent dinners each night, but there’s never any comfort food around the house. We never go out for pizza or a Whopper or a Taco Bell burrito. Instead, we have things like moussaka (well, something that resembled moussaka last night). Every morning Mistress would have me make her breakfast, usually eggs and toast and maybe bacon or sausage. Master and M’Lady almost never eat breakfast (this morning was an exception when I made grits and Master requested a bowlful). For lunch, Master usually eats just a store-bought sandwich. I’m sure they eat more because neither of them is underweight by any means, but what they munch on is a mystery to me (although I think they tend to snack late at night, because I’ll often wake up in the morning to find dirty dishes waiting for me near the sink).

Mistress is laid back in so many other ways. Around her, I always know I’m owned. She demands very specific things. But she doesn’t usually demand they’re done in an overly specific way. Well, she wants the laundry done the way she likes. And she likes meals made in a particular fashion. And her bed is made in a certain way. And … okay … she’s particular, too. Maybe I just got used to her after awhile, and I’m still nervous about Master because I’m in the initial stages of learning his ways. That, and I have to learn M’Lady’s ways – and even Master admits that she’s so precise about things (she has obsessive-compulsive disorder, or OCD) that it drives him crazy as well.

But still, it was wonderful to be with Mistress again, even for a couple of hours, because I felt I could really let my hair down around her.

And she clearly loved me being there.

She reminded me today that as part of agreement with Master, she retains partial ownership of me. As a result, she’s told Master that she wants me to spend the day with her on Thursday so that I can clean the house top to bottom in preparation for a date she’s having Friday night.

I can hardly wait. I strongly suspect that cleaning the house isn’t the only thing we’ll be doing, and that if the bed has already been made when I get there in the morning, I’ll have to make it again by the time I leave that night. *grins gently*

I hate to say it, but I haven’t had sex once since Master took me in. It’s clear he would like to do it with me, but he has erectile dysfunction disorder, and he simply can’t get it up enough. He loves to cuddle, though, and that is a wonderful thing, and I’ll live with the joys I can get.

Mistress told me today about all the fun she had at parties on Halloween and Halloween Eve with female friends of hers, and I felt, I admit, a bit envious, because I knew I would have gone with her if I had been with her.

I told Mistress today that I feel something’s clear. I need to be with Master. I’m the right slave for him, and he’s the right Master for me. I’m trained to provide his needs, and he’s able to fulfill my needs as well by taking responsibility for me, financially and otherwise.

But I desire Mistress more, I think. I have more thrills and more fun with her. She’s two years younger than I am, and we’re both single women. She’s less set in her ways. We understand each other.

*sighs*

Somebody who read this blog told me I’m an extremely lucky slave to be in my situation. And I know I am.

It would be perfect if I could experience the joys of both life with Mistress and life with Master together.

Actually, I can. And I I can truly count my blessings for that.

*smiles*

*sighs and looks more serious*

Okay, I started to end this post on that note, but I figured it was worth explaining that there’s more to my depression today than just being late … although that was enough by itself.

Last night I viewed a gallery of some very creepy transformational fetish works by Ian Samson. I went there out of curiosity because somebody on StuckPosing said they were looking for a comic of his in which a young woman is transformed into the heart (yes, the internal organ) of a baby dragon.

That site was creepy. And addictive. I couldn't stop until I had viewed everything and taken it all in. I feel rather weird today mentally as a result. Not exactly in the most chipper of moods. Rather disturbed, actually. I just couldn’t get some of the most cruel ideas and works of art out of my mind, and they’re still haunting me.

So, I would say, regarding that site's images ... mission accomplished (for the artist, at least). For me, I think it might have been better if I had never looked at the site, so … if you’re like me, I recommend you not check it out. *shrugs with a sigh*

Transformational stories are incredibly addictive to me, by the way. They’re like poisonous potato chips. Once I start eating them, I can hardly stop, and then when I finally do finish, I usually feel disgusted in a way that lasts for a long time. The advantage of potato chips is that I could (if I was that type of person) vomit them out. I don’t do that, but I could. Unfortunately, I can’t vomit the truly horrible images I get from some of the cruelest transformational stories out of my head, as much as I wish I could.

(Speaking of transformational stories, mine got published on “The Legacy of Timeless Beauty” story archive. Hurray!)

On another note, I got a bit sad yesterday about a different subject … missing my kids.

On the Newsweek web site, there was a review of a book that attempted to prove scientifically that life exists after death.

It isn't often that an online book review leaves me in tears. But the following words, posted at the end of this review, did.

"Is there comfort in the idea that Max (the reviewer’s younger son, who passed away) lives on as a disembodied consciousness in a parallel universe? I want him here with me now, and I would gladly trade my prospects for Eternity for the chance to hug him one more time."

I can't imagine what it would be like to lose one of my two children. And reading those words made me want to be with them so very, very much.

