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Open to exploring my sadistic side with new play partners. I enjoy rope, rough body play, pressure points, straight razors and the occasional nasal fucking. Ideally, I am seeking a masculine submissive male to be trained for butler, chauffeur, and bodyguard services. Some of the traits necessary are a willingness to serve, a strong sense of esteem for oneself, a desire to live a healthy lifestyle, and a craving for knowledge. Approximately 2 training sessions per week of 2 - 3 hours each would be required. All orientations welcome as sex is not a primary objective of this relationship. Know this, I am a sports fanatic - love my Longhorns, Spurs and Dallas Cowboys. You are not required to be a fan, it just might help though. ~ Fairer than She

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12/18/2010 8:55:11 AM

Currently, there is a conversation taking place about obedience and submission.  There was one statement in particular which raised my pique.  Please know that the following is framed from my own perspective.

 

*“true submission is when you really, really do not want to do something, but you do it anyway.”*

 

I disagree.  The correct statement would read:

 

"Obedience begins the first time you really do not want to do something, but you do it anyway."

 

What is the difference? 

 

Submission is a psychological state of being wherein one puts aside their own will in favor of that of another. 

 

Obedience is an active state wherein one acts in accordance to another person’s direction. 

 

One is a state of mind, the other is action oriented. 

 

These two work hand in hand and yet are not interchangeable notions.  If we look at submission as an alignment to his will, then obedience is part of the action plan toward that goal. 

 

Alignment to his will is a fundamental piece of submission.  Would it be possible for someone to submit wholly to another person without an implicit agreement and willingness to walk the path set before them by their Master?  Can it be called submission if at the back of your mind, you question every decision he makes? 

Even if you obey every command, if you are questioning it either verbally or via your own interior dialogue, is that submission?  No - it is obedience, just that, and nothing more. 

 

In some ways, it is easier to simply obey.  Submission is a process, ongoing, penetrative, with honest self-reflection.  I am fortunate to be with someone who inspires the desire to submit as if it were a flame.  I burn to be in his presence.  One stroke from his finger makes me melt, not just sexually, but the interior walls, the barricades to my psyche, all the defenses I have cultivated in the last forty-four years, they soften like butter and a sweet relaxation washes over me.  I am as open and vulnerable to him as is possible for me *at this time.*

 

I say *at this time* because we are evolving, ever growing, ever changing and tomorrow, my submission to his will may look different or the changes may be so subtle and gradual that without time-lapse photography may not be seen with the naked eye.

 

My obedience to him has evolved in accordance to my submission.  Obedience is the driving force for me.  To disobey would be anathema to me.  I obey because primarily, it would hurt me to do otherwise.  Secondarily, it would hurt to witness his reaction to open disobedience.  These are two different things, two different motivators, both ‘moving away’ motivators.  I also have moving towards motivators, the satisfaction of a job well done, the approval and the “good girl”.  Sometimes people have both kinds of motivators.  Internal and external validations are common needs.  While hearing that he is pleased is like honey on my tongue, I do not need to hear it for each individual task in order to be fulfilled. 

 

Back to the statement:  "Obedience begins the first time you really do not want to do something, but you do it anyway."

 

In the beginning of a relationship, service often develops along the lines of doing for another the things we enjoy doing.  When self-identified submissives/slaves are with someone new, we often suggest the things we know we do well as ways to serve.  “I love making tea” and so he says “make me some tea”.  It isn’t obedience – its service.  He says he would love a massage and we say we would love to give him a massage.  Then he says, “Clean out the kitty litter pan.”  And we hesitate, why? Because cleaning out the kitty litter pan isn’t sexy, we don’t look our best hunched over scooping poop, this isn’t fun!

 

But we do it anyway, some of us, push the internal dialogue aside, and make the choice to obey.  And there it is – the beginning of obedience – doing something you really do not want to do.  Each new task requires that choice.  Eventually, with alignment of will, through the process of submission, one may reach the point where there is no negative internal dialogue, no questioning of directions, and only rewards – a quiet mind, a gentle spirit, the joy of being useful – and it is no longer a task by task choice, but an inherent *obedience to his will*.  So in step with his thoughts and desires that one’s own internal voices no longer struggle, instead they become unquestioning and deliberate in their own willingness to serve. 

 

This journey we, SJ and I, have embarked upon together, is a journey with no predetermined destination, no space and time where we may reflect and say “We’re here!”  We continue, he as a Master, and I as his slave, and each is responsible for themselves - actions, thoughts, words, intent.  I continue to both through my actions and my state of mind serve him completely, unquestioning and without judgment.  That is my goal, to serve him with every fiber of my being.  Obedience and submission congruent with his will.  

