TortureCrucifyYo

(This is a journal written by a slave of mine a year ago.)

This world has a way of making us fall into routine, to the point where that is the only way we are comfortable. Every day is nearly the same, work, school, whatever it may be and without that basic routine things feel like they are spiraling out of control. So we continue one day at a time, never faltering from our routine. Until one day, something changes that routine. Anything can do it really, a new friend, a relationship, a new job, or…something totally different….

I can’t remember what started it, or why, or what made me respond but I did. After a day of emails I was in my car, driving across town to see someone I had never met before. I was convincing myself as I drove that I had completely lost my mind and that the only reason that I was going was because I had been told I wouldn’t make it there…a challenge is always enticing to me. Every block closer I got made that less likely, part of me knew it, and the other part was in denial. And then I was there and there was no time left to determine why I was there I just was.

Stepping out my car I realized the risk; here I was alone, no one knew where I was, no one knew I had left home, and no one knew that I had responded to an ad about bdsm from the internet, I was completely at risk and vulnerable, but I felt safe. And, I was turned on. My mind was racing, where was this all coming from? What on earth was I doing?!

Before I knew it I was sitting in a bedroom, of a man significantly older than I, talking, listening and being completely mesmerized by these blue eyes that were looking back at me. I was fully clothed and fully exposed. We both knew why I was there, I wanted something and even if I wasn’t sure what that was, I had taken the first step. I had shown up. Hours later I was incredulous. This man spoke of things that made my cheeks flush, but also made me crave it. Finally he asked me if I was ready to try it….

Ready to try it?! Was I? I had no idea. I knew I didn’t want to be fully exposed and naked in front of this stranger, let alone strung up to the hooks in his ceiling, I knew I didn’t want that….but if I didn’t want that then why was I so wet…it made no sense to me. It didn’t have to make sense, before I knew if I was taking off my clothes (well most of them) and found myself having my wrists slipped into soft leather and hooked up above me. There was no getting out, there was nowhere I could go, nothing I could do but place all of my trust in this stranger….who was about to show me his “cafeteria” of sensations and of pain, and I wanted it.

Slowly, almost painfully slowly, I was walked through an array of sensations from different types of whips and toys, I could hardly comprehend the feelings they were eliciting as they struck my skin.  Until one. A singletail whip.  Soft, bendy, vicious leather. It was gentle at first just softly biting into me making me suck in my breath, letting it out only after the next time I felt it’s bite. A fleeting thought passed through my mind, and it screamed to me, I love this. I love this.

Before I knew it he was speaking to me again, my head hardly having time to process that I was enjoying this, feeding off of the vulnerability I was feeling. He said two words, make it. What? I was confused at first and then I wasn’t. He wanted me to orgasm, stung up from his ceiling, while his whip danced over my skin. I was incredulous, there was no way. And then he said it again and my body did something I didn’t know was possible, I felt the stirring of an orgasm inside of me, a fire lit throughout me, and when he said go I did. I came, and I came hard. By the time the evening was over I was in shock. It was late, and I had to work the next morning. As I drove home a million thoughts ran through my head, I wondered if I was crazy. My mind tried to wrap around what had just happened, what I had just done. I told myself I wouldn’t go back, that it wasn’t safe for me to. That it was too strange, too out of the norm of my routine, too scary for me to love the feelings I had been given.

I have never been so wrong in my life.

It’s now three weeks from that fateful Sunday, and I feel as though I have been riding on the edge of a tidal wave that just can’t quite find the shore to break. I can’t count the number of times that I have been back since that Sunday and frankly I wouldn’t if I could. Every day is different now, each emotion more alive, each thought carries more weight. Don’t get me wrong the routine is still there, it has just changed and now part of the routine is everything but routine. I never know what is going to happen and everything that I set in my mind seems to be fluid now.

In just three weeks I have been exposed to a world I didn’t know existed; a club with a dungeon, a group of poly folks (some of the most logical and intelligent people I have encountered), and a slew of emotions and sensations that are less than commonplace. And, I have loved every moment of it. I feel like a sponge, absorbing everything not wanting to let any of it go.

