Master’s gone, and I feel weird.
He and M’Lady flew out to Las Vegas today to attend an adult-industry trade show, leaving me all alone in the house until Monday afternoon. I haven’t been alone (except while driving in my car) for months, and I have to admit that the big house feels a bit spooky tonight.
Give me a chance to go hiking, and I can go out by myself (or in the company of a dog) for a pretty darn long time. But I’m at heart a country girl – I grew up on a ranch in Texas – and when I’m in a developed area I prefer to not be alone.
I remember the first night I spent in an apartment after my ex and I divorced almost two years ago. We had been together for almost 20 years. I didn’t sleep a wink that night. I cried almost non-stop, and at some points I was wailing in anguish. A lot has happened since then, however, and I’ve gotten used to solitude, to a degree. But I’ve never been happy with it, which I figure is part of the reason I was so addicted to SecondLife – because I wanted the feeling that there were always other people within easy reach of my thoughts, ready to interact with me. There was always another world besides this one I could escape to.
I went through a year of hell during the following 12 months. I experienced the darkest depths of my life and sank to truly the deepest pits of my soul.
But that was then, and this is now. I don’t want to escape from reality anymore. I’m closer to my children than ever before, and we love each other deeply. I’ve found true fulfillment being a slave for a man who I believe is one of the best Masters anybody could ever hope to encounter. Things aren’t perfect, but I’ve found peace and happiness.
If you want to compare life as a slave to a video game (which is a strange concept, I admit), then lately I feel like I’ve “level upped” -- in that now that I’ve pretty much achieved the necessary level of experience at the rudimentary skills of Master’s household, he’s both hitting me with more complex assignments and penalizing me more harshly when I fail. He’s increasing his level of expectation of me as his slave, which makes me feel good at knowing he’s satisfied with my past performance while making me more stressed at having to deal with his fine tuning of my abilities. When I made little mistakes at first, he put up with them – but now he very clearly shows his annoyance (at least, some of the time). Fortunately, though, I’m now have enough self confidence at what I’m doing that seeing his dissatisfaction doesn’t make me want to crumple into a ball of tears. Instead, I realize that it’s an indication that he knows I’m worthy of tougher situations and I’m being held to higher requirements of perfection.
Enough rambling on the subject – time for a case point, being last week, when he called me on the carpet (actually, on the hard-wood floor at his feet) over the fact that I bought brown eggs from cage-free chickens at the supermarket. During one of our first shopping excursions together, I recommended to Master that he purchase “cage-free” eggs because I thought they were more humane for the chickens, but Master told me he did not want to spend the extra money for what he considered a “political” issue. A few days ago, when I was shopping, I saw that the cage-free eggs were on sale (for less than a dollar more than normal eggs), and I bought them along with the rest of the groceries. That night, however, after he had a rather frustrating day, Master expressed his annoyance and disappointment in me because he felt I was directly disobeying an order and wasting money against his explicit instructions. He was very stern and very intense in his expression of unhappiness, and made no bones about the fact that he expected me to give him my full obedience in all things as his slave without exception. I was hurt and ashamed, but it was a case of misunderstanding, and I explained it to him calmly (and a bit nervously). I thought it was the amount of money that originally concerned him, and the fact that the eggs were on sale (plus the fact that this brand of eggs had added anti-oxidants) made me feel I would be able to make a judgment call and to make the purchase without asking his approval.
We talked in circles for a little while before we fully understood each other, and Master made it very clear that his orders were ORDERS, and that I was not to ever make an exception to his instructions without asking him first. Once he was confident I understood that, he dismissed me, and after I had left the room he took it upon himself to research the validity of whether there might actually be a valid reason to purchase cage-free eggs. He concluded from reading some Internet articles that there is no health benefit to cage-free eggs, the diet of the hens is the same as for hens in cages, cage-free hens might still be in extremely cramped quarters, and there is no government regulation regarding the term “cage free,” so in light of all that he said he doesn’t want me to purchase cage-free eggs in the future. The fact that he took the trouble to research the issue after our discussion truly warmed my heart and showed me yet again how wise and considerate he is as a Master, and together we grew closer from the incident, I feel.