 


6/9/2010 9:27:25 PM
I need to lose weight.  I need to quit eating.  I need to quit feeling like I have to keep eating or I won't get to eat later.  There is a bizarre disconnect that starts each day with good intentions and ends irrationally with pain and emotional drowning suppressed only by the desperate stuffing of food down my throat as if the bile which rises from my aching stomach, bloated and gassy, will quell the ache inside.  Medicating with food, sugar, salt, fat, dairy, anything, anything, just shove it in like a hog at a trough, it doesn't matter.  And I hate myself when I get like this when I feel this way when the demons from my childhood haunt me so expertly - they know me better than anyone. 

Pain and fear and fear and pain and he's gone, lets eat, quickly before he comes back and grabbing and stuffing and gorging because this is the only chance I'll have to eat before he gets back and I know when he's back I won't be able to eat not wihtout him interfering not with out him touching my food commenting on what I eat knocking my plate to the floor telling me he didn't do anything making me cower and run and hide and you can't cry because he didn't do anything and it will just make him mad and don't make him mad because it will just get worse.  Just wait.  Wait for him to leave, just wait, once he's gone then we can eat.  He won't be here forever.  Just wait.  Then he leaves and we gorge and gorge and gorge until we're sick and nothing tastes good and there is no pleasure and there is only pain, pain and suffering and tears and anger.  I remember when he left for the army I cried every night for six months, not because I missed him but because it took me six months to break the habit of crying every night living with him.  I cried because I was programmed to cry, cried because it was time to cry, cried because I had no choice. 

I'm tired of crying and I'm tired of eating and I'm tired of not valuing myself enough to quit either of these habits. 

Maybe that's why I'm here in these worlds in this relationship where my tears are hoarded and savored.  I remember the first time I heard SJ say "I just like to watch her cry."  He was giving me to a Dom friend who was visiting from San Francisco.  I had never met this woman before, it was my birthday party and SJ lent me to her for a scene.  She asked what we liked, asked him what he liked and he said "I just like to watch her cry."  Huge relief.  Knowing that my tears were accepted and valued and loved and savored and that he actually enjoyed them.  He likes to watch me cry.  For the first time in my life, my tears weren't a reason to hide my face.  Now I turn my face to him as the tears stream down my cheeks spilling onto my breasts, running down me like a cleansing rain, today, my tears are beautiful and I can see the desire in his eyes and how he drinks them in.  He consumes me through my tears. 

8/5/2008 8:04:19 PM
SJ is an amazing hypnotist. This weekend, he sent me on an amazing journey, one of sea monsters and various multi tentacled things.

I dreamed of giant squids and octupi and being ravaged by them. In various seas, I would emerge from the water onto the shore, appearing like Ursula Andres in Dr. No, bikini clad and knife wielding only to be pulled under by some beast.

In each of these vignettes, I could breath underwater until arriving at some clam shell encrusted lair where the slimy tentacles would invade my orifices. My throat clogged, my pussy filled, my ass invaded - pain searing through me as I writhed in agony. The clam shells dug into my skin as I squirmed, fighting for breath, trying to rid myself of the invading tentacles. One wrapped around my throat, holding me down, and one on each of my appendages. Three rough invaders, pounding in and out of me, no rhythm to their motions, just slick and slimy suckers stabbing my insides.

And then, as I thought I would die, that the pain could not be worse, surely I would suffocate, bile rising in my throat, the tentacle in my mouth would withdraw and like a bilge pump, the sea water and mucous would spew over my breasts. Catching one quick inhalation before being impaled once again orally.

Meanwhile the other two invaders were at work on my nether regions and one sucker had adhered to my swollen clit. My writhing had changed in its purpose but not in its action. I bucked wildly as the triple threat brought about orgasm after orgasm. Sea water streamed from my pussy instead of my own juices. I was bathing in a sea of saline produced by my body. It was as if I had become a thing of the sea. My body had morphed into this previously unknown amphibious creature, destined to be raped over and over again, held and imprisoned in a clam shell cage.

7/12/2008 5:29:01 PM
We were watching Wimbledon - SJ is a TV sports fan as well - he was sitting on the couch and I was laying on it, our usual positions.  He began torturing my feet, nothing major, just teasing and tickling and then some pinches which led to firm pressure along my Achilles tendon drawing out a long moan from my throat.

He reversed my position so that my head was in his lap as we continued to watch the incredible final between Federer and Nadal.  His tweaks, slaps and pinches of my breasts, neck and sides took me deeper and deeper wanting him more and more.  He asked if I was hungry - "No" I replied, " horny."  He laughed under his breath.

SJ slapped my face repeatedly until I was breathless.  "Get the rope." he said.  I was nearly incoherent from the slaps and looked into his face for confirmation.  "Go on, get the rope." he said emphatically.

I scampered in that sweet tiptoe slave run to grab the silken bag laden with bundles of hemp and jute.  Most will prefer the hemp, it is soft and pliable.  I prefer the jute, it holds me in place and leaves the most beautiful ligature marks.

