A blizzard of snow and an explosion of carrots have got me rather tired and a bit achy today.
Yep! *giggles*
Master has given me a half-hour break to rest before dinner. I’ve spent the last couple of hours cleaning tiny bits of carrot out from underneath the kitchen sink and everywhere around it. It’s amazing how many little cracks and hard-to-reach spaces there are under there, and I had to admit to Master that I wouldn’t be able to get every single bit of the orange veggie from the darkest recesses. He laughed it off, and afterward he called me to his knees, hugged me tightly, kissed my head, told me he was quite proud of me, and asked me how I was doing. I smiles, incredibly happy at his praise, and told him I was tired but otherwise feeling great, and he kissed me again and sent me off to rest.
The carrots didn’t actually explode, mind you. Yesterday Master and M’Lady were at the bulk-foods store (Costco), and Master asked me if there was anything in particular I enjoyed eating. I couldn’t think of much until he mentioned he had a juicer, and I jumped excitedly and begged him for a big bunch of carrots, because I absolutely LOVE carrot juice!
Well, today, Master got out his juicer to make watermelon juice for himself (he uses everything, rinds and all, which he says have antioxidants), and then it was my turn. All went well until I tried to get all the carrot pulp to go through the disposal. The pulp clogged up the drainpipe a bit, and when Master saw it, he proceeded to get the plunger to push it through. Well … it so happened that the pipe was actually broken already, and when Master used the plunger, the carrot shrapnel went flying all over the space under the sink, causing a huge mess.
I shrugged, sighed and set down to work at seeing it, cleaning a space for Master to get in to examine the pipe. Seeing the problem (he’s REALLY smart), he went off to the hardware store for needed parts while I cleaned up.
M’Lady came by and didn’t say much, instead just watching briefly to make sure I did a good job. She did, however, take advantage of my work by accepting my offer of a glass of carrot juice. And that made it all worth it, because M’Lady has a tendency to eat a junky diet, and anything I can do to help encourage her to eat or drink healthy foods makes me feel wonderful (and carrot juice is SO good for her!!! *bounces happily*).
Tonight we’re all going to the Denver Sanctuary BDSM club for their annual Halloween party. Mistress is letting me borrow a splendid “Queen of Hearts” outfit that’s really sexy, and I can’t wait to go.
It’s great that the weather is finally cleared off, too. A few days ago we had a humongous blizzard that closed down the city prettymuch, and we were snowed in for a couple of days. There was actually a bit of concern for awhile that the snow would continue to the weekend, ruining Halloween for everybody, but … horray! The weather’s cold but othewise great!
The worst part about the snow to me was the fact that I wasn’t able to see my kids yet this week, and I really miss them. But tomorrow I’ll be with them, and my ex and I are planning that I see them extran next week to make up for this week, so things should be sweet! *grins happily*
I feel a bit depressed about today, though. Master and M’Lady don’t give out candy to Trick or Treaters. And I wasn’t able to go with my kids to the Halloween Carnival at the local high school because of the blizzard. This is the first year in decades . . . maybe ever . . . that Trick or Treating hasn’t been part of the holiday for me. No kids today. No happy faces thrilled at the candy you give them. No little boys and girls dressed as fairies and super heroes and princesses and ninjas. My son was dressed as a ghoul with glowing eyes. My daughter was dressed as Hermione from Harry Potty. I haven’t seen their costumes. Okay, I’m definitely depressed about this.I’m going to the Halloween party tonight with Master and M’Lady but . . . to me, Halloween is about kids. And I feel like this is the first year ever I’ll be missing Halloween.
*sighs*
Although Master got the driveway cleared enough to get out to check the mail for his business yesterday (a neighborhood boy wanted to do it for some cash, and Master decided to have him do it instead of me), finishing the job was left in my hands today (my car was still snowed in, and the sidewalks still needed to be uncovered). Let’s just say I got my exercise today! *grins*
Eeep. The half hour’s up … time to make dinner! Back later!
. . .
Dinner was . . . draining. Tonight’s recipe (“Pork and Aspargus over Linguine”) was surprisingly complicated, and the recipe he gave me turned out to be missing an important sentence that caused some definite confusion. Master, seeing my befuddlement, came in and gave me some cooking pointers, some about things I didn’t know, and some about things I should have known but was too brain dead to notice (such as the fact that I should have cut up everything ahead of time, and that the linquine should have been timed to be done at the end instead of near the beginning).