A few days before that incident, another issue arose. That time, I really upset Master, so much that we missed an outing at the Sanctuary BDSM club. Well, what happened is that one night a couple of weeks early I had forgotten to check the stove was off before we left (I had cooked dinner as normal that night), and I told Master about my concern just as we were pulling out of the driveway. He stopped the car, clearly annoyed, and told me to check it and come back in a hurry. I did (the stove was safely off) and we went on our way, with Master telling me never to do that again. Unfortunately, the night after Christmas, I did do it again, but worse. After we had left the driveway and were starting to go down the street, again to the Sanctuary, I suddenly thought for sure I had left on the stove, and I told Master of my concern. Immediately seeing his anger at my words, I said I would call M’Lady and ask her to check the stove. And I called over and over as Master drove further and further from the house, but M’Lady didn’t pick up the phone. Eventually Master turned around and went back, and I ran in – only to find that I had turned off the stove after all. I ran back out to Master, only to find that he was coming back inside with his “toy” bag (of floggers and paddles), and he took off his coat and hung it up as I watched in with deep guilt in my heart. We would have been about 15 minutes later than planned, but Master was so upset at me that he cancelled plans entirely. He said he had lost all desire to go that night after what I had done, and he went upstairs and spent the rest of the evening on his computer.
The thing is, if I had been a new slave, he might have expected such mistakes, but now he’s expecting that I won’t be so irresponsible, and when I was, it really irritated him. I was crushed by what I had done, because I knew I had ruined the evening for him, and my life truly is dedicated to his happiness. But I didn’t scream or break down emotionally. I took it calmly. After collapsing dejectedly but quietly onto the floor near the couch, dazed, I thought about the situation for a long time, calmed myself down, and decided to move forward with the evening by apologizing to Master, swearing I would find a way to make sure from now on that I have a safety checklist I go over before leaving the house, and then I did chores into the evening (completing a very long assignment that involved sorting a huge stack of nearly a half year of household payment receipts). I also realized I hadn’t been able to get hold of M’Lady because I had incorrectly programmed Master’s cell phone as his home phone. Master seemed okay by the end of the night, but I stayed largely away from him, letting him wind down in peace while doing my best not to bother him, and we went on with our lives, with me hopefully becoming a better slave in the process.
And that’s not all, folks. Remember that big Christmas dinner I made for Master and M’Lady? Well, I got the idea for it after I a trip to my chiropractor in a nearby city a in early December, and afterward I went shopping casually at a nearby store that specializes in imported British goods. I bought several of the necessary items at the time, and the shopkeeper (whose parents owned the place) became friendly with me. I had met the guy several months earlier before I was with Master, at a time when I was considering being a copywriter, and I had attempted to convince the guy to contract me to make a Website for his business. He’s a computer Luddite, with no e-mail address or anything, and he couldn’t see the value of advertising his store on the Internet. Nonetheless, after all that time he remembered me when I came in, which was a bit flattering. By the end he was flirting just a bit, even to the point of suggesting we could get together when he was off work, and I smiled at the idea and told Master later, feeling a bit good about the attention. The guy is cute is a nerdy Rowan Atkinson type of way, and thoughts of him popped into my mind at times afterward.
Well, right before Christmas I needed to head back to that area, and while there I made it a point to stop by the shop to get some final things for the dinner preparation, and that guy and I flirted again -- a lot, I have to admit. By the time I left the shop, I was so flustered and overcome by lustful desires that I gave the guy my phone number and, in response to his request, said I’d be looking forward to going out with him for coffee (or possibly something more private) after the holidays.
That night I told Master about what I had done and let’s just say that he wasn’t very happy. At first I was a bit crushed, because I thought Master would have encouraged me to have some fun with the guy. But Master made it clear to me that HE was my Owner, and it was NOT appropriate for me as a slave to give out my phone number to a man and to lead him on without my Owner’s specific approval. My time and my life aren’t my own anymore. They belong to Master. And it hit me just how right he was, and how wrong I had been, and how I had let lust overcome my devotion to my Owner. Master wasn’t overly angry, but he just wanted to make sure I was put in my proper place and remembered my situation in his household. It was like a glass of water was splashed in my face, in that it woke me up and made me realize I had been slipping a bit in a few ways – possibly because we had not had contact with other people very much for weeks because Master had been feeling run down. Whatever the reason, after that all sunk in, my lust flowed out of my system like water down a drain, making me also realize just how little the guy at the shop and I actually have in common. I love to read about history and watch science-fiction movies and cook fancy meals and discuss philosophy and seek spiritual insights, all while being a dedicated slave. When I asked that guy what he does on his days off, he told me he cleans his house, watches American football and watches European car racing. Err … yeah. He wanted to fuck me, and I wanted him to. And that’s not enough, Master said. If I’m going to have an intimate relationship with somebody, he said, it’s going to be somebody that is worthy of my respect and has substantially more in common with me than that guy. *smiles warmly* Master again showed me just how wonderful he was by protecting me then. By the way, that guy called me up today and left a message saying he wanted to get together. Master told me I should call him back and let him know the truth – I’m a slave, and my Master doesn’t feel it’s appropriate for us to get together, and to leave it at that. And I will.