I’ll be with them tomorrow. Master was a little bothered at first today when he realized that my plans to be with my kids tomorrow conflicted with his plans to have me with him when he taught a class at the Sanctuary on Master/slave relationships. After calling my ex to see if we could change it so I could be with them today, I found out my ex needs to be at an evening class meeting and so I need to pick up the kids at school and be with them for awhile. That’s great for me … the more time the better … but I felt concerned Master would be annoyed, and when I mentioned to my ex I might need to leave around 6:30, my ex started making me feel extremely guilty for “abandoning the kids in favor of that guy” even though my ex would be home by that time. Fortunately, Master told me that, although he was disappointed, he wanted me to not hurry with my kids, and so things are okay. But … that conversation happened this morning, and so that’s another reason why I got depressed for disappointing Master again tonight by being a bit late.

Back to the subject of the book that was reviewed in Newsweek, the problem I have with so many books from both sides of the recent theology debates is that they assume the readers are Christian. I am not. Although I was raised Southern Baptist, I have been a shamanic practitioner for almost 15 years. My personal experiences have given me no doubts regarding reincarnation, but there is, naturally, no way anybody but I would see them as proof of anything. I believe my spirit guides have given me what I need for my life's path, and that is that.

With that in mind, I firmly believe that were my children to die tomorrow, that I would very possibly see them again, in one form or another. I might even see them again in this life. Maybe even soon after their death.

But, still ... humans resist change. I would want my daughter to remain my daughter, a human little girl, bright and bubbly, who loves dressing up as a cat even when it is rather inappropriate. And I would want my son to remain my son, a human little boy, determined and energetic, who loves to invent bizarre contraptions with Legos.

Such is life. And death.

And so it goes. *sighs and smiles wistfully*

La kajira!

Day 78 - On Being Loaned to Mistress, Lesbian Sex, Realizing I'm a Masochist, and An Awful Task Because of a Lost DVD,

Today was a long day. And I was bawling my eyes out at one point.

But, as they say, all’s well that end’s well. *grins and shrugs*

I’ve been at Mistress’s today, wearing her collar, on loan from Master. As part of the transition, I’m serving her every few days while my possessions remain at her house. After the move is complete, I’ll still probably serve her one day a week to maintain my connection with her.

I realized last night as I walked in the door to her home how much I had missed her. And how much I love her. Which is very much.

I love both Master and Mistress greatly, so the fact that I’m able to be with them both brings great happiness to my heart … and to theirs, from what I can tell.

Mistress got in a movie called “Desert Hearts” from Netflix today, and we watched it tonight (well, I saw the last part, as I was doing chores during much of it). It’s apparently one of the top 10 lesbian movies of all time. It was very well done, from what I saw. Mistress is bi-sexual, but in particular she’s lesbian, and she loves “lipstick lesbian” drama. At one point in the movie I was sitting on the couch leaning forward to watch the movie, and my shirt happened to be unbuttoned to just below my chest, and I noticed Mistress staring at me with a slight smile, and I asked her if anything was wrong, and in response she said, “You’ve got very nice breasts tonight, girl.” I asked her what was different, and she said apparently the combination of the way they were exposed and hanging, and the fact she was watching a hot lesbian sex scene at the time, got her rather horny and appreciate of the slave in her proximity. Pretty soon she was fondling my breasts (and pinching my nipples rather hard, to her pleasure), and not long after that I had my mouth between her legs, giving her oral sex until she buckled her crotch against my lips and came with a shudder and a rather loud groan. So … if you’re lesbian or just enjoy a good drama, you might want to check that movie out. *chuckles*

By the way, I’ve realized that I’m a bit of a masochist. Not a pain slut, but what’s called a “true masochist,” in that I get a thrill from being exposed to pain, bondage or other forceful situations that I don’t enjoy. For a painslut, they enjoy experiencing pain in and of itself. Me, I hate pain. I hate it when Mistress spanks me and pinches my nipples and slaps my ass and does things to piss me off. But … there is a thrill attached to such things because, as a slave, I’m not in control. And I enjoy the thrill, even though I don’t enjoy the pain.

I realized that Saturday night at the Sanctuary BDSM club when I was sitting at the feet of both Master and Mistress while they were talking, and at one point they both grabbed one of my two pigtails and pulled while Mistress jokingly said, “Make a wish!” It hurt! And yet … I loved it! And I said something teasingly to Mistress afterward, and in response she grabbed both of my tails, held my head a bit painfully to the couch, and wouldn’t let me go for a long time. I was having a blast, and both she and Master knew it … which means I may be in for more pain in the future than I ever expected.

Apparently there’s a word for somebody like me … a “Sammy” … which comes from “Smart Ass Masochist” (SAM). I have a tendency to playfully disobey and back talk my Owners just enough to pull out their sadism and get them happily disciplining me (usually with a paddle or appropriate pinch). I used to consider myself a brat, and I am, indeed, but brats tend to know how to stop just short of being punished (usually … *grins*) … and if they are punished, they feel it was worth it! A Sammy actually tries to push a bit further to get their Owner to actually punish them … but not seriously. If their Owner is actually upset, a Sammy went much too far. It’s all meant to be playful fun … although there’s a fine line to walk when you do it. And walking that fine line is a large part of the fun much of the time. *laughs*

Mistress obviously needs a slave, without a doubt. When I arrived last night, the house was, to be honest, a mess, and I’d only been gone a few days! The same clothes were in the washer and drier that were there when I’d left. The kitty litter box hadn’t been changed. The trash hadn’t been taken out. The kitchen counters were messy, the dishes needed to be washed, and there was a ton of laundry to do. So, needless to say, I was rather busy today.

