Tuesday, May 31, 2016


I could continue talking about my family drama, but for now, I think I will give it a rest. I'm trying not to think about it right this minute. It's like chess, and I'm not sure what my next move should be. 

So, let's talk about happy things. 

Friday night marked another first for me. Master and I went out and had drinks with an erotic photographer. It was a pretty nice place. Master and I, both, felt very at ease with the photographer. In case of an opportunity to shoot, I was asked to leave undergarments at home. 

I felt pretty sexy that night. My clothes clung to my frame in all the right places. Without underwear, I felt ever so slightly exposed. Very exciting. 

We found a booth in a dark corner of the bar. Master and I curled up together. The photographer sat opposite us. I was feeling a little nervous, but with Master there, I knew I was totally safe. So, I let go... had a drink... or five. I added to the conversation when I could, but really, Master did most of the talking. I was along for the ride, and I was actually enjoying them talking about me like I wasn't there. 

Master asked me to take off my jacket. Underneath, I wore only a thin cotton tee. As my jacket fell away, I felt the coolness of the room against my breasts. My shirt did not hide my figure. Suddenly, I was an object. The photographer looked at me appreciatively. He and Master continued to talk. 

I don't actually know how long we were there. I would assume that the three of us left sometime after midnight. Master decided that we would go ahead and take a few impromptu photos so that the photographer could get an idea of how comfortable I am with the camera and how Master and I work together. 

It wasn't a glamorous setup. But it was still a good time. We drove to a nearby parking lot. Master put his rear seats down, and I climbed into the back. 

It was all just sexy fun. The clothes came off, and I put on a show. I stretched and touched myself. I writhed in pleasure, legs open wide. Master slid his fingers into my pussy. I moaned in pleasure. He spanked my clit. I was asked to roll over; face down, ass up. The play continued. Master spanked me hard. I believe the photographer spanked me too, but nothing without Master's permission. They moved from my behind to the inside of my thighs. I screamed in pain and pleasure. When they had finished, I was exhausted... and satisfied. 

The photographer got out of the car. I climbed into the front seat and Master unzipped his pants. I took his cock into my mouth and began sucking greedily. It had only been a minute or two when there was a knock at the window. Our photographer was back. He asked if he could watch the blow job. I only had one focus. It didn't matter to me. Master agreed. 

There was something delicious about being watched while I pleased Master. So, I sucked until Master came, and the photographer finished quietly standing beside the car. I felt like a pageant queen.

We said our goodbyes and took our leave. We are all looking forward to the formal shoot. 

Monday, May 30, 2016

Defying former Masters

I have been a submissive my entire life. 

I am the introverted child of two introverts. My parents did not have friends really while I was growing up, not until I went to college.

I never fit in with my classmates. From the very start, I was different. I don't know how much of that is nature and how much is nurture, but different nevertheless. 

Because of this, I had a very limited number of friends growing up. My parents were my entire world and I, theirs. I was always very eager to please. I would do whatever I could to get attention, praise, affection from my parents. And, truly, it was plentiful. 

Up until I was about eight years old, my existence was pretty awesome. 

Then, my dad, (I had been daddy's little girl) withdrew. Something had changed. 

I have been turning this over and over in my mind for years. The only solution that I can find is that I started to turn into a girl. Prior to that... I was kind of unisex. I could go out and go to airshows with my dad, go hiking, shoot model rockets. 

Whatever the actual cause, it happened. 

My parents were very protective of me growing up. They were in charge of pretty much every aspect of my life, and their opinions governed the occurences of my life. They were also acutely religious... they things that they didn't control, someone in the Church had made an edict to cover. Thou shalt not... whatever. Pick your nose in church. Be sexually attracted to anyone. (unless you are married, of course)The list could go on forever. 

Until I moved out of my home town, this continued to be the case. I was married... but it didn't matter much. My parents' opinion still continued to play a major role in the actions that I took in my life. This really wasn't a problem until I began to have my own ideas. Heaven forbid. 

All things change. I moved away, outside of their sphere of influence. My horizons expanded. 