I returned and heeded the call to get naked, sat on the couch and bounced, giggling all the while.  Most wouldn't giggle at the thought of being tied by one so sadistic, most would shake.  I shake too, with anticipation, it is all I can do to contain myself - I so ache for him.  Ache and longing deep inside me, feelings which overwhelm me. 

He began tying my right wrist behind my back - it was a simple, one rope tie, a hojo jitsu tie, designed to immobilize me quickly and it did.  He lay me on the couch, my feet thrown over the back of the sofa and my head hanging off the seat, my weight resting on his excellent tie.

I heard him unzip his pants and felt his hard cock against my lips, lips that were open and ready, waiting, hungry for him.  I love his cock.  There is nothing which drives me more insane with lust than when he fucks my throat. 

And he did.  He fucked my throat, driving deep inside me, down my throat over and over again and then waiting until I retched it out.  My nose was filled with snot and tears streamed back into my hair.  I couldn't breath.  I couldn't breath and he continued this madness.  He would wait for me to retch and pull out for 3, maybe 4 seconds, time enough for me to breath and then plunge back into my throat.

It got to where I no longer closed my lips around him, just opened myself as much as possible to his charges.  All the while, he played with and tortured my pussy, rubbing my clit, pinching and slapping me, driving my own hips high in the air, then slapping them down again.

Then it happened.  One retch was fully loaded and I vomited him out of my throat.  It poured like hot acidic lava into my nose, across my eyes - sealing them shut, and soaked into my hair.  I heard it dripping onto the floor as I tried to catch my breath.  Then I heard the two sweetest words in the human language, "Good girl."

I could not see him, but I heard his footsteps padding into the kitchen, heard the peal of the paper towel, sensed him walking back and felt his gentle caresses as he mopped my face briskly. 

Then his cock, that glorious instrument, was working back in my throat, now more open to him than ever.  His hands still busy about my own seat of pleasure and then I came.  I came with the knowledge that I had somehow pleased the one I serve by vomiting and the ache and longing were fulfilled in that moment.

But before the first waves could subside and the second could begin, he had flipped me onto my knees and pushed my head into the sofa.  His cock plunged into my still quivering cunt rocking my face deeper into the cushion.  When he wanted me to breath, he pulled me up by the chest harness.  When he didn't want me to breath, he pushed me further down.  When he wanted to fuck me fast, he held me still, when he wanted to fuck me hard, he pulled me back against him.  When he wanted to tease me unmercifully, he would pull out and wait for me to try to back up onto him and then plunge with all his weight deep inside me, causing me to cry out in the combination of deep fulfillment and excruciating pain.

When he was done with me, he was simply done.  I tried to clean his cock, but that went on for a short few moments before he said, "That's enough of that."  His words final.  Then he told me to go shower.

I was put in my place and felt mastered like I had not felt in a long time.  It was an amazing experience for me. 

Later that day, we were at a MAsT meeting, and I knelt at his feet in the grass.  Fire ants bit my legs, hands and feet and I couldn't feel it beyond recognizing that something was there.  My body was still in the living room.  I knelt beside him and kissed his shoes, leaned against his knee, felt his hand in my hair and listened to him describe our relationship.  It was beautiful.

6/17/2008 2:47:51 PM
I can usually tell if he is going to fuck me just by the way he lays down in the bed.  He started off tickling me and the tickling led to spanking until I was just moaning and squirming and panting with wanton lust for him.  God I wanted him so unbelievably badly!  He grabbed his belt and began to beat my ass, then he went back to spanking, then he pulled out this little needle nose massager and put it just below my clit so I had to squirm to reach it.  He dropped it and grabbed the belt again.  He pulled my ass cheeks apart and brought the belt down hard between them.  Once, twice, thrice - pain and lust intermingled.  By this time, I was incoherent and in a frenzy - I wanted him so badly.  Then it hit!

Not an orgasm - no - something awful!  A wave of absolute shame came over me and I started balling.The shame was for wanting him so much - it was born of the fear that he would not consummate this lust that was rising in me, a lust that was becoming overwhelming, a lust so powerful I was speechless.  I could moan and shriek and cry and I cried and I cried.

I felt him lift off the bed.  I heard him walk to the dresser, heard the package open, knew the sounds which accompanied the the placement of the condom on his huge cock.  Normally it is one of my greatest pleasures to watch him do this.  To see his tremendous cock and know where it is going.  Even just sneaking a peak at it is a decadent delight!  But last night, all I could do was cry.  I was consumed by the shame of it all.  I knew that no matter how long it lasted it would never be enough to slake this thirst I have for him.  No matter how much - how often - how long - it will never be enough!  God, how can I stand this aching inside when all I want is him and all I can think of is him, when the desire is upon me!