Still, I might have largely been done a lot earlier than now (it’s rather late, and Mistress has already gone to bed), but … I spent somewhere between four and five hours on a really awful task. It’s the reason I was bawling today. Master had lent Mistress and me several DVDs last month before the move … and when I returned the cases to him last week, I found to my complete embarrassment that one of them was missing a DVD. Last night I looked in all the boxes in Mistress’s room with no luck, but we figured I’d find them quickly today. Wrong. I went through almost every box in the house and garage five times, then searched in the closets, then the drawers, then everywhere I could think of. What had happened was right before the move, Mistress had taken it out of the DVD player and put it with some other DVDs for storage … and she forgot where she put them. Finally success, but I was a bit shaken by the time it arrived. I had tried to call Mistress about my difficulties today, but she was out doing work for her Master, and she was away from the phone. I finally found them in the storage shed a little box that had been taped up securely as if it was old and Mistress didn’t want it ever opened here. Bleh. The worst part was that Mistress had no idea about what she did with the DVDs and blamed me for a while, making me feel even worse. But things are finally okay, so I can return the DVDs to Master tomorrow. Again, I say, “Bleh.”

I’ve got more to write, but I’m sleepy as heck, and so I’ll post this as it is and finish up tomorrow (assuming Master gives me time for it). Until then, keep the faith, and …

La kajira!!!

*bounces happily*

Day 75 - On My First Full Day as Master's Slave, On Reflecting On Why Mistress and I Didn't Work Out, On the Possibility of Being Master's Slave Forever, On Getting Electrocuted for Fun with a Violet Wand, On Winning First Place at the Steampunk Party, On My Daughter Being a Cat in a Human Body, and On Reading a Fantastic Online Comic Called SPQR Blues and Becoming Queen Guinereve's Virtual Slave in SecondLife

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Day 74 - On Being Given by Mistress to Master G

Master G owns me now.

And everybody’s happy about it.

From now on, I’ll simply refer to him here as “Master.”

I’m at his house tonight, wearing his collar. It’s a beautiful metal band with a Celtic triskelion pendant … the symbol of his house.

The evening after my last posting, Mistress and I talked. I came downstairs crying about Master. He had written me and told me specifically that he did not want to see me because he cared for me so much and knew I cared for him, and he was afraid our desire for each other would blow up and hurt somebody, most likely Mistress.

I talked to Mistress about everything. I told her how I had been using Master as a confidant to vent about the things that were annoying me. I told her how stressed Master J had made me. I told her my feelings toward Master and his feelings toward me. We talked for a long time.

And then she wrote Master and asked for his views. And when he told her the same things, she scheduled a face-to-face meeting with him for the next night. I was not invited. It was to be about me, but I was not to be privy to what was said, Mistress told me.

As a slave, that was exactly how it should be.

Last night she returned from the meeting. She said they had both fully agreed that I was far better suited to be Master’s slave, largely because of the reasons I listed in my previous posting. She also said that Master and his wife are getting up in years, and they need help with household duties far more than Mistress does. And she said that Master could use me to my full potential as a true tool by accessing my skills as a copywriter, journalist and software programmer in ways that would enhance his business. (Master and his wife, by the way, own a successful online sex-toy business).

I thought that Mistress might actually sale me, but the main thing she got out of the agreement directly was an even stronger friendship both with Master and his wife (who I shall call M’Lady, at her request), and Mistress said that in itself was a wonderful gift.

They agreed to transition the transfer gradually, with me spending a few nights at Master’s home, then back at Mistress’s, slowly increasing my time at my new abode.

It’s worked out best for everybody, I feel, although I can tell Mistress is a little sad. The good thing is that Master has said he’ll loan me to her on a regular basis, likely one day a week, and I’ll housesit for her when she’s away. So we won’t be strangers.

*smiles*

Funny how things turn out sometimes, y’know?

I still have more to write, but Master wishes me to go to bed with him, and I need to sign off and post this.

La kajira!!!

Day 72 - On Being Fucked By the Biggest Prick I've Ever Encountered, Getting Angry With Mistress, and Letting My Emotions and Big Mouth Possibly Fuck Up My Relationships with Both Mistress and Master G

Right now I’m rather pissed at my Owner. I don’t know what’s going to happen between us, but I expect things are going to fall apart and that I’ll be owned by Master G.

The problem is money. Well, there are a lot of problems. Mistress and I have a relationship that’s built around slavery … and not much else. We’re friends and occasional lovers, and I was a bit infatuated with her at first. Okay, I loved her, and I still do, but it was never intense or knock-your-socks-off love. It was just the love of two friends, one of which felt protective toward the other one and decided to collar her.

Master G wants me to live with him full time and take care of me completely. Room and board fully paid for. I would be his full-time servant in all ways.