When I got my divorce, it was as though my parents expected me to just come right back under their wing. After the tyranny of my ex, I wanted nothing to do with their control. I was burned out on religion, the Church, the South. I was emotionally at my limits and all it felt that they wanted to do was "bring me back into the fold." Come home, marry the preacher's son, have four beautiful blue-eyed children... blah blah blah. 

Well, it's been three years now. I feel like I have been continually turning their hair grey since that time. I have done outrageous things like: have more than one sexual partner, try marijuana, read Henry Miller. I'm so scandalous. 

And yet, defying their wishes is still one of the hardest things that I do. I was talking to Master a couple of days ago, when I had an interesting thought on this. My parents were my first Masters. They controlled my thoughts and actions for 24 years. No wonder this is difficult for me. 

But, I have the support of friends, Master, my therapist. 

I will continue to put one foot in front of the other, and take one day at a time. Someday, I will look back on these few years and be glad that I made my own path. Today, I'm simply exhausted. 

Wednesday, May 25, 2016

In contrast

Without contrast, we would not be able to see, to tell one object from another. 

So, here is the counterweight to my previous post. 

My plane landed in Washington and I still felt like the horror was creeping up behind me. Master picked me up from my cousin's house to drive me home. I was raw. 

I cuddled against his arm most of the way home. 

He held me tight against him. He told me he loved me. He told me I was beautiful, special, obedient. He held me firm, steady. I didn't cry. The tears wanted to fall, but they couldn't. I was furious. I was hurt. I was completely taken aback by the lack of understanding that I had experienced from my family. 

He continued to hold me. We moved into my bed, and I wrapped myself around him like wisteria climbing a tree. 

As we laid there, intertwined, I felt the tension slowly begin to loosen its grasp. The tingling up my back lessened. My shoulders relaxed. He kissed me tenderly, showered me with love and affection. 

He slid his hands over my pussy and I felt the warmth spreading through my body. 

I lifted my body so that he could remove my leggings. As I did so, my shirt slid up and revealed letters, written across my chest in Sharpie. 

"MASTER'S WHORE," it read. Just as he had ordered. 

I was slick with my own juices, and his fingers slid inside me. He cradled my body with one arm, and fingered my pussy with the other. It felt as though I was being held inside and out in the warmth of his embrace. His fingers picked up the pace. I felt the rush of endorphins flowing through my body. He didn't command me to cum. He asked. 

I came twice? Three times? Hardly matters. I felt whole and secure cradled in Master's arms. 

But I still didn't cry. The emotions were still closed up tight inside me. 

Without warning, Master struck me hard across the side of my face. Again. Again. Harder each time. My eyes began to tear. The final blow made my ear ring. Shocked, I looked into his eyes and was met with softness. Tears fell freely. I sobbed. I clung to him and relinquished my control as wave after wave of sorrow and rejection came over me. When the flood began to recede, he explained. "I could tell you were still holding back, little one. You are always safe with me. You will tell me all that hurts you. You may feel freely here, with me. Let it all go." 

Master asked me to write a post about people who make me feel wonderful and beautiful.

I have other beautiful friends, each of them knowing a different facet of my personality. In their respective realms, they nourish and protect me. Naomi, Jeana, Melanie, Megan, Becky I love them all so dearly and so differently. I don't know where I would be today without them. 

But He most certainly tops the list. He is kind and loving. He provides me with structure and security when I am distressed. He knows how to break me when I am not being true to myself. I have always felt like loving people was my calling in life, but Master makes it so effortless. 

My submission to him comes so easily and so joyfully. I have no difficulty trusting that whatever he does with me will turn out alright. No matter how painful, cruel, harsh or degrading, I know that Master loves me and cherishes me, that he values my love and my submission. When I am in submission to him, my will laid at his feet, I feel serene and breathtakingly beautiful. I feel alive. Sheltered. Protected. Whole. 

There is nothing else for which a sub could ask. 


This weekend ended like the Japanese war effort in WWII. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Face-melting explosion. Son of a bitch. Fuck. Radiation. Goddamnit. Nuclear fallout. Shit. Mother fucker. Dust cloud.  



But first, a little background. My parents are extremely conservative southern Christians, bless their hearts. They are the sweetest, most intelligent bigots I know. 