SJ pulled me to the edge of the bed.  I felt the head of his cock nudge against my cunt and I moaned and tried to push back on it.  He held me in place, spread my legs wider and pushed my face into the tangle of sheets.  Oh God, he began to fuck me.  He fucked me hard.  He fucked me fast.  He slowed down and pulled out almost to the end, my cunt opening and closing in desperation, trying to hold him inside me and then he thrust back in hard enough to send me howling like a cat in heat, grunting into the covers.  On and on it went, just when I thought he would end it, he would drive hard into me and send me howling once again.  It was exquisite and painful, beautiful and cathartic.  I never stopped crying.  When the orgasm finally came to me, it was long and drawn out, it was an endless succession of perfect waves to ride, not one much bigger than another, but each substantial and forceful.  As the waves began to subside, he released me.  I was still incoherent and couldn't beg him to continue.  I could not speak, tears still ran down my cheeks and I knew it was true.  My lust and desire for him will never end, it barely ebbs, it is as ever present as my love for sports, my love for him, my need for air.

6/12/2008 10:22:33 PM
I know I am in the midst of one of those 'make everyone around you puke cuz your so giddy in love and can't stop smiling' moods right now, so if this type of expression of emotion is a hard limit for you, then I suggest you stop reading now.

~~~Remember you were warned...

*sighs*  Okay, all throughout the day, I have been thinking about SJ.  Wondering what he was doing at that moment kind of thing.  Imagining him at work, driving, having lunch, all those kinds of things.  With a kind of dissociated state happening, so that I was still making dinner, playing with my um, taking care of what needed care, all while in this lovely pictorial imagining.

It was a lovely way to accompany him on what was a busy day.

Then this evening, the phone rang at its usual time and he asked what I was doing.  I told him and he said "Well open your front door." 

I absolutely love his pop in visits!  They are few and far between and I adore them.

I fetched him a beer and gave him a foot massage and nestled close to him and was just so unbelievably happy.  I still am!

I love my life, I love SJ, I love who I am and how much I have grown this last year.



6/6/2008 12:43:33 PM
A continuation of the report on the Hypnosis presentation...

One of the things I learned last night was that SJ had put me in a number of trances of which I was unaware.  I chronicled two dreams I had written about while in trance in my previous entry.

Another dream occurred when I was at my house.  For this one, my instruction was to write down some key words which defined the dream for me. 

I wrote on a sheet of paper the following:

face fucking, smothered, flying, and spanking

In the dream:

I am suspended by a chest harness and ankle harness to an A-frame structure, like an old fashioned swing set, on my back so that my head hangs free.  

A line of men waits in turn to fuck my mouth, over and over again, one after the other, these unknown men move to force their cocks between my lips and down my throat.  I am immobilized and can do nothing but acquiesce to their wishes.  A dozen or so men use me in this fashion.  I am sore, certain that my jaw will unhinge and yet my pussy aches with longing for a cock.  My throat is dry and scratched and my pussy is wet and hungry for an intruder.  The pain which fuels my lust starts in my ragged throat and blossoms into pounding desire in my pussy.

I am smothered by balls, unable to breathe through my mouth or nose, covered with men.  My eyes see only ass and balls and fleetingly the cock which leaves my mouth before glimpsing the next assailant.  There is no cum to sooth the ache, I have only the bile which rises over and again to keep me moist.

and yet, I am free in my bondage, the harnesses allow me to fly so that each man thrusting causes me to swing back and forth and letting that energy take me over, I enjoy the thrusts as I would the to and fro on a swing.  It is not me they fuck, only this swing.  Free to fly through the air.

When all are done and have had their way with me, I am released and the one I serve spanks me.  A reward for a job well done.  Relief comes through his hand to my ass and resounds in my pussy, finally bringing me the release I need as I cum again and again from his hands. "

I think I did a better job recounting this today.  Yesterday, at the meeting, SJ had me open my purse and pull out a slip of paper.  I didn't recall seeing the paper before, didn't recall writing the words and he read the four words to the class and then had me tell them the dream.  It is always exciting to find these little presents he leaves me.  I am craving to be face fucked - I know that.  It is my greatest desire to be completely and totally face fucked by him.

Another little gift...

At one point, SJ handed me a raspberry and said, "Here have a raspberry."  It was very sweet and juicy and thoroughly enjoyable. 

Later on he handed me another and said, "Here, have another raspberry."  After I took a bite, he said, "Would it surprise you to know that you are eating a tomato?"

I looked down at the tomato in my hand, the tomato which tasted like a raspberry, I'm sure I blushed furiously.  I could feel that it was a tomato in my mouth, I could see that it was a tomato in my hand, but it was still a raspberry that I tasted. 