He’s charming and eloquent and wise and refined, and he loves talking about literature and old movies and the like.

Mistress gets on chat rooms about sex and watches porn all day. Well, she also occasionally works part time for her Master doing maintenance work on his rental properties.

Mistress said she’s good friends with Master G, but she could never have Master G as her Owner. Mistress told me today she very clearly prefers “bad boys who reformed.” Her Master is a former member of the Pagans, the most notorious outlaw biker gang in the country. The lover who visited us this weekend, Master J, is a former member of the Widow’s Sons outlaw biker gang. All Mistress’s Master and Master J like to do around her, it seems, is have sex, sex and more sex.

Master G and I get along perfectly in almost every way.

My unemployment runs out in a month. Mistress said she’ll cover the costs for a little while, but she’ll expect me to get some type of job, even if it’s something awful like working the graveyard shift at a convenience store 40 hours a week. She pulled rank on me today and said, as my Owner, she can demand I do that kind of thing because, as her slave, I can make her do any work she desires, and she can keep my money and do with it as she wants.

She knows Master G wants me, but she doesn’t want to give me up. She said she likes me being around as a friend, and she likes me doing all the chores and being her servant. But she also treats me like a roommate, in that I have to pay rent and pay for my share of utilities and household costs.

She wants me to both be a slave in the ways it benefits her, and be a free person in the ways it benefits her.

She’s exploiting me.

And, as a slave, I’m not sure what to do ... yet.

I could just leave and go to Master G’s house. Master G would like me to do that, I’m sure, but he’s moral enough that he doesn’t want to destroy his friendship with Mistress.

The truth is, I want to be at Master G’s house more than at Mistress’s house in a lot of ways. It would benefit Master G, his wife, and me in so many ways that wouldn’t be possible if I remained with Mistress.

I love Mistress. But I love Master G very much, too.

Today Mistress threatened to bar me from going to Master G’s house this week as punishment if needed for any offenses I might have around the house.

I’m a slave. It’s very, very serious to me.

But it is consensual.

Something’s got to give, and soon.

*sighs*

Oh … wasn’t this post today supposed to be about the guy with the gigantic cock? Yep, that’s Master J. He arrived Saturday morning and left for the airport to return to Texas a couple of hours ago.

Maybe I’m pissy regarding Mistress today because I really didn’t like Master J much at all, and Mistress is madly in love with him, practically worshiping the ground he walks on.

I was a journalist for nearly 10 years. I learned to read facial expressions and tone of voice.

Master J reeked with fake sincerity practically every time he opened his mouth. It got to where I could hardly stand to be around him, and I practically recoiled from his touch.

And those touches were frequent, indeed, starting with the French kiss he gave me within a minute of our meeting. The smell and taste of his recently smoked cigar was strong on his tongue and never went away throughout his stay.

Saturday, the day of his arrival, I was the best slave I could be. And, to impress Master J, Mistress made sure I followed his every order.

And pretty much all of those orders had to do with sex. He was incredibly horny and remained that way all the time he was here. Or maybe, because of his biker days, he’s just used to automatically treating women like fuck toys. Well, I am a slave, and if being a fuck toy is my duty, then so be it. The thing is, Master J isn’t in the BDSM lifestyle. He’s not used to having a slave … yet he sure got used quickly to taking advantage of pretty much every orifice in my body without asking me any permission.

Monday night we talked about his days as a biker, and he said pretty much all of his women while he was in the gang were treated like his property in every way. Or, as Mistress said, if you removed the crime and drugs and bikes, his relationship with his women was like Mistress’s relationship with me. Master and slave. So he’s actually pretty used to the idea in a lot of ways.

One of his favorite phrases is, “Thank God for the statute of limitations!” He openly admits to having committed numerous crimes while a biker (hence, the “outlaw” aspect), but he said he never raped anybody, and he never beat his women.

Anyway, so Saturday was filled with lots of sex for me. Almost as soon as I had taken Master J’s suitcases into the house, I was down on my knees sucking his cock.

Oh, yeah … his cock. Err … how to describe it? A horse would be appropriate. Almost two and a half inches in diameter, which equates to more than seven inches in circumference. It was a chore to fit it in my mouth, I’ll say that, but I did until he was satisfied.

Then I had to give him a full-body sponge bath in Mistress’s tub. I remained as elegant as I could, making sure the water was the perfectly heated temperature, with bath salts and perfume and oils. And then, once he was seated inside, I took several clean cloths and proceeded to work my way around his body slowly, soaping up the cloths with the best ingredients as needed, until he was completely scrubbed and cleaned in every way.

Soon afterward, he groped and suckled my body, moving from my face to my breasts while his fingers fucked my vagina and played with my clit. That could have really turned me on except … he had no style, no grace, no form. It was all just being fucked for his satisfaction. But, being a slave, I exist to please, so I made sure never to show anything but a smile and say anything but a groan of pleasure for him.

Throughout the time he was here, he would repeatedly do that again, more or less. He never failed to take the opportunity when we were passing each other to stop and grope something of me or to stick his tongue somewhere in or on me. What was exciting at first soon became rather … annoying.