I moved to Washington about 6 months ago. I had finished graduate school and gotten an amazing job offer. (I had always planned on moving to the PNW anyway.) They fought me tooth and nail. Now, you might think that I'm probably old enough to make my own decisions, and I am, but my parents were very strict and controlling when I was growing up and to this day I still have trouble doing things of which they do not approve. But I knew what I needed. With my friends and my therapist backing me, I made the move regardless. 

Try as I might, I could not get them to see my point of view.

I am a libertarian, agnostic, bisexual submissive who grew up in a small town in Texas. My parents, up until this point, didn't really know these things about me. In a fit of extreme frustration, I told my mother that I was bisexual and that I was into BDSM. The awkward was certainly palpable. It didn't work. But, fast forward to the present. 

Master and I have been together for about a month. It's been completely amazing so far. I've been trying to share vanilla details about our relationship with my parents. Everything seemed to be going ok... 

On Sunday morning, I walked in to say good morning to my dad and was met with a very strange comment. "I am praying that you don't get AIDS." ...WHAT? What the fuck is going on here? The conversation that followed was a halting assurance to my father that I was being tested regularly and taking care of my health. I suppose most families have had conversations like that at some point... but let me add that my parents feel that sex outside of marriage is 100% not ok... let alone kinky sex. 

...Praying that I don't get AIDS. Wow Dad. Thanks. 

I let it go. I figured he wasn't feeling well, or was in a lot of pain (from a chronic injury). I did mention it to my mother the next day. Her comment was, "I don't think he meant it like that. Try to take it the best way possible." Very helpful. 

But, the status quo seemed maintained. 

And then I made a gross miscalculation. The morning I got ready to leave, I put on my collar. My mother was pretty restrained and quiet for most of the drive. Then, the last half hour, she finally said what she wanted to say. 
I know what a collar is. Did you think I wouldn't notice? Do you think I'm an idiot? These decisions that you are making will not lead to your happiness. You have bought into a lie. You said you wanted to get married and have children. This life doesn't make that possible. Your dad and I are so worried about you. Cue the waterworks. You have to forgive yourself for your past. I'm sure this is why you are doing this. God loves you. You are a princess. Jesus has already forgiven your sins. We have a pretty good idea that you met [insert Master's name here] on some S&M website. He doesn't love you. This isn't love. It endorses a culture of violence. Here's the good part. You must have watched a lot of porn. God loves you, honey. You need JESUS!
I was silent. There was no point. She was hysterical. Her heart was breaking over the fate of my soul, and all I could do was watch. It was one of the most miserable moments of my life. And this is completely aside from the fact that I was incensed, furious. I felt slandered, protective of my life and Master. As I walked away from the car with my bags, I did not look back. I don't intend to for quite a while. 

Monday, May 23, 2016

Pain in the ass

A quick update on my bruises. I am wearing them like medals. Proud of myself every time I see them. Turning black now. 


I have finally come to love my body, stretch marks and all. I think of them as tiger stripes!

Reunited and it feels so... Weird.

Night before last, I attended my 10 year high school reunion. I wasn't sure what to expect... I wasn't close with many people in my high school. That being said, these people were my family. I went to the same school for 15 years. My classmates and I grew up together.

One of my dearest friends moved to New York City right after graduation. We kept in touch a little over the past few years, he grew up to be a dentist. When the invitations went out for the reunion, he made me a deal. If I would fly in, so would he. It was blackmail, you couldn't have paid me to go to the reunion. But he made an offer I couldn't refuse. 

He had the worst crush on me in high school. The. Worst. He didn't know people knew, but you would have had to be dead to miss it. 

It could have been one hell of a sexy evening. Master and I had planned it. I would wear my njoy pure plug firmly in my ass, without panties. The stage was set. I could feel the weight of the plug each time I moved. I was on the brink of orgasm... Perpetually. My prey was my dearest friend, Kurt. I was gussied up in a long dress that clung to my curves. Master gave me the rules of engagement. 

Fingering under your dress, rubbing over his pants, touching, feeling. Dirty talk. No kissing. 