Yet, in the face of those mistakes, I realize that they stand out as exceptions, and both Master and I know that. I’m still working to find ways to manage my time more effectively, and I’m working every day to find ways to improve my talents as a slave. But overall, despite my relative newness to being one full time, Master continues to say I’m the best slave he’s ever had, and that truly feels me with a deep pride.
And just as I continue to be diligent in my dedication to Master, he has been repeatedly surprising me lately with gifts and expenditures, which he says he considers an aspect of what a very strong dedication to taking responsibility for me. As I have devoted my life to his needs and desires, he is making sure my own needs and desires are met in various appropriate ways.
One wonderful (and amazing) example is when he decided to take my former computer and get it all fixed up for me to give to my kids for schoolwork and other uses. I had a good (and quite fast and powerful) computer that was a few years old, but I had inadvertently let dust accumulate in it to the point where it caused a micro-spark one day that fried the computer’s motherboard. I wailed at my stupidity at the time, but it happened as I was moving in with Mistress (the woman who owned me before Master), and she let me borrow another computer to use. The computer sat unusable among my possessions for months until Master recently asked me about it and decided that he didn’t want a perfectly good computer that could be fixed to remain broken. Master wound up spending hundreds of dollars and hours of labor getting it repaired and replacing the DVD drive, all without even a request from me, but simply because he decided it was the right thing to do. I marvel at Master’s generosity and huge heart at doing things like that, and such things make me love him all the more.
And then there are the little but equally wonderful things. Like when I casually mentioned the other day that I had seen something in the basement that sparked my curiosity. It was a vibrator commonly known as a “rabbit.” (Here’s a similar one I saw a picture of on the Internet). Master’s response was he would get me one and let me try it out. *gulps* Soon I was lying naked on my bed, with it firmly pushed up my moist pussy, and the rabbit’s little “ears” nestled firmly against my clit. The vibrator he got for me has five different types of pulse settings, and I tried them out one at a time until … BOOM! One of the settings – which does a slow pulse, then a faster one, then a faster one, then a really intense one, then starts over with a slow one, over and over and over again, REALLY set me off with orgasm after orgasm! If somebody turned me into a mannequin then and there with that thing stuck in my vagina for the rest of my existence, I would have been a happy girl, I tell you that (Okay, maybe not perfectly happy, but it was the fantasy flowing through my head at the time. *giggles*) The vibrator also had a button causing it’s bulbous end (which was deep in my vaginal cavity) to swivel, and that was rather nice, too, I have to say. *bites her lip and blushes* I came down to see Master about a half hour later and express my great appreciation, but he seemed to already know what I thought of it because he said he has heard what sounded like “a wild animal caught in a bear trap” in my room. To be honest, I was actually trying to be keep my responses quiet because, had I actually let out what I was feeling at the time, my screams of orgasmic pleasure would have alerted the neighbors for at least the surrounding three or four blocks. *chuckles merrily*
Well, it’s getting late, and my bed is calling to me, so I’m going to head out for the night, with a hope that I don’t wake up feeling nervous at being alone. While Master is gone, I plan to keep myself busy with chores (he gave me a list of things to do in addition to my normal tasks to make sure I wasn’t bored), and to be around somebody I spent the afternoon and early evening with my former Mistress. She’s doing well, by the way, but it’s sadly clear that most of the spark has faded away between us, although we remain friends without a doubt. I noted to Master the other day that he had passed a little milestone, in that as of Sunday of this week he’s owned me longer than Mistress did, and Master said he feels that by now he totally owns me without a doubt. Between the two of them, I’ve been a slave without cessation for more than five months, and yet it seems like only yesterday that Mistress collared me, formally ending my life as a free woman. *sighs with a gentle smile* But anyway, tomorrow I’ll be with my kids in the afternoon, and from Friday until Saturday morning I’ll be staying with the Gorean Master/slave couple we had dinner with awhile back. That slave loves Guitar Hero, too (she’s the person who introduced me to it), so I have a feeling we’ll be merrily having a few guitar duels while I’m there. I’ve got my axe, so I’m ready to take her on! *giggles* That leaves Saturday night, but I’m sure I’ll find something to keep my mind off my aloneness … I hope.
Well, toodles for now. And, as always …
La kajira!!!
Showing posts with label slave. Show all posts
Showing posts with label slave. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
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!
Friday, October 23, 2009
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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Thursday, October 22, 2009
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!!!