Oh, and, yes, he did mount me from above. And it hurt, I have to say. I’ve never taken a cock that large inside me, and despite working to try and stretch my vagina with a dildo, he still couldn’t fit more than half of it inside me. He said he enjoyed fucking me even then, however, although he didn’t cum inside me. Which I’m glad to know because of the fact he used to be a biker. And he admitted after sex that he used to have the clap, but he got it treated and cured years ago. Which I didn’t know, but I trusted Mistress, and so I let him inside me without a condom.

Which is part of why I’m annoyed at Mistress right now. *sighs*

During Master J’s stay, I had to sleep on a bare mattress upstairs, and I actually slept pretty darn well. I was woken up by Master J Monday morning and he, horny as usual, announced he would wake me up by eating my pussy. Which he did for about ten or fifteen minutes. And I screamed hard and loud eventually. But not from orgasming. Instead, it was because he was such a brute that he hurt the hell out of my clitoris and labial lips. He kept biting and scraping them with his teeth, and his tongue was so rough and hard and too fast, and he clearly had no concern for whether I liked it or not as long as I was making the motions like a cheap slut in a porno movie.

Later in the day on Monday, Mistress’s Master came over, and the three of them were having sex for hours in the living room while watching porn showing women being beaten and tortured. Yes, it was all for show. It was real BDSM, and not some disgusting movie where it seemed like the women were doing it against their will. But … the fact that Mistress’s Master and Master J both got their kicks from watching women screaming for mercy while getting whipped and flogged really disturbed me. And I hate to say it, because I have no moral problem with gay sex, but I don’t enjoy watching two men going at it with each other by sticking their cocks in each other – which is what Mistress’s Master and Master J were doing to each other.

So, while they were doing all that, I cleaned house like crazy … which actually impressed the hell out of Master J and Mistress’s Master, who saw me as a perfect little slave for doing that. By the end of the day, I had done so much laundry and so much packing and so much cleaning that I was dog tired, and we went to a Violet Wand demonstration with Master G for a treat. But I’ll write about that in my next posting.

*sighs*

Master J, at least, wasn’t cheap. He left Mistress $140 on her bedstand after sleeping with her last night. Mistress said she told him she wanted it clear that she wasn’t taking money for being with him, but that she was considering the cash to be an early birthday present.

Mistress is sad to see Master J gone. She would live with him if she had the chance, she’s said.

I’m not sad to see him go.

To make matters much worse, my stress at having him here came out when I was writing Master G this week.

Remember what I said about how I thought Master G would own me eventually? Well, since writing that, he's written me.

Now he thinks he’s coming between Mistress and me, and he’s told me not to come over to his house to be his slave this week. And not come over possibly indefinitely.

I’ve cried so much about that. I feel horrible in so many ways.

I think my big mouth is fucking up everything important in my life.

I love Mistress. And I love Master G.

And I need to be a slave to them.

I told Mistress everything to make sure nothing was in the dark. I told her how strongly I feel about Master G. And how much I love him.

And she says she's okay with that.

But she's still annoyed at me because of some of the things we've talked about today.

Today sucks. In a lot of ways.

Mistress said she's going to talk to Master G tomorrow to try and sort things out.

Master G would be perfect for me. But I may have ruined everything.

*sighs*

La kajira. And all that.

Day 65 - On Making Tender Love to Master G, and Being Desired by Two Owners, and Deciding to Be a Metal Wild West Gunfighting Girl, and Realizing My Impending Financial Doom May Not Be That Bad a Thing

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Day 62 - On Mistress Becoming Serious About Owning Me, and Us Having a Nasty Verbal Fight, and Mistress Wanting to Write Us a Contract and Maybe Have Me Wear a Ring of Commitment, and Serving Master G Several Nights a Week

The last couple of days have been somewhat low key regarding my life with my Mistress, and yet I get a feeling things have turned a very important corner.

As mentioned in my previous posting, I wound up staying home the night before last by surprise, and Mistress took the occasion to take me out to dinner at Red Robin. Mistress decided afterward it wasn’t exactly a place we’ll be going back. Service was lousy. Lipstick was on my Mistress’s tea cup, and the Manager just laughed about it (he did try to make a little joke about the situation, but he still charged her for the tea). *shrugs* We still had fun, and it was a nice little outing.

Afterward, Mistress told me to contact Master G to discuss plans for me to serve him and his wife on a regular schedule … as in, two or three nights every week. Mistress feels that Master G and his wife could really use the help, and Mistress really likes Master G, and Master G could teach me some wonderful things he’s picked up during his decade in the lifestyle, and Mistress said she wants privacy at times (such as when her Master is over or when she’s with an intimate date), and said she sometimes actually likes being independent and handling things (such as cooking for herself) without a slave around. As glad as I am to be able to be with Master G and his wife so much, it concerned me that Mistress so quickly and casually decided to have Master G share in my Ownership so much, and I pondered such things as I headed to bed.