Kurt and I embraced with affection when we met at the event center. We got drinks on the way in. The evening started off well. However, the alcohol was flowing a little fast. Conversation was good. It was good to see everyone. Kurt appeared to be having the time of his life. We stayed fairly close to each other all evening... The occasional embrace, the touch of a hand, I kept up my seduction. We flitted from conversation to conversation, one group to another. Mostly, a group of four of us stuck together. It was me, Kurt, JJ, and Sarah. 

People started going home a little after 2300. The event center clearly didn't keep the doors open for all night parties. But, the four of us were not ready to part ways. What followed, was a bit of a scavenger hunt to find a bar that was still open. I don't think any of us are accustomed to small-town life anymore. He didn't occur to us that a bar could close before 0200 on a Saturday night. They say the third time is the charm, it certainly was for us. We drove from one end of town to the other, and finally we stopped in the middle, the third bar proving to not only be open, but be near the hotel where my friends were staying. 

By this time, I was quite drunk. Kurt was worse. I started drinking on a full stomach... This gave me an advantage. Kurt? He hadn't eaten since lunch. And he started his evening with tequila. Ambitious to say the least. 

He pressed into the booth close beside me. His arm about my shoulders. My hand on his knee. 

Master and I had been texting all evening. He with questions. Me with reports. "Finger yourself under the table and lick off your juices," he said. "Send picture proof." 

I would love to share the picture with you all, but my job depends on me keeping up professional appearances, and I'm not sure my employer would look kindly upon the content here. 

I was so proud of myself. I felt so sneaky. There we were in the picture, him smiling like he was having the time of his life (more on that later) and me with my fingers coyly in my mouth. 

I slid my hand up Kurt's leg and rested it gently against his crotch. No stir beneath my hand, but he seemed pleased. 

I wish I could tell you about our brilliant conversation, our wordplay and loquative brilliance... But I'm afraid, I don't have much recollection. You will simply have to take my word, the memories of a drunken girl, as substantive. 

We left the bar sometime between 0100 and 0200. The hotel was right down the street. We finally had an opportunity to be alone... But that's when things fell flat. Literally. He felt around under my skirt a little, and that's really what it was like, aimless. He felt the plug, but didn't give any indication that he had noticed. He was far too drunk to even come on to me properly. My role quickly changed from hunter to protector, when he began to talk. 

He cried. He told me he loved me. Over and over. He even proposed a few times. Any sexual ideation was gone. I held him and shushed him and patted his head. I told him gently that I loved him too, but it was no where close to the same kind of love. If the reader will pardon my Greek, he meant eros. I meant philos.

...it seemed like it went on forever. 

Master checked in periodically to know what was going on. As I re-read the texts, I can sense my growing bafflement. 

"He's almost asleep, Sir. What would you like me to do?"
"It's been 10 years and he still has feelings for me."
"He has it really bad, Sir. Like wants to marry me bad."
"He is begging me to stay."
"He is so emotional"
"I'm about to walk out, Sir."

Three hours later, I told finally told Kurt at I needed to leave. He begged and pleaded for me to stay. Master had told me not to sleep with him or share a bed, so I left. Master is always my priority. He is invaluable. 

I caught an Uber home and crashed in my bed, exhausted. 

The next morning, we toured the high school. Kurt was more than hungover. He vomited from about 1000 to 1300. I forced fluids in him. He vomited. More fluids. Repeat, ad nauseum. (Oh, I do love a good pun.) We stopped at the grocery and got supplies. I kept nursing him. Ginger. Crackers. Coconut water. Juice. Pepto. 

He slept and finally started feeling better about the time they dropped me at home. He said goodbye and thanked me. 

He promised to call later this week. We probably do have to talk about everything. Ten years is a long time to hold on to romantic feelings. 

Saturday, May 21, 2016

Master will not be ignored.

I made the mistake of leaving my laptop at home. Master wants me to keep up my blog while I am gone... I'm writing on my iPad. It feels a bit like building a ship in a bottle. 

I am nursing some glorious belt marks on my ass right now. I get to think of Master every time I sit down. I earned them. Mistakes are... Costly. 

Master does not like to be ignored. And I was negligent. He asked me a question and I disregarded it. Twice. It wasn't until he asked the third time that I answered. I was busy working on other things, but Master should always be my priority. 

