I do exactly as You say, and all You have to say is "Fuck you. Try harder."

I can sum this up very easily....

I know I mean nothing to you, but damn that fucking hurt.

Iceeeeeee. I love it. I think He meant it as torture, not realizing it is one of my MOST favorite things EVER! He made me put ice cubes in my bra right on top of my nipples. He made me lay on my back until they melted. I got close to cumming so many times... The cold just feels SO amazing.

I've been fighting giving 100% control. I told Him 96% is the closest He will get. I don't think He accepts that. He will have to. I don't lose control to just anyone. I think He wants to own me. It will not happen. Noone will ever own me. Not again.

Ok. Saturday night...

So, I went out Saturday night... I had a birthday party for a friend... He made me do a little... "craft" project. I took one of my bras and taped tacks (facing in, of course) inside the cup. He made me wear it all night. I saw friends I haven't see it in a while, so lots of hugging, and such... and each hug dug the tacks into my udders deeper. I was out for several hours. I threw up a couple times from the pain. I have a SUPER low pain tolerance, as I've said before.

When I got home, I peeled the bra back, revealing the small point-marks all over my udders. It was unbelievable painful. I think I cried for a good hour. He told me I needed to sleep in the bra. Of course, I did it. I laid on my back all night, not moving. Once I laid down, it wasn't that bad at all. It was actually not painful... or maybe, just not painful compared to earlier?

Time to go back to work. Oh, He told me He was proud of me tons today. It gives me crazy butterflies! I can't get enough.

It's been a rough day. I am exhausted, to say the least. I worked a 20 hour shift. My body is aching... I came home, and He had planned for us to spend some time together. I was kind of anxious/nervous, and after that shift, I really just wanted to tell Him "No."

I learned about breast-binding... or in my case, udder-binding. I really only have one word for that... OW! He keeps saying "Tighter, Tighter.." They turned a pinkish-blue. Um.. yeah. It pleases Him, so of course I will do it, but that is NOT something I enjoy at all.... or would ever do on my own accord. At one point, I felt like I couldn't breathe. He kept making me move, stand up, sit down. I was just managing to hold back the tears. I don't think he likes tears.

He told me yesterday that He has no intention of breaking me. He likes that I give myself to Him freely. No need to break me. That was a relief.

So, I am going to shower up and head to bed. I will post about Saturday night later today. Lots happened. :)

I am starting this because He wants me to. I think I am a terrible writer, and I really do not know what to say, but He wants me to and I love pleasing Him, so here it is. He tells me what to do, and I do it. He calls me "cunt." I like it... sometimes.

He gave me a number. My very own number. 243. He says it's a number that is calming, soothing. I do not think that describes me, but maybe what He wants me to be. I think sometimes I just manage to get on His nerves.

I have given Him my hard limits. He likes to push on them a good bit. That mostly just serves to infuriate me.

He likes writing. I write all over my udders and whore-hole for Him. He loves the pictures of it. He has me take lots of pics everyday and send to Him.

When I misbehave, I stand in the corner. For hours. Upon hours. Or He makes me inflict pain on myself. He has told me some of the other "exciting" punishments He has come up with recently. They do not sound exciting to me. He is a sadist. I am not a masochist at all. I am extremely touch-sensitive. I have a very low pain tolerance. I sometimes feel inadequate that I can't satiate that side of Him. He has only suggested that once. I felt horrible when He did, though. I am not enough.

I have had some traumatizing experiences with this lifestyle, and I'm constantly in fear of falling back into what I call the "dark places." Sometimes I feel like He is leading me back there. Sometimes He suggests things. I feel the grip of fear. I don't know if He does not care, or if He just likes to see the traumatized child come out.

He said I should write about what I do to please him... I just do whatever He says. He tells me what to eat, I eat it. He tells me when I can sleep, and that is when I sleep. He tells me if I can speak, and that is when I speak.... or not... as the case may be.

I try to please Him, and when I do, I feel good about myself. I really like when He tells me He is proud of me. I feel like I can accomplish anything if I can make Him happy.

He calls it servitude. He says He decides everything. I agree and disagree. He is right, He does decide almost everything. I can not argue with that at all, but I do it because it is something I want just as much as He desires me to do it. I do it of my own free will.

I guess that is all I have right now. I am not much of a writer. I just write whatever comes to my mind, and wherever it falls on the page, that is where it stays. I apologize if it is difficult to read, or seems rambling. It is just me.