Along with doing the normal chores, I spent yesterday morning shopping with Mistress before heading out to be with my kids. Last night after I came home I was pretty happy but also pretty darn tired as well … more tired than a realized, which caused a quite unfortunate situation to erupt.

The puppyboy was there when I came home. He’s been suspended from his job, it seems, because he had at his workplace a sexually explicit catalog, which he gave to a friend, and the catalog was found in his friend’s desk, and things got traced back. The puppyboy was feeling rather unhappy about the whole thing, and I tried to cheer him up until he told me he was feeling rather depressed and suicidal, and for some reason that ticked me off. After my spending a year being incredibly depressed and suicidal, and my not having a job for a year and a half, for him to tell me he desperately needed to see a psychiatrist after being suspended for two days … just plain annoyed me.

And so I went to the kitchen to get a soda while he and Mistress talked, and I managed to knock over a glass of tea I had put in the fridge, causing it to spill over everything in the bottom part of the fridge and onto the floor, getting in the cracks and under the glass and into the veggie drawers and … I got pissed, way over the top. I started tossing things out of the fridge and swearing and making noise until I, very loudly, finished cleaning up everything. By then, the puppyboy had made his exit, and I went to Mistress, who (rightfully so) was extremely annoyed at me for making such a scene.

To be honest, I’m not sure why I exploded like I did except that I had some pent up stress and tiredness, and puppyboy acting like he did sort of lit a fuse. Oh, and the fact that I had done the same stupid thing a few nights earlier, causing coffee to spill all over everything. Oh, and the fact the kitchen was a total mess, with piles of dirty pots and pans and bowls and utensils everywhere, the signs of Mistress having made batches of chocolate-chip cookies while I was gone, and it was of course my job to clean it all up. And add to that the fact that the television was playing rather loudly in the background. My Asperger’s was in full gear last night, making it so the sounds of the TV in the background managed to distract me horribly, like the sounds of nails against a chalkboard. I hate having a TV on in the background when I’m trying to work or otherwise concentrate on something, and I told Mistress last night, and she told me angrily to just learn to live with it.

All that led to me going out with Mistress’s annoyed permission and getting some earplugs, which I used when I returned and started work on the kitchen mess. By then I was calmed down, more or less, and I lost myself for awhile in the meditative trance that comes when doing the chores – in this instance, the chore of cleaning up everything. Afterward I talked to Mistress and asked how things went with the puppyboy, and she told me she was rather unhappy at me because she felt the living room was a mess, and that it was my fault for failing to clean it during the last couple of days. And I responded that I hadn’t had time, and she attacked me for spending too much time on the Internet, and we went back and forth, and I started crying and I couldn’t take it and went upstairs.

I came back down and sat down on the stairs, still crying, and she angrily approached me and asked what exactly was wrong with me. And I told her that, in addition to everything, I was very stressed about my finances. Which were indeed stressing me out like crazy.

In case anybody hasn’t noticed, I haven’t been whooping and hollering about getting any jobs lately. Yep, all those jobs I applied for recently that seemed like great opportunities, and all those interviews which went so great, well … they all flopped for reasons beyond my knowledge. In just a little more than a month my unemployment will be running out. I was actually making significantly more than my ex at the time of the divorce (I was in software development), and even though we’re both unemployed, I’m the one paying child support because my unemployment check is larger. And I’m scared as all hell, because in about a month I’ll either likely be out of money or very likely I’ll be working a job making barely above minimum wage just to keep my head above water.

And I told that to Mistress, and I started bawling because I wanted so much to be a slave, but I was so afraid I’d be spending all my time on a lousy job away from her making just enough money to survive… and she got really pissed at me and said I was spoiled and said I needed to toughen up because a lot of people are having to work jobs they hate, and I will likely have to be one of them and so I’d better get used to the idea.

It was horrible. Mistress and I have never had an actual fight, and I felt afterward that I had finally totally screwed things up between us.

Mistress ended the conversation by demanding to know what I wanted of her. And I shakily told her I just wanted to be Owned by her. And she told me to make up a list of the things I felt being “Owned” meant to me, and I told her that being Owned meant simply … being Owned as property in every way. Even the Thralls of the Vikings, I thought, were guaranteed room and board by their Owners (assuming their Owners didn’t kill them, of course). And I told Mistress last night I was concerned about having to pay rent and everything, and she barked at me saying that we’ll handle things as they come, and she went to bed.

Today her attitude was a little different. In subtle ways, but in powerful ones.

For example, she said she wanted to draw up a formal contract. She wants to set in stone all of her rules and regulations, and everything she expects, and what punishments I will receive for failing or disobeying her. It was a total surprise to me, and she said she thinks we need it because she’s now feeling that we’ll be together potentially for a long time. She said the contract won’t be ready very soon, but it’ll definitely be needed once we reach our one-year anniversary … and I was thrilled and flabbergasted that she was assuming (particularly after last night) that we’ll be together that long!

And several times today, she directly ordered me to do something, and when I looked at her and started to question things respectfully, she ordered me to be quiet and do what I was told. Tonight she said she’s finally realized that she doesn’t have to explain herself to me, and from now on she won’t most of the time, but will instead expect me to obey her without question.