He told how he had implanted the reaction a few night previous using a kinesthetic pattern.  It was a lovely thing to eat a tomato which tasted of raspberries for SJ.  I realized today that I finished eating the tomato even though I don't particularly care for tomatoes.  He didn't tell me not to eat it.  It's the only explanation I can come up with...someone asked him as he explained the process, if this was an attempt to get me to eat more vegetables. He said it was an example of hypnotic  phenomena, hallucination, which in this case was negative; meaning I perceived something which was not there.

It was a powerful night.  We recounted some of the trances he has used with me in the past and spoke about the prime directive he instilled in our first hypnosis session together.  "Suffer for me" was supposed to be only for that session, instead, my subconscious interpreted it as a guide line for all future play together.  It means that I stay present with him and don't slip into sub space during scenes.

I couldn't go to sleep last night, just couldn't shake that edginess, and had to listen to my hypnosis tape twice in order to fall asleep.  Once I did fall asleep, I slept and do not recall my dreams...yet.

6/5/2008 10:10:27 PM
Tonight, SJ presented to the local submissives support group, AsC, on the topic of erotic hypnosis. It was a wonderful meeting with great audience participation including two group trances.

What was interesting for me is that SJ had done at least three if not more trances with me during the last week of which I was unaware until tonight.

One in particular had me experiencing erotic dreams and then getting up in the morning, still in trance, and writing about the dreams. I had no recollection of these events, but SJ had me read my writings, obviously done in my hand and told the group about the post hypnotic suggestion which he placed.

Here is the first dream: "I awoke to the sun streaming across my face from the gap in the curtains. Realizing I was tied to a bed, an unfamiliar bed, spread eagle. Fear grabbed me, how did I get here? How would I get out? I tested the bonds, pulled at them, only making them tighter. I hurt. I hurt where the ropes which held me, hurt from them being pulled so taut, hurt from the sun in my eyes.

A man walked into the room. I did not know him. "Help me, please!" I begged. The smile told me everything I needed to know. I would get no help from this man. The strike brand in his hand terrified me. I screamed as he sat on the bed next to me and placed it to my hip. I faint."

This is the second one: "SJ's hand is in my hair, pulling me to the edge of the bed. I struggle to move how he wants me to move, knowing only that it hurts. My wrists are bound behind me and my ankles lashed together. I get up on my knees and heave myself towards him, collapsing, with my head at the edge. His hands grab me and turn me onto my back. Hands pull me over the edge, cinching my arms down painfully and my head falls. Hard cock meets my lips, forcing its way down my throat. Plunging in and out of my face, his thrusts separating my jaws as the cock drives further and further down my throat. Holds there. My breath caught, tears and snot raining down me and caught there, bile rising in my throat and I have to breathe. I expel him and spit up a bucket of mucous. He fills my mouth again and again and again, bruising my throat and holds, his hands covering my mouth, as he takes my breath away. His hands smear the mixture of tears and snot all over my face and hair, all over me, down onto my body so I feel I'm swimming in it. I have trouble controlling myself. Each breath feels like my last and his cock pumps into me, searing pain, over and over again and when I think I can't take it, he cums."

Now I am having trouble recalling this dream right now. It will probably take a few days for me to reconstruct the trances and find the synaptic pathways to all that transpired due to them. I am sure that SJ will help me recover what I need to recover. One thing I find interesting is that this last one was written with little punctuation, more as one continuous sentence.  When I typed it tonight, I wanted to give some clarity to the writing and so I added 95% of the punctuation.  I hope it makes sense to everyone who takes the time to read it.

It was a powerfully erotic night even though most of it was recalling rather than experiencing anything new.

There were a couple more surprises, and I will write about those another time.

5/29/2008 7:06:18 AM
Day 3 - Saturday was filled with activity.  We seemed insanely busy with classes and the vendor area.

We met up with MrDiscipline from CM and his beautiful slave and had a wonderful dinner.  It was great to meet a man whom I have admired for so very long.  His concept of M/s translates perfectly to how he lives his life and we both enjoyed getting to share our perspectives on service and how that extends into the public parts of our relationships.

Later on, in the dungeon, we had our first 'alone' time where he could sit and I could kneel at his feet and we could simply watch what was happening around us.  I realized in that moment that being at his feet was the happiest I had been all day in a day full of happiness.  I cried.  Just tears no sobs.  Tears of joy and he had me lay down so he could use me as a foot rest.  I sighed. 

When we retired to our room, I stepped into the bathroom to wash face and brush teeth.  I came out as SJ was laying a towel on the bed.  He had me undress and then tied my right wrist under me to my left ankle.  I was kneeling on the bed.  The left ankle was tied to the right ankle and that attached to my left wrist which was bent over the shoulder and behind my back.  As he moved me on the bed in one direction, it would pull me from the other, keeping me constantly off balance. 