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!!!
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
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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Saturday, October 10, 2009
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!
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!
Friday, October 9, 2009
Day 61 - On Celebrating Leif Ericsson Day with My Kids, Learning About Being a Slave (Thrall) in Viking Days, and Getting a Little Creepy in my Ex's Kitchen
(Yes, this is a little break from my usual logs, but I had so much fun I wanted to record it in detail! *bounces*)
Happy Leif Ericsson Day!!!
No, I’m not Swedish or, as far as I know, descended from Vikings. However, on the way to see my kids on yesterday, my ex called, and we decided to put off my visit a day so that I could celebrate use Leif Ericsson day as an excuse to teach the kids about history – particularly, the Vikings.
And we had a blast! Particularly, my daughter and I did, because my son was off most of the evening with his uncle, who was playing a concert (he’s a professional jazz musician). After spending the morning (and last night) researching Vikings, I went over with a bag of stuff.
Having been told to expect a fun day, my daughter dressed up in a medieval dress, which we figured was accurate because Vikings were traders and could have gotten it somewhere. I, on the other hand, do have a Viking-style tunic that I sewed by hand years ago when I was involved in The Society for Creative Anachronism, along with a cape and a bag of hand-painted wooden rune discs, which I used for divination. And … all of that is in storage somewhere, so I found the best I could find in my closet (being a rustic-looking loose shirt, a thick skirt and sandals), and all was fine anyway. *chuckles*
I taught my daughter exciting stuff about Vikings, and their way of life, and the fact they were explorers, and how they were largely farmers or fishermen, and … I left out the fact that the major trade good of Vikings was slaves (my ex and I mutually agreed my daughter was too young to learn about such things). I researched that part pretty well last night, just out of curiosity, and it’s a fascinating topic … especially because I’m a slave, naturally. The way Vikings treated slaves was, in many ways, like the way Goreans treat slaves in the novels except … Vikings were (relatively) nicer, and they weren’t misogynistic. Men, women and children were all taken as slaves in the raids. And having a female slave serve as a bed partner wasn’t very common, by the way. Slaves (which were called “thralls”) pretty much did the backbreaking jobs the free people didn’t want to do. Slaves were, indeed, treated like livestock, in that they could be killed by anybody for any reason, and if somebody was found to have wrongfully killed a slave, the only penalty would be they would have to pay the slave’s owner the fair market price that the slave was worth. Slaves could also own some things, and although it wasn’t much, it theoretically allowed them to save up to buy their own freedom, which was a huge affair. Oh, and the mark of being a slave was the same thing as in Gor – they were forced to wear collars. Like I said, an interesting topic.
After teaching her about Leif Ericsson and his adventures, I taught her about how Viking girls were expected to not only learn womanly skills (such as making clothing and cooking), but also needed to know a lot of the manly skills (such as managing the household farm and mending furniture) because they needed to keep things going when the men were off raiding and pillaging. Oh, and I also taught her about Leif’s half-sister Freydis, who was known as a bit off a warrior, and I told my daughter how Viking girls, if they were strong and wanted to do it, could become warriors and fight alongside the men. Can you tell I’m encouraging my daughter to grow up to be a “strong, brave and smart girl”? (That’s our little catchphrase, by the way. *grins*)
After curling up on the couch together while I read her several of the myths about Norse Goddesses (concentrating on Freya, my favorite of them all), we got to the best part … the food! Sardines and herring and flatbread and apples and nuts and lots of cheese! Yum! My daughter loves fish of all types, and so she gobbled up the sardines and herring like nobody’s business! She says it’s her cat nature – she believes she’s a cat in a human body – and I’m not somebody to doubt her.
Next I got out the board and pieces for a Viking game to teach her, but my son came home about then and interrupted what was happening, and that was okay because I think my daughter had about absorbed all she could.
Turning to my son, I taught him everything I had taught his sister, but with him we discussed slaves, because he had already heard about that a bit in school. It’s weird to think that, in Viking life, my son would be old enough to be considered an adult, and to go out raiding and fighting in huge warships. *bites her lip*
Afterward, my son carved a really spooky pumpkin, and all of us transformed the kitchen into a “haunted house,” so that when my ex walked downstairs, all the lights suddenly went out, and my daughter (in a black cat costume) rubbed against my ex’s legs and meowed loudly and creepily, and then I started cackling menacingly and my son made his pumpkin float eerily all around the room. It was a hit! *giggles*
The Viking celebration isn’t over yet, for Sunday I’ll be returning, and we’ll all make Viking helmets and shields and battle axes, and then we’ll go out exploring new worlds, looking for adventure and even elves! (which is what, I’ve heard, Leif thought Indians were when he first met them).