At another point in the day, I nervously asked her if instead of the necklace she gave me (which is her collar that I wear), if today I could wear a necklace that Master G’s wife gave me (which is thick and beautiful and violet, my favorite color). And Mistress said she didn’t have any problem with me doing that … as long as I ALWAYS remembered that I was collared by her and that I was her property.

And Mistress said she’s also thinking about getting me a ring (!!!) to represent publicly that I’m taken, and that I’m Owned by her to all the world.

And when I mentioned how Master G wrote me back and he was very happy with the idea of co-owning me several days each week, Mistress said that although Master G will be my her proxy and I treat him like my Owner in all respects when she’s not around, when Mistress is around I am to ALWAYS remember that she is my true Owner in every respect.

She’s more aloof from me than normal. We were very busy all day from the moment we awoke, but we’re busy a lot of days. Today, however, Mistress was more serious. Playful, but, without a doubt, always in control.

It’s very clear – she Owns me. I think whatever doubts she might have had in the past about that are quickly melting away. And she’s acting on that knowledge.

At one point I told her how happy I am that she Owns me, and I asked her if she’s happy Owning me, and she said, “What choice do I have?” in that she was expressing that she felt she was committed now and couldn’t get rid of me if she wanted to. I mentioned Master G may want to own me and might buy me from her, and that’s when she mentioned the ring all of a sudden, and I was a bit swept away by emotion for a few minutes afterward, even as I was continuing to work (I was making dinner for her when she told me of her idea).

I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future. But I have a distinct feeling that wherever my path may lead, I’ll be wearing a collar, and I’ll be Owned by my Mistress for a while.

And it sounds good to me. *smiles*

La kajira!

Day 60 - On Boring Porn, Fucking a Puppyboy from the Top, Wanting a Guy to Fuck Me While I'm on Bottom, Attending a Class on Protocol, and Steampunk Coming Soon!

I’m sitting at the top of the stairs, typing on my laptop. I came up here to get away from the distractions downstairs.

Hardcore porn is playing on the big-screen TV in the living room. A nubile blonde sucks some guy’s cock on the video while my Mistress is sucking her Master’s cock while he sits back in one of the Lazy Boy chairs.

Mistress enjoys such videos. I just roll my eyes. Porn bores me for the most part. I’m not saying there isn’t porn out there that I might potentially enjoy, but as a friend told me a long time ago, “What’s the point of watching people having more fun than you’re having?” Although, I admit, since Mistress and her Master are duplicating right now what’s happening on the screen, I guess what my friend said doesn’t really apply here.

The last few days haven’t been overly exciting, at least as far as things worth posting in my blog. We visited the puppyboy again two days ago, and this time I got the chance to climb on top of him after I had sucked him to hardness. He came twice in me, with his cum soaking both of us. I orgasmed twice as well, but they were little ones. *shrugs* I wasn’t really into it that night, so it was no real big deal for me.

I’m sick of fucking guys from the top. That’s what overweight guys all seem to want. The last time I had sex from the bottom was the night I went home with that muscle-built construction worker. Yeah, he was so powerful and huge he stretched me to the point of painfulness. But … wow … was he memorable. And he took me like a woman WANTS to be taken. Mmmmm ….

Yesterday I spent far too much time responding to a new comic posted on Collar6. I got all protective of the main character (a consensual slave named Laura) after it was revealed that her Mistress had slipped an aphrodisiac into Laura’s coffee without her knowledge, and the Mistress and a maid were both laughing about how they were about to have fun with the shy, innocent, tender slave after getting her into a heavy bondage suit and taking her to a harem for wild sex in the basement. The strip has been incredibly sweet and loving in places up to this point, and to see it potentially change like that really bothered me because I identify with Laura in a lot of ways. If you want, you can read my rather convoluted rantings there at: Collar6 - Potentcy - Comments

Last night I went to a session on protocol at The Sanctuary BDSM club in Denver. Besides the two very experienced Masters who presented it, the only people who showed up were me, one of the Master’s slaves, a 24-year-old woman who has been in the BDSM lifestyle for eight years (yes, I’m not kidding … she started when she was 16), and the girl’s boyfriend, who was really the only person there who didn’t already know everything taught in the class. The girl was pretty cool, but I was REALLY envious, because I can barely imagine what it would have been like to have been introduced to all this when I was that young. What’s even more amazing (at least, to me) is that her mom found out about her activities, and in response, her mom invited her to a BDSM play party! Yep … her mom was into the lifestyle as well, and was a long-term die-hard Gorean. Beats having ultra-conservative Southern Baptist parents, like I had.