Spanking and floggings and various tortures soon followed.  Until I was on the verge of cumming.  He stopped and I begged him to continue.  He told me what to say, how to beg him and I did.  "This unworthy beast fucking slut begs you to continue."

That's when he fucked me with the billy club.  Pain and anguish, fear of what might be inside me, raw sexual lust commingled to create a massive explosive orgasm.  I shook and shook as he beat me with the night stick before sending it once again deep inside me. 

Later as we lay next to one another, drifting to sleep, he felt me tremble and asked how I was - 'scared' I replied.  He held me tight as I fell asleep. 

5/28/2008 8:42:49 PM
Day 2 - SJ decided i should attend a stetching class to start my portion of the conference. One thing I learned and have already put to use is to tie a cuff on myself and use it as a resistance tool to work on my right shoulder. I have dislocated it twice in the past and so it has less mobility than the left. The stretches using the rope have really helped quite a bit already and since greater flexibility is part of my transformation process, i am thrilled to find anything which aids in that.

The second class we took together and this was taught by Lee Harrington, an amazing presenter and person. This class was on bondage for sex and Lee showed a variety of ways to tie so that the genitalia is left exposed and open for use. SJ tied a really cool hip harness on me that was both lovely and effective.

We split up again for the fourth class and I was sent to learn how to breathe. Particularly, I found the deep breathing while seated on the floor to be enlightening. She told us to breathe deeply until the anus opened up to kiss the floor. It takes a pretty deep breath to affect the pelvic floor and it is highly stimulating.

So much so that the gorgeous young woman next to me began to masturbate. We were seated on towels in front of our chairs and she turned away from the room and put her feet up on her chair. She lay back and resumed her deep breathing as her right hand slipped under her skirt. The pheremone levels in the room were charged.

On the other side of me, I saw a beautiful couple, Master and slave whom I had met earlier in the day. He had her on her back with her legs resting over his, spread wide as he fucked her with his fingers through her panties.

Moans and deep breathing surrounded me as I continued my own breath work. Everywhere I looked, bodies undulated in time to the rhythm of our collective breath. The instructor was half dressed and stradling her boy during part of the exercise. It was a lustfilled, synchronized air orgy.

That night, at the party, SJ tied me with the new jute rope we had made in the weeks prior to ShibariCon. I love jute rope. It holds really well, is not soft or giving, but has lots of tooth. I love the way it stays in place and the degree of ligature marks it leaves behind.

SJ likes to see me cry and sometimes it takes almost no effort. That night it took me a while to let go and I think a lot of that was I really enjoyed the new rope and how strict it felt. However, there is no sadist like SJ and once he started poking between my toes with toothpicks, the tears flowed quickly.



5/27/2008 10:03:40 PM
We were heading to ShibariCon, finally, after months of anticipation.  At the airport, things moved smoothly and we were soon walking through security.  SJ took off his shoes and I picked them up and stowed them in the gray cubby tray and sent them down the conveyor belt. 

When I retrieved them after their forgettable journey, I asked SJ if I might be allowed to assist him in putting them back on and he said yes.  I knelt in the middle of the walkway and held open his shoe as he slid his foot into place.  I kissed his knee before I rose.  It was a wonderful way to find the right head space, the proper attitude, the balance which we both sought. 

Yes, being allowed to know my place - physically in the act of kneeling, emotionally in the gratitude of service which came through as a kiss, dynamically as a compliment to his dominance over me - it was a pivitol moment and set the tone for a wonderful weekend where I felt free to serve him without restraint.  He gave me permission to serve him completely in a very public setting and I am so grateful for it.

Once we arrived at the hotel, got to our room, and all the luggage was unpacked, SJ decided we should nap for a short while.

When he awoke, I was already in mid giggle thinking about the weekend to come.  My continuous state of horniness was ramped up from SJ's affectionate attentions on the plane and subsequent shuttle bus ride, so much so that I could not control the wild imaginings nor the giggles produced. 

SJ rolled me over on my back and kissed me hard and deep, crushing me into the soft duvet.  I was cocooned by it as his body sealed me to the mattress and his lips took my breath away. 

In one quick motion, he slipped from the bed and dragged me to the edge until my head hung over the side.  His thick cock slid between my panting lips and drove down my throat.  He rammed into me two, three, four times before holding there, suffocating me, choking me, bringing up the mucous bile to lubricate his cock. 

He wrenched the obstruction from my throat and flipped me onto my knees.  Tears rained down my cheeks as I steadied myself, waiting for that sweet indescribable moment when he would fill me. 

Heaven...SJ pounded into me, slapping my ass, burying my face in the duvet, smearing my mascara across my cheeks and into the smooth cotton cover of the bed.  It hurt so good. 