Just last night I found myself strung up in that aforementioned dungeon, allowing my clothing to be cut off of me while others watched. My heart was racing from the nerves, I was going to be naked? In front of all of the people there? The questions flowed rapidly through my mind, why did he want me to do this here? Was doing it at his home not enough? What if I didn’t manage to do as well here as he wanted me to? Would he still want to keep me around? There were so many thoughts rapid firing through my head that I was unsure what to do. But saying “yes”, as best I could, by not saying no felt right.  It happened quickly, which was likely best. My ability to say no was taken as soon as I was clipped to the bar with the wrist cuffs, and being there, in that position, felt comfortable. It felt like where I belonged. Looking at him in front of me, the crystal in his eyes, and I was calm again. Quickly the rest of the room faded away from me and it was just him there with me, making his whip dance across my skin. Each stroke of the whip was artfully placed. Striking the most sensitive parts of my skin while leaving behind red welts, soon whip stokes were crossing each other, and every stripe gave a wave of pleasure with it. His commands came quickly, make it, go, drip. As if I could do anything else? I was craving the whip strokes, living off of his voice, melting into his eyes. All too soon it was done. And there he was, smiling at me, something else behind his eyes than the cool aura that usually fell there when he was playing with me. Adoration, pride….he was happy with me. A different kind of emotion flooded over me, I was still strung up to the bar, lost in his eyes, and he knelled before me. I was confused at first wondering why, but then, he thanked me. I felt my heart melt a little. I had made him happy, he loved me, really loved me. He was as entrapped as I was. I was happy, I was home.

After that night, after tearing down my defenses I felt as though I was really where I needed to be. I craved him after I left, his touch, his smell, his heartbeat against my skin, the kiss of his whip. It was then I realized that the pain he provides is as much as need of mine but one of his. The pleasure it gives me to suffer at his hand was reversed, he thrived off of my submission, my love of the things he does. It all changed then.

Those drives home have been clarifying for me, each and every one of them provides a deeper insight into what is going on in my mind and body around this new aspect of my life, this new…routine. I can’t seem to go without, and I don’t want to. I look at my skin now, marked red with fresh marks and bruises, and I smile. I think back on all that has happened, and I remember a sentence from a text, “welcome to your new body”. Yes, welcome, but really, it is my body welcoming me. A part of me has been released into the world, and it falls routinely into his arms. I am starting to love my body for what it is, even more so when it is covered with whip stripes, each one a display to the world of his love for me. I am home.

Relyfe Programming, Age Regression Hypnosis, advanced mentalist, Climaxes on both verbal and mental command.
Am I REAL, not a faker, go see my website above, then you will know.

If I sent you a letter, your profile was then HIDDEN, I do not waste time chasing (or stalking) AnyOne, and do not want to accidently send another to you. All profiles I look at end up hidden; either becaise I sent a letter, or you didn't say you seek a sadist like me. This makes keeping up with CM pretty simple. If you DO seek someone like me, then please contact me, BECAUSE I have probably already hidden your profile.
I am MUCH MORE than just a Sadist,, but that is just the First Filter.

The 4th of July Party,,,,, The Climaxes on Verbal, then Mental Command
At a party recently in our local private club, I had a unusual event occur. I had often been able to have various slaves climax, on verbal command, but in this case, it was a slave who I had never yet touched, much less played with. We had been acquainted through meetings of a local Poly group, but were just casual conversationalists.

At this party, though, she had been watching over the back of the sofa I was setting on, as I was doing chain bondage (much like some rope bondage) on another lady.

I asked her if She Was Next? And she seemed to be interested.

So later, she joined me on her knees in front of the sofa. I was going to do chain bondage, but suddenly decided to so some verbal commands to climax. She responded with screaming climaxes for 15 minutes.

This was so powerful that I decided to try pure mental control, with nothing verbal. I told her to read my mind, and feel what I was doing to her mentally.