Speaking of my childhood, somebody wrote me today asking, as background for a story, whether I had always longed to be a slave, and whether it all made sense (like a lightbulb coming on) after I was finally exposed to it. Here was my response:

~~~~~~~~~

I'd love to help! Your questions have me going back in thought on my life. Sometimes, thinking like that brings back unpleasant memories, but in this case, the feelings are quite warm.

A quick overview of my life might be useful. I was raised by two very conservative religious parents in Texas, and, for all intents and purposes, they way they treated me set me up to be a nice, submissive, obedient housewife. I was often as a child publicly humiliated for even simple disobedience, and my mother would pull down my pants and undies in front of other people then discipline me with a switch freshly broken from a tree. Despite all that, they spoiled me as well in many ways regarding household chores, but that was, I believe, because my mother was also extremely subservient, and she would quickly obey everything my father told her to do, and would get all freaky if anything in the house was out of order. And so I was taught to be a perfectly obedient but lazy slave, if that makes sense. *sighs* I've debated with myself for decades the old nature versus nurture debate -- whether I'm slave-hearted and they realized that in their treatment of me, or whether their treatment of me made me that way, but either way what they did certainly helped foster it. I've heard people say that, "All slaves seek their parents at heart," and that may truly be the case.

Because I was so intelligent (at least, in school), my parents decided I would go to college and be an engineer (it was their choice, not mine). I didn't do well, despite my intelligence, and after graduating I felt a longing for something I couldn't quite put my finger on. After struggling to survive on my own, I soon found somebody quite dominant (so much that, while we were still dating, they raided my closet and threw away any "undesired" possessions, and I didn't complain), and we were consequently married for about 17 years.

I can safely say that SecondLife destroyed our marriage, but not because I was addicted to it. Instead, it exposed me to something truly amazing -- the BDSM community. Even more so, it was there I discovered Gor. My spouse considered BDSM to be obscene and would not allow me to explore it, and my Internet usage and social life was largely restricted, so I was very sheltered in many ways and I didn't know there were people who lived in formal "Dominant/submissive" lifestyles, or especially in "Master/slave" ones. A few weeks into SecondLife, however, my submissiveness became clear to the people working in (and visiting) the stripper/escort bar where I worked online (and, yes, I kept my SecondLife activities secret, and would usually only get online after my ex was in bed or not in the house). One of the people there took control of me, and I loved it. She taught me a bit about the idea of being owned, and to me, this was perfectly natural and wonderful, as if finally I had found my calling in life. I think it was only a few days later that I accidentally followed him/her into a Gorean sim and ... the lightbulb that had been turned on by that dominant suddenly flared into an almost blinding intensity. I knew then I had found my home, and before I knew it I was serving naked as a kajira (a Gorean female slave) on the docks of an online city known as Port Cos.

I had to know even more, and I discreetly sought out a real-life Gorean group, and I told my spouse I was going to a meeting with a group of fantasy roleplayers. I was collared by the Master of a local Gorean household and remained a weekend slave for months before I got a little scared of where things were going (I've since learned that Master has a reputation in the community for being a bit too extreme, and I'm not the only person he scares a bit.) I gave up SecondLife and tried to keep the marriage going but ... it didn't work in the long run. I had been given a taste of forbidden fruit of knowledge, and the siren song of the collar continued to play it's irresistible tune in my heart day and night.

In late 2006, when my ex and I were already talking divorce, I returned to SecondLife on a lark, and that proved to me my undoing ... as far as being a free woman goes. I returned to Gor, where I was collared by people who realized my true nature. The dream of being a kajira, existing only to please and serve, grabbed hold of my mind so tightly that I became addicted to SecondLife, living there as much as possible to the great detriment of my real life. I became totally immersed in the online slave culture, and I was soon being courted by men who wanted me to be their slave in real life. That began a journey that resulted in me at one point being a weekend slave in a different Gorean household for about six months, then spending about four months very directly and determinedly seeking somebody who could own me full time. After getting to know dozens of potential Masters (and serving in the households of several of them), I met my Mistress as she sat at the side of her Master and ... the rest is history.

Gaaah! Did I say "quick" overview??? *chuckles* That's what you get for asking a writer a simple question!

And to boil things down ... I believe I've always had a slave heart, but I didn't know it. I longed for being the property of somebody, being owned totally, but I couldn't find words or thoughts to express my desires. If I had known it when I was young, I believe my life would have been a much better, happier one, because I could have pursued the right path for me from the start.

And when I was finally exposed to it after decades of ignorance, it was definitely like a lightbulb going off. I knew that this was the heart of my inner feelings and self identity in so many ways, and once the door was opened, there was no closing it ever again.

~~~~~~~~~

After last night’s class, I went home with Master G (who was one of the presenters), and we talked and touched tenderly for a long time. I care for him deeply, and he said he feels the same for me. Mistress knows, and she said she’s going to work out a schedule with him to allow me to go over on a regular basis and stay the night, basically resulting in me being shared between them in most ways. I can hardly wait!!!

And … to my shock … he’s into Steampunk!!! I LOVE STEAMPUNK!!! He’s even teaching a class on it next week at The Sanctuary, and there will be a Steampunk party the following weekend. I’ll be going with him to both in costume, and that will be SOOO KEWL!!!

*giggles*

And on that note, time to run off to see my kids for awhile. Enjoy!!!

La kajira!!!

Day 57 - On Being Fucked by Mistress's Master and Enjoying It, But Being Told By Mistress I Still Can't Trust Him, and On Setting Rules and a Chore List That Makes Mistress and Me Quite Happy

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