Suddenly, he stopped and flipped me once again to my back.  "Finish yourself for me."  My hands found my swollen pussy and began to caress my clit as tears flowed freely, sobs escaping through the moans of orgasm.  Embarrassed and shamed to do this and yet full of desire to perform for him.  I heard the words, those evocative words which make every trial a triumph..."Good girl."  Hiccuping thank yous as he once again turned my rump to him and made entry to my pussy.

I came again soon after in a riot of cries which quieted loud neighbors or ejected them from our wing.  It was glorious to be used thusly by SJ, to be so thoroughly fucked before the event even started.

I felt unbelievably desirable in that moment.  It was as perfect a fuck as I have ever known and I thanked my Jefe, SJ, the one I serve to the best of my ability and with great humility. 

5/13/2008 9:41:22 PM
Last week, SJ was reading to me over the phone from a book of poetry by Romi.  It was all very sensual and listening to him put me in a trance.  I was feasting on his voice, deeply under, when he began to read a poem wherin the author command the reader "Die." this is repeated three times.  My heart stopped beating and my chest sank and I came out of the trance long enough to have my concious mind tell my body that this wasn't a real command - that SJ did not want me to die.  I immediately went back under.  We do a lot of hypnosis work.

This weekend, he asked if I had perused the volume of poetry as of yet since it lay by the bed.  I had not.

Today I was at his place and began to read.  I came to the poem with the command and read it over and again.  The memory of the experience from the other night flooded me and I was compelled to write to him of my experience.

"I fear the depth of power you have over me and crave it like honey on my tongue.  My life in balance."

Is it a blessing to feel no remorse or worry when a man's voice might cause my heart to stop beating?  Is it insane to stay when someone holds this much power?  How can I know if I don't stay?  How can I live if I do?

3/19/2008 10:02:25 PM
So my birthday was a couple of weeks ago and SJ decided to have a few friends over for one of his sumptuous meals and celebrate my birthday.  It was generous of him to do this and I am very grateful to him for such a treat. 

The entire meal was delicious and the rib eyes were so amazing that when we stood in the kitchen as he sliced them and nibbled on tiny pieces together, we were unable to speak and our eyes fluttered in the hypnotic coma of unbelievable taste sensations and we made Homer Simpson noises and giggled with one another. 

Later that evening, SJ shared me with a Domme who was visiting from San Francisco.  I had never met her before that evening - she was incredibly sexy - petite and muscular frame, short red hair, beautiful sparkling eyes, and a magical voice. 

The two of them tied me up and did unspeakably wicked and mean things to me as tears streamed down my face.  My eyes were riveted on another Domme, a close friend of ours, one whom I have had a crush on for months.  She sat on the couch and observed my humiliation, casually drinking her wine while drinking in my pain.  I could smell her perfume, her lotions, her patent leather dress.  God, it was fantastic to be tortured in front of this Goddess, knowing she was watching it happen, realizing that she already knows all my weaknesses and when the glorious day finally comes that SJ does give me to her, she will rip me to pieces and I will love every minute of it.

To experience an amazing scene being shared by SJ and his friend was incredibly arousing - when he told me to ask her if she would like to tie me up, I became as shy as a school girl and hid my head behind his leg as I giggled - the entire night was one of amazing sensual pleasures, gourmet and erotic, and I consider myself truly to be the luckiest girl in the world to be with such an amazing man.

12/28/2007 11:28:58 PM
Lines of bruises stay
homage to my Master's rope
signs of rebellion

Erotic journey
with destination unknown
sailing on his voice

Passage quest journey
tumbling through the looking glass
sweet safety in knots

8/7/2007 12:55:03 AM
This weekend, we went to a 'nilla party, an association that He belongs to was having there summer fest, and He was making mixed drinks for everyone.  It was interesting to watch him in the midst of this group.

Whenever we are out at lifestyle events, there are usually people who seek him out for his opinion or specific advice.  It's something I had gotten used to seeing - a small group of people forming with him at the center. 

At this party, I saw the same thing occur.  I waited on him the way I normally would have, with the exception that I sat in a chair.  There was a moment when I realized that a group of 6 or 7 people had gathered around him, engaged in discussion, and I sat back and watched this go on for awhile.

It was interesting to me to watch this develop.  This party gave me some unique new insights into his personality, and confirmed others.

7/29/2007 5:35:22 PM
Last night, we were at a play party and he tied my arms down by my sides and had my right leg tied to a crossbar.  I was lying on my back.  He got between my legs and began to pull the hair off my pussy - the hair I had not bothered to shave.  I cried and wailed with the pain of this "punishment".  He spoke very quietly to me, "It would have been easier to shave." 

I didn't realize how painful it could be to have the hair ripped out and, had I but taken the 5 minutes yesterday to shave in the shower, could have avoided this pain.

While he did this, I wanted to beg him to stop. I didn't.  I wanted to sit up, spit in his face and say "FUCK YOU!"  I didn't.  I cried and the tears smeared my make up all over my face. 