Everything turned out fine in the end, but I was so mentally exhausted at one point that I came very close to breaking down crying with frustration and sorrow that I might not be pleasing my Owner.
He is my life. My everything.
My journal lately too much has been talking about my activities. I don’t know whether I’m talking enough about my heart.
I love my Owner. I want him to own me mind, body and soul. I want him to use me completely in every way.
I realized last night, and I told him today, that there is a reason I’m slightly masochistic.
My masochism is directed only toward my Owners.
By being hurt by them against my wishes, it reaffirms their true ownership of me. And, to me, the bliss of knowing that brings a joy beyond words.
Ton ight Master sent me something to ponder … a writing by an anonymous author … about slavery. He wanted my opnion on it, and we’ll be discussing it on the way to the Sanctuary tonight.
The writing reaffirms what I told him. Entitled “Slave: A Unique Definition,” it’s printed at the end of today’s post.
I don’t agree with everything in it, as I think the writer was a bit too pretentious. But, at heart, it’s right in so many ways.
Things have been so different here in so many ways from being with Mistress.
With Mistress, there was a sexual passion that lingered in the air, making things charged at all times. There was an awareness that I was to be ready at all times to be used for my womanhood, and that my mouth was to be ready at all times to be placed around a visitor’s cock. Mistress would spank me and pinch me and tickle me unexpectedly at any time in a way that gave me wonderful proof over and over again that she truly owned me. There was a looseness of protocol at most times, yet a unique strictness. And the feelings shifted between Mistress seeing me as her slave and as her sister.
Here, indeed, I know I am a slave, without a doubt.
But the sexual tension isn’t there. I am a Victorian slave, not a medieval one, I guess. I have to be on my toes more to make sure the particular desires of Master and M’Lady are always fulfilled. Everything is in its proper place at all times. I am more of a slave here than with Mistress, and less.
It is, simply put, different.
I fit better here, I feel. Master clearly wants to keep me as his slave indefinitely, with the intention of supporting me financially in all ways needed. There is so much I can do here I couldn’t do for Mistress.
But I’m still getting used to things.
Fortunately, Master is quite patient.
And I have to be, as well.
La kajira!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
slave - a unique definition
A slave is a truly enraptured and enrapturing creature, capable of the greatest pain and the deepest passion. She is a temperamental creature, simultaneously fickle in her emotions, and fiercely, ferociously devoted in her affection.
She is tumultuous and tempestuous, a mercurial maelstrom, and she knows noother way to be. If she could, she would not change, because, on some primeval level, she realizes that the death of her passion would be the death of her.
In truth, a slave is not simply the finest of all creatures; she is the epitome of all creatures. She combines strength and weakness, boldness and a certain shy innocence, languor and desperation; she is both cosmopolitan and naive. Her nature is an amalgam of all that is passionate in any sense of the word. She is nothing without an owner, but in his arms, she is all things.
She is voracious and demanding, wanting nothing more, and certainly nothing less, than the absolute enslavement of the one she loves--the owner of her soul. She cannot be, will not be, and is incapable of being completely happy, until she knows to the very depths of her being that her owner is, in truth, owned by the reality of owning her.
She longs for the completion of a partner in her own rapture/misery. If you beat her, she will smile at you through her tears, because you have reaffirmed for her your ownership, your innate right to mistreat her if you please. If you kiss her, she will bite you, begging you with her passion to own her again, and more completely this time.
She is dangerous and daring. Self-preservation will never be her strong suit. She will beguile you to her last breath, knowing that without you, she cannot breathe at all. Her vulnerability will appall you with the knowledge that you could never-would never-- allow anyone that close to you, and at the same time, arouse in you every protective instinct you possess, to see that no one ever ravages this state of her-- except you.
She will define her entire world by your moods, enchanting herself with them, until she has internalized them so completely that a single look from you can bring her to laughter, or to tears, or to orgasm, or to suicide. She will love you with an abandon that will leave you stunned.
She will worry you, and nag you; she will threaten and cajole. And she will do it because she is incapable of holding back from you, even though she knows that you will pay it all no immediate heed, because your attention is your whim. She will revel in your denial of her pleasure. It only confirms her own desire.