This began the 45 minute long series of almost continuous climaxes. The Dungeon Monitor had just come on his duty shift at the top of the hour, as I began the mental command without any spoken or “mouthed’ words. Being seated a few feet away, he documented the 45 minutes.

Her story follows:

I hadn’t planned to play that night. I’d taken a sleeping pill by accident that morning and spent most of the day napping, causing me to be two hours late to the annual 4^th of July barbeque. The night before, I’d broken up with a man I’d been dating for 1-1/2 years. My occasional bottom was leaving the party as I arrived. A woman I’d recently connected with on was unable to make it down from Phoenix.

I spent the first couple of hours socializing and flirting, paying only intermittent attention to the ongoing scenes. I’d noticed that Master Seth, seated in front of me on the couch, was creating a bondage pattern on his slave. But he was using various lengths of chains and snap clips in lieu of rope. It was similar to the way some over all body rope work is woven. I had known Master Seth for over a year through a local poly group and had seen him play a couple of times at this private club dungeon. I must have said something out loud, because he looked back at me, and asked “Are you next?”

Without thinking, I said yes – imagining only that he would duplicate the chain corseting process with me. A few moments later, I heard his slave crying out as he played a short black leather single-tail over her skin. Ouch! I don’t like to be single tailed.

When Master Seth was done, he called me over, I stripped off my leather skirt and tank top. I knelt on a pillow at Master Seth’s feet as he sat in front of me on the couch. A blanket was spread behind me with the chains laid out in neat rows on a blanket behind me. We began a brief negotiation; Then suddenly Master Seth asked if I’d ever climaxed on command. I’d been experiencing amazing sexual energy over the past year and I had climaxed while making out a couple of times. But I’d never climaxed without some sort of foreplay physical contact, and certainly never on Verbal Command!

Without touching me at all, Master Seth directed me to put my knees together, clench my legs, and look deeply into his eyes. I remember noticing that his normally hazel eyes were a piercing blue, offset by his stark white beard. We locked eyes for only a moment before I broke the connection. I was curious but also skeptical that words alone could actually induce an orgasm without any physical contact. Master Seth mentioned something about working with and teaching ESP; I vaguely recalled a conversation with him months earlier when he insisted to me that I am an “intuitive”.

Before my mind could wander any further – or become rationally concerned and put up any defenses, Master Seth again captured my eyes with his piercing intense gaze. He asked if I could read his thoughts. I emptied my mind and concentrated on maintaining his gaze and trying to decipher his thoughts. I remember thinking, “I can’t read anyone’s mind, is he crazy?” Then, suddenly, on his verbal command, I CLIMAXED for the first time. Wait, what?!

He continued to mouth the word “go” and I DID ! Really?! He hadn’t touched me with any part of his body, only with his eyes staring into my eyes. I didn’t have time to process my thoughts any further before the next wave of orgasm rocked my body. I remember his hands forming into claws in his lap, and I felt ever deeper waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I fell back onto the chains and grabbed at the blanket, screaming with the continuing climaxes. I was completely unaware of anything other than his eyes and my body pulsing. His verbal commands continued for 15 minutes, as I continued to respond with screaming climaxes to his eyes and his compelling voice commands. Not once did he ever touch me or threaten me in any way.

After a few moments of relaxing, he then told me we were going to try this again, but This Time it would be with NO Verbal commands, just mental contact, and locked eye contact. I was to just read his eyes, and his mental commands. No, this cannot be possible ! !

But he was right!

The next long period of “purely mental, non-verbal, exchange of power” turned into a virtual onslaught of very intense, hard, body shaking climaxes, over which I seemed to have NO control, waves of contractions seized my body, shaking and quaking and loudly screaming with uncontrollable waves of constant climaxes!

A couple of times, I feebly tried to break our mental and eye connection – it was too much! But without speaking or touching me, Master Seth would point two fingers to my eyes then towards his, re-directing me to maintain our pure “locked eyes” contact. But there were no other hand signals, or controlling signs physically, just his eyes, and the strong flow of thoughts from his mind to mine, controlling, twanging, tormenting, my most private parts of my body and my reactions with his thoughts, as though he had plugged in to my total nervous system, and put me on remote control.