When he was done with me, and it took me awhile to regain my composure, I asked if I could go wash my face.  He said, "No, leave it like it is."

After an hour or so, he told me to go wash up.  I walked into the bathroom and saw what he had seen.  My red rimmed eyes, the bold black smears, including one across the bridge of my nose, and remembered the prime directive - "Suffer for me".  I certainly had and it showed.  That was what he wanted to see - the evidence of my suffering.  I smiled into the mirror and was struck that now I didn't want to wash it, but I wasn't about to disobey so recently following the last punishment!

7/19/2007 7:07:53 PM
Something keeps going through my mind.  I was entranced the other night and thoroughly enjoyed it.  It is not the first time that I have been hypnotized. 

I do not remember most of what happened during the 15 minute interlude.  The one phrase that haunts me is, "Suffer for me."  I hear it in my head, like an echo, at odd times during the day.  In fact, I cannot read or hear the word without recalling his voice resounding in my mind.

It is beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

7/15/2007 10:40:52 PM
The female body is absolutely the most beautiful thing in this world.  Today I was fortunate to participate in a group learning about female ejaculation.  4 other women took part in this.  What I witnessed, once we each began to explore our sexuality looking for the female fountain, was incredible.   These beautiful women let me see inside their souls, sharing the most intimate moments, fearless and powerful women from all walks of life - Domme/switch/slaves - we joined together today to learn about ourselves and had the pleasure of helping our friends explore in this hands on demonstration - thanks to the incredible women who participated - fairer than she

7/12/2007 9:47:47 PM
I am bent over a table of some sort while hands massage and explore my body.  His breath is on my back as his words caress my ear, taking me deeper and deeper, "You are no longer a mother, daughter, professional.  You are what you long to be, the person you have to hide from the vanilla world, you are a slave. Let yourself go, you don't have to make any decisions, you are here to please your Master and you please your Master with obedience."

My whole body shudders violently in anticipation of the coming orgasm.  I beg him from behind the blindfold, "Please Master, please may i cum?"

"Hmmmmm, let's see, my, you are wet." His fingers tease with a gentle friction between my lips as whimpers escape and my body wriggles to meet his digits.

"5...4...3...2...what comes next?...1..."  His pauses drive me insane with desire anticipating the permission, my clit hard and ready, wanting to explode...
"Cum for me slave!"  Bright lights burst in my head and my legs curl behind me until my hips are off the table, my feet touch my ass and I howl throughout the powerful orgasm.

Hands rub my back and keep me on the table, caring and protecting me, "Such a good little slave, good girl, shh, relax, breathe" 

I know he said these things - they are imprinted on my brain - his voice I can recall from any synaptic pathway because they all lead to him, to Master.

As my body responds to his soothing caresses, returns to calm, I know that this journey has just started, this night has just begun.  He made two promises to me earlier this day - that what I expected to happen would not happen and that I would leave with a smile on my face...

If this was the start, I eagerly awaited the balance of the night's adventures....

7/7/2007 7:36:33 AM
I followed the instructions.  Parked on the street, walked up the steep drive and came around to the back of the house.  The note on the gate read:

Set down whatever you are carrying.  When you enter the gate, you will see a chair with a blindfold.  Sit in the chair and place the blindfold over your eyes.  Spread your legs and lift your skirt and await your Master.

The gate wouldn't open.  I couldn't open it.  Thoughts ran through my mind, "I have a college degree, I can open a gate.  Please dear Lord, let me open the gate. Calm down and you will open the gate."

So focused on opening the gate, some of the butterflies fled my stomach and allowed me to breathe again. 

The gate opens and I step down into the back yard.  The chair is there facing a sliding glass door.  The night air is heavy with the scent of jasmine.  The only light provided by the moon as wisp thin clouds dance across its face.

I sit in the chair and secure the blind fold, spreading my legs and reminding myself to breath.  There is an eternity of time that stretches into a minute before the sound of my breathing is replaced by the sliding glass door opening.

I can smell him, his sweet musk overwhelms my senses.  His voice is in my ear, his breath on my neck, his fingers between my widespread legs.  "Such a good little slave."  I whimper and relax into the chair curling my pussy towards his fingers.  I'm sopping wet  - so excited to finally be here, to be meeting him, to give myself to him fully and completely - this man who Mastered me on the phone.

He bids me stand and I do.   He bids me walk and I do, his hands on my arms guiding me through the door and into his dungeon.

I am stripped of everything.  I have no identity but that which he gives me in this moment.  Tremors of excitement course through me as his fingers strip away the last of the physical boundaries.  I whimper and moan constantly. ...

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cutelynda
 
 Age: 21
 New zealand, New Zealand