But do not be misled. She is clever and she is fleet, and she will give you all you can handle and more. She knows her own value, and is not afraid to demand repayment in kind. She is not for the faint of heart, body, mind or resolve.
She will tax your every breath, your every thought, your every move. She is responsibility for something far greater than yourself and her independence in that will confound you.
Be wary, be attentive. Devastate her if you can, but know that she will only thank you for it if you do. And much to your consternation, she will politely, sweetly, touchingly beg you to do it again. And still she will want more.
But never destroy her adoration for you by withholding your own. Never give her cause to doubt it, because if you do, she will exact retribution and it will be the greatest agony you have ever known. She will withdraw from you. She will take her love and walk away without hesitation, because she is enslaved only by her love for you, and without that love, your power over her is gone.
She will leave you cold. And when she does, you will finally know that all along, you needed her too.
Showing posts with label masochism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label masochism. Show all posts
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Day 80 - On Finding My Dream of Total Ownership, On Making a Lot of Mistakes, On Sitting Out a Blizzard, and on Missing Trick or Treating with My Kids for the First Time
My dreams have been fulfilled. Everything I was looking for when I decided to follow the path of consensual slavery has arrived. I’ve hit the big time as far as being a consensual slave goes.
I’m owned. Truly and completely now. Owned.
Master called me to kneel at his feet yesterday and bade me look him in the eyes. Then he told me firmly and calmly, “I don’t want you to ever worry about money again. I take care of my property. I will be fully responsible for you from now on. I will provide for your children’s expenses. I will pay for your insurance. I will give you the money you need to survive. You are mine.”
I stared at him with shock. Tears formed in my eyes. And I thrust myself forward and hugged him for a very long time while he hugged me back.
And I looked into his eyes and told him I loved him and thanked him over and over.
This is my life now. Full time.
I’m a slave.
And I love it.
Today we registered for a coming Master/slave regional conference in Phoenix we’ll be attending in January. We’ll be flying out together and staying for four days. We went over the list of activities and classes that will be taught. It’s incredible.
The conference is called the Southwest Leather Conference. You can find out about it here. http://www.southwestleather.org/swlchome/index.php
Among other events there, he and I will both be taking part in something known as the “Dance of Souls.” Our skin will be pierced, then fishing line will be thread through to hold small bells onto our skin.
And we will dance a wild frenzy of ecstacy.
It sounds horrible. I remember when I was invited to see a Sun Dance on the Northern Cheyenne Indian Reservation years ago and I saw somebody who was hanging from the ceiling with their weight suspended from hooks through their flesh. (At least, that’s what it looked like they were doing). I shuddered at the sight and never forgot it, thinking such was something I could never stand to do for any reason.
Now I’m going to be experiencing a version of it.
I expect it will be nothing short of a euphoria made from pain and pleasure combined. I was told by Master (who has done it before) that it is a spiritual experience beyond words.
Things are continuing to go wonderfully here. Oh, I’m making mistakes, of course. There’s so much to learn. Everything has its place and is done in a particular way.
And the house is so big. It took me almost two hours just to clean Master’s bathroom yesterday, and equally long to clean Mistress’s.
But Master is wonderfully collected about making sure I know what I’m doing wrong so I can learn from it.
M’Lady isn’t always so kind. Such as tonight, during dinner. I cooked Lime Shrimp with Pasta. And I overcooked the shrimp, and M’Lady said it was “awful.”
And she hated the chicken pot pie I made for her a couple of days ago, even though everybody else I’ve made it for has loved it. And she snaps at me if I ever leave a room without turning off the lights, or for eating with the bowl in my lap while I was on the couch instead of leaning forward uncomfortably to eat from the table. And so on.
But although M’Lady is a bit caustic at times, she’s still a wonderful, loving woman at heart, and I love serving her as well.
And she did like the sauce and the pasta tonight enough to have a large dose of seconds. Just without the shrimp. Which I thought were quite yummy (I thought the texture accented the pasta perfectly), but it’s not my opinion that counts, of course.
M’Lady is a notoriously picky eater, by the way. She’s quite picky about everything! But, hey, that’s part of my life now, and if she gets picky, then I just make sure I pay extra care to the details!
It’s not just M’Lady who corrects me, of course.