More waves of orgasms would crash over me and I would be pulled back into the depth of the unbelievable intensity of sensations and more screaming climaxes. At some point, I just started laughing along with the peaks of the screaming climaxes, reveling in this celebration, this fantastic ecstasy, this totally wanton playfulness as he controlled my entire nervous system and my sexual responses. As I approached total exhaustion and hysterical laughing, Master Seth finally allowed the connection to be broken, and instructed me to relax. This was the first words he had spoken since we started this “purely mental, non-verbal” exchange of power.

I collapsed back again,, exhausted, on the spread out chains and blanket, trying to catch my breath, and control the pounding in my heart and the pulsing of my body. Someone brought my inhaler and water. I continued laughing and basking in the afterglow of our mind blowing experience, and the climaxing “after-shocks”. It was a real individual and personal sexual experience for me, but nothing even remotely like masturbation, and there had been NO physical stimulation by him or me. As I came slowly back to awareness, I asked Master Seth how long I’d been “out” on this amazing “head trip”. He turned to the Dungeon Monitor sitting nearby to us, and the DM indicated at least 45 minutes. Amazing!

This turned out to be only the first act. After I came down enough to speak, Master Seth and I had another brief negotiation. Someone helped him to fasten and arrange the chains on my body as we initially planned to do. I liked the cold metal against my flushed skin. The snap clips and chain links pinched in all the right places. I was still incredibly turned on.

The rest of the night is not very clear, just a blur of being suspended in chain wraps and wrist cuffs, accepting and enjoying the single tail on my breasts, asking Master Seth to stop without speaking aloud, feeling protected in his arms, lying naked on the table as his fingers entered my wet and throbbing cunt, splashing cum as he deeply finger fucked me… Just a wonderful blur of pleasure.

When we were finished, he told me there would be a price for this evening. The price was that I had to write this report of my “experience” from the subs perspective. He said it was too special to not document it, and that the documentation should come from me a my experience. So this is my report of this amazing event.

It later turned out, as we compared notes a week or so later, that neither of us had much clear memory of the events after the intense, mind blowing Mental Control which created these climaxes. Apparently the intense mental effort created this mini memory block for both of us.

Smiles,, OK Master Seth…my debt is paid.

I wonder if I could ever go to that “headspace” again.

Humm,,, maybe,,,, “Oh Seth??” (laughing,,, and twinging)

© NH Girl
September 16, 2010

Your question was elegantly simple,, the best one I have ever had posed to me.

"What do you want from me?"

I want a alave who is totally committed to her Master body, soul, and life,,,,

A slave who needs this lifestyle like she needs to breath.

A slave who can be tortured, until her skin feels like it has been skinned off of her, and turned inside out, who needs to be taken way beyond what ever she thought she could stand,,

Broken, sobbing crying,, begging for mercy, because I love tears,, and turning you into a quivering blob collapsed on the floor.

A slave who then can be molded into my trophy slave,, and who will be scooped up, cuddled, cared for, loved, and who can handle both of these extremes,, pain,, and love.

Most cannot handle both extremes, or believe a Master cannot either,,, guess what,, this one can.

A slave who will adore and passionately love her Master.

A slave who is bi, and who would love to maybe have a sister slave, where in each others arms you can both suffer for your masters pleasure.

A slave who I can take out in public, be proud of,, show you off, can go to social events,, and who can also be strung up naked in our local dungeon club, on exhibition, naked,, for me to also be proud of you there as a beautiful addition to the clubs decor.

Your question was simple,, I love it.

I hope the answer is helpful.

With Kindest Regards,

Master Seth

The "Torture Crucify Whip You Master" with 43 years of experience as a Sadist.

I hide about 15 profiles a day, who are not a match, do not like pain, or who did not reply, or did not say they would relocate, so I do not have to keep looking at same old profiles all the time..... I am not just about pain, I have a very active life, and have a very wide base of interests. But if you do not like pain, or willing to fulfil the needs of a sadist master, then we do not have a starting point to look beyond that.