Wish us luck!!!
*bounces happily*
Happy Leif Ericsson Day!!!
No, I’m not Swedish or, as far as I know, descended from Vikings. However, on the way to see my kids on yesterday, my ex called, and we decided to put off my visit a day so that I could celebrate use Leif Ericsson day as an excuse to teach the kids about history – particularly, the Vikings.
And we had a blast! Particularly, my daughter and I did, because my son was off most of the evening with his uncle, who was playing a concert (he’s a professional jazz musician). After spending the morning (and last night) researching Vikings, I went over with a bag of stuff.
Having been told to expect a fun day, my daughter dressed up in a medieval dress, which we figured was accurate because Vikings were traders and could have gotten it somewhere. I, on the other hand, do have a Viking-style tunic that I sewed by hand years ago when I was involved in The Society for Creative Anachronism, along with a cape and a bag of hand-painted wooden rune discs, which I used for divination. And … all of that is in storage somewhere, so I found the best I could find in my closet (being a rustic-looking loose shirt, a thick skirt and sandals), and all was fine anyway. *chuckles*
I taught my daughter exciting stuff about Vikings, and their way of life, and the fact they were explorers, and how they were largely farmers or fishermen, and … I left out the fact that the major trade good of Vikings was slaves (my ex and I mutually agreed my daughter was too young to learn about such things). I researched that part pretty well last night, just out of curiosity, and it’s a fascinating topic … especially because I’m a slave, naturally. The way Vikings treated slaves was, in many ways, like the way Goreans treat slaves in the novels except … Vikings were (relatively) nicer, and they weren’t misogynistic. Men, women and children were all taken as slaves in the raids. And having a female slave serve as a bed partner wasn’t very common, by the way. Slaves (which were called “thralls”) pretty much did the backbreaking jobs the free people didn’t want to do. Slaves were, indeed, treated like livestock, in that they could be killed by anybody for any reason, and if somebody was found to have wrongfully killed a slave, the only penalty would be they would have to pay the slave’s owner the fair market price that the slave was worth. Slaves could also own some things, and although it wasn’t much, it theoretically allowed them to save up to buy their own freedom, which was a huge affair. Oh, and the mark of being a slave was the same thing as in Gor – they were forced to wear collars. Like I said, an interesting topic.
After teaching her about Leif Ericsson and his adventures, I taught her about how Viking girls were expected to not only learn womanly skills (such as making clothing and cooking), but also needed to know a lot of the manly skills (such as managing the household farm and mending furniture) because they needed to keep things going when the men were off raiding and pillaging. Oh, and I also taught her about Leif’s half-sister Freydis, who was known as a bit off a warrior, and I told my daughter how Viking girls, if they were strong and wanted to do it, could become warriors and fight alongside the men. Can you tell I’m encouraging my daughter to grow up to be a “strong, brave and smart girl”? (That’s our little catchphrase, by the way. *grins*)
After curling up on the couch together while I read her several of the myths about Norse Goddesses (concentrating on Freya, my favorite of them all), we got to the best part … the food! Sardines and herring and flatbread and apples and nuts and lots of cheese! Yum! My daughter loves fish of all types, and so she gobbled up the sardines and herring like nobody’s business! She says it’s her cat nature – she believes she’s a cat in a human body – and I’m not somebody to doubt her.
Next I got out the board and pieces for a Viking game to teach her, but my son came home about then and interrupted what was happening, and that was okay because I think my daughter had about absorbed all she could.
Turning to my son, I taught him everything I had taught his sister, but with him we discussed slaves, because he had already heard about that a bit in school. It’s weird to think that, in Viking life, my son would be old enough to be considered an adult, and to go out raiding and fighting in huge warships. *bites her lip*
Afterward, my son carved a really spooky pumpkin, and all of us transformed the kitchen into a “haunted house,” so that when my ex walked downstairs, all the lights suddenly went out, and my daughter (in a black cat costume) rubbed against my ex’s legs and meowed loudly and creepily, and then I started cackling menacingly and my son made his pumpkin float eerily all around the room. It was a hit! *giggles*
The Viking celebration isn’t over yet, for Sunday I’ll be returning, and we’ll all make Viking helmets and shields and battle axes, and then we’ll go out exploring new worlds, looking for adventure and even elves! (which is what, I’ve heard, Leif thought Indians were when he first met them).
Wish us luck!!!
*bounces happily*
Thursday, October 8, 2009
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!!!
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!!!
Monday, October 5, 2009
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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