Saturday night at the Sanctuary BDSM club, Master decided it was time for us to go home, and he ordered me to get our coats and my purse. As I picked up my purse, I saw a hand puppet of a witch inside (I had put it there and forgot), and I took it out and started doing improv puppetry, playing up the old witch’s personalty to the hilt while interacting with the people around me to everybody’s merriment. Curious at hearing a burst of laughter coming from the coat room, Master walked in to see the witch puppet (with me controlling it) standing on the bald head of a different Master, then sliding off onto his shoulder while saying, “Hey! Did you just wax that thing?” In response, Master grabbed my ponytail and pulled me hard to the ground with a very disapproving glare, and we left very quickly.
Master today told me that although everybody was enjoying it, I got lucky because a lot of people at the club, particularly dominants would not have liked a slave mocking them, even with a puppet. Also, he said he had told me to get the coats so we could leave, and instead he found me playing with a puppet.
I’ve learned a lesson, and a quick one. And I won’t forget it. And he said that’s what’s important – not that I made the mistake, but that I don’t do it again.
Things are serious now. But it’s my life, and it’s perfect for me.
*sighs and looks outside at the piled up snow*
I was going to take my kids Trick or Treating tonight at a local high school’s pre-Halloween event. I’ve taken them every year since they were infants, and I really wanted to do it again this year, but they’re both going with friends Halloween night, and so tonight at this event was my one chance.
Unfortunately, a a blizzard hit and there’s currently about 20 inches of snow on the ground (more or less), and it was canceled.
It’s going to be weird not going with my kids Trick or Treating this year but ... they’re finally old enough to go with friends by themselves. *sighs* They’re only seven and 10, but they’re growing up, and that’s both happy and sad in different ways.
Sunday with them was great. We went to the zoo together and had a blast, and my daughter and I did her homework together for hours.
Knowing Master will be my benefactor gives me such great peace because I know I don’t have to worry anymore about the awful job market. I’ve found my place. And my kids will be cared for as needed.
And I’ll be able to help my ex by taking care of them while my ex is in school if needed.
I’ll be able to be there for them when they need me. *smiles*
Master was going to be gone, too. Tonight, he was going to assist with a discussion group at the Sanctuary BDSM club for new people into the lifestyle.
As a result, we curled up together and watched a special about werewolves on the History Channel.
So far, he hasn’t actually played with me yet (BDSM-wise, that is), despite the fact he repeatedly says he’s a sadist, and he has a whole basement full of toys (along with a decade of experience). He told me tonight I’m still on a “honeymoon.”
I’m so tempted to tell him I recently realized I’m a bit of a masochist. But ... would I be spoiling the true effect of having him only do it when I don’t want it by telling him? Hmmm ...
And on that note, I think I’ll post this, and go see if Master might want to ... talk ... about something on my mind.
*bites my lip nervously and grins*
La kajira!
I’m owned. Truly and completely now. Owned.
Master called me to kneel at his feet yesterday and bade me look him in the eyes. Then he told me firmly and calmly, “I don’t want you to ever worry about money again. I take care of my property. I will be fully responsible for you from now on. I will provide for your children’s expenses. I will pay for your insurance. I will give you the money you need to survive. You are mine.”
I stared at him with shock. Tears formed in my eyes. And I thrust myself forward and hugged him for a very long time while he hugged me back.
And I looked into his eyes and told him I loved him and thanked him over and over.
This is my life now. Full time.
I’m a slave.
And I love it.
Today we registered for a coming Master/slave regional conference in Phoenix we’ll be attending in January. We’ll be flying out together and staying for four days. We went over the list of activities and classes that will be taught. It’s incredible.
The conference is called the Southwest Leather Conference. You can find out about it here. http://www.southwestleather.org/swlchome/index.php
Among other events there, he and I will both be taking part in something known as the “Dance of Souls.” Our skin will be pierced, then fishing line will be thread through to hold small bells onto our skin.
And we will dance a wild frenzy of ecstacy.
It sounds horrible. I remember when I was invited to see a Sun Dance on the Northern Cheyenne Indian Reservation years ago and I saw somebody who was hanging from the ceiling with their weight suspended from hooks through their flesh. (At least, that’s what it looked like they were doing). I shuddered at the sight and never forgot it, thinking such was something I could never stand to do for any reason.
Now I’m going to be experiencing a version of it.
I expect it will be nothing short of a euphoria made from pain and pleasure combined. I was told by Master (who has done it before) that it is a spiritual experience beyond words.
Things are continuing to go wonderfully here. Oh, I’m making mistakes, of course. There’s so much to learn. Everything has its place and is done in a particular way.
And the house is so big. It took me almost two hours just to clean Master’s bathroom yesterday, and equally long to clean Mistress’s.
But Master is wonderfully collected about making sure I know what I’m doing wrong so I can learn from it.
M’Lady isn’t always so kind. Such as tonight, during dinner. I cooked Lime Shrimp with Pasta. And I overcooked the shrimp, and M’Lady said it was “awful.”
And she hated the chicken pot pie I made for her a couple of days ago, even though everybody else I’ve made it for has loved it. And she snaps at me if I ever leave a room without turning off the lights, or for eating with the bowl in my lap while I was on the couch instead of leaning forward uncomfortably to eat from the table. And so on.
But although M’Lady is a bit caustic at times, she’s still a wonderful, loving woman at heart, and I love serving her as well.
And she did like the sauce and the pasta tonight enough to have a large dose of seconds. Just without the shrimp. Which I thought were quite yummy (I thought the texture accented the pasta perfectly), but it’s not my opinion that counts, of course.
M’Lady is a notoriously picky eater, by the way. She’s quite picky about everything! But, hey, that’s part of my life now, and if she gets picky, then I just make sure I pay extra care to the details!
It’s not just M’Lady who corrects me, of course.
Saturday night at the Sanctuary BDSM club, Master decided it was time for us to go home, and he ordered me to get our coats and my purse. As I picked up my purse, I saw a hand puppet of a witch inside (I had put it there and forgot), and I took it out and started doing improv puppetry, playing up the old witch’s personalty to the hilt while interacting with the people around me to everybody’s merriment. Curious at hearing a burst of laughter coming from the coat room, Master walked in to see the witch puppet (with me controlling it) standing on the bald head of a different Master, then sliding off onto his shoulder while saying, “Hey! Did you just wax that thing?” In response, Master grabbed my ponytail and pulled me hard to the ground with a very disapproving glare, and we left very quickly.
Master today told me that although everybody was enjoying it, I got lucky because a lot of people at the club, particularly dominants would not have liked a slave mocking them, even with a puppet. Also, he said he had told me to get the coats so we could leave, and instead he found me playing with a puppet.
I’ve learned a lesson, and a quick one. And I won’t forget it. And he said that’s what’s important – not that I made the mistake, but that I don’t do it again.
Things are serious now. But it’s my life, and it’s perfect for me.
*sighs and looks outside at the piled up snow*
I was going to take my kids Trick or Treating tonight at a local high school’s pre-Halloween event. I’ve taken them every year since they were infants, and I really wanted to do it again this year, but they’re both going with friends Halloween night, and so tonight at this event was my one chance.
Unfortunately, a a blizzard hit and there’s currently about 20 inches of snow on the ground (more or less), and it was canceled.
It’s going to be weird not going with my kids Trick or Treating this year but ... they’re finally old enough to go with friends by themselves. *sighs* They’re only seven and 10, but they’re growing up, and that’s both happy and sad in different ways.
Sunday with them was great. We went to the zoo together and had a blast, and my daughter and I did her homework together for hours.
Knowing Master will be my benefactor gives me such great peace because I know I don’t have to worry anymore about the awful job market. I’ve found my place. And my kids will be cared for as needed.
And I’ll be able to help my ex by taking care of them while my ex is in school if needed.
I’ll be able to be there for them when they need me. *smiles*
Master was going to be gone, too. Tonight, he was going to assist with a discussion group at the Sanctuary BDSM club for new people into the lifestyle.
As a result, we curled up together and watched a special about werewolves on the History Channel.
So far, he hasn’t actually played with me yet (BDSM-wise, that is), despite the fact he repeatedly says he’s a sadist, and he has a whole basement full of toys (along with a decade of experience). He told me tonight I’m still on a “honeymoon.”
I’m so tempted to tell him I recently realized I’m a bit of a masochist. But ... would I be spoiling the true effect of having him only do it when I don’t want it by telling him? Hmmm ...
And on that note, I think I’ll post this, and go see if Master might want to ... talk ... about something on my mind.
*bites my lip nervously and grins*
La kajira!
Monday, October 26, 2009
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*
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*
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