Master does not lose control. He has asked me to always meet him in full submission at the door. Completely nude, I assumed the position. Knees apart, sitting on my heels, hands resting on my knees, head lowered. The front door opened. My dog ran to greet him. He met her with loving attention. Not me. 

He stood silently before me. He grabbed a handful of my hair and ordered me to get on the bed. I was not invited to look up. I was not greeted. I was in trouble. Rather than risk additional wrath, I remained on my knees and crawled into the bedroom and onto the bed. I laid there. I could feel the warmth of him behind me. I heard him unbuckle his belt. I heard the swish of leather. He rested the belt across my behind. It was warm with his heat. He informed me that it would be 40 each side. 

Crack. The belt fell hard on my bare flesh. My voice caught in my throat and I cried out. Crack. I screamed again. Crack. Crack. Crack. I was screaming in a haze of pain, my face buried in my mattress. Tears fell from my eyes, unbidden. As the belt continued to fall, I fought to keep still. All of my instincts commanded me to flee. I lost control for a moment, rising to my toes and lifting away from him. "Down, bitch." He shoved me roughly back on the bed. There was a moment of respite as the moved to the other cheek, but it didn't last. The belt fell again, and again, and again. For the final 5-10, I could no longer keep count, he spanked me hard. His open palm delivering a different type of sting from the belt. 

He moved me to the bed. As I lay on my back, he finally met my eyes.   For a moment, I saw a glimmer of pride and affection. His eyes turned steely again as his fingers slid inside me. I came on his command. Slap. My orgasm was quickly followed by a sharp slap on my clit. Followed by another. He didn't stop. My cries fell upon deaf ears. Fingers back inside. Orgasm. Slap. Fingers inside. Orgasm. Slap. Slap. Slap.

I was dazed. I was in hell. I was in heaven, and Master was beside me. With me. My mind went blank. I was unaware of the passage of time. I only knew the throbbing, the searing, and the warmth of Master's body pressed to mine. His arms surrounding me. In a moment's pause, I whispered, "I love you." I was instructed firmly not to think, and the pain resumed. 

And then it stopped. I opened my eyes, blurred with tears. Master's face was soft again. He stroked my face. He rose from the bed and effortlessly lifted me, cradled me against his chest. His chest was damp with sweat. I clung to him with the last of my strength, taking  in his warmth, his strength, and the smell of his skin. 

He laid me gently on the rug in the bathroom. He turned on the shower and helped me to my feet. He drew me into the shower with him and held me close. I remained limp on his chest. He washed me. His hands moved softly over my skin. 

I began to cry, a trickle at first widening to a flood. The emotions overwhelmed me. 


Thursday, May 19, 2016

We must begin somewhere

How is a person supposed to begin a blog? It's no small undertaking, usually chronicling something significant, important... or a person's life, which is bigger still. There are a few traditional tropes that may be relied upon, but have been used until they are worn smooth with time. They have lost their mystery and their grit.

In the beginning...
Once upon a time, in a faraway land...

So, let's try something different. Let's begin last night.

Master picked me up from home when he got off of work. I met him at the door, just as he had asked, kneeling and wearing only my jewelery. I did not raise my eyes as he entered the room. I waited for his permission. He sunk to his knees before me, meeting me in my place of submission and raised my chin to look at him. Master has kind eyes. His eyes tell a story, this time, the story was about me. I was not met with steely eyes commanding my submission, instead, the look was steeped in love and deep appreciation.

I think that Master can heal my soul. With him I feel whole, powerful, sexy, strong, and yet, intimately vulnerable. It is glorious. I was wired for submission from childhood, trained and conditioned, and being able to truly submit and trust Master makes me feel fully myself. It gives me a peace that I have not experienced in years.

I am quite certain that someday, Master and I will starve to death. Inevitably, we end up lost in each other's embrace, kiss, or gaze. Time stands completely still, at least to us, though my watch would certainly disagree. We were hours late for dinner, which is becoming a normal thing for us. Our dinner was lovely, though it doesn't matter what we eat when we are together. Neither of us seem to notice.

We drove to his place to get ready for dinner. Opening the door to the bedroom, Master threw me on the bed. He climbed on top of me, looked into my eyes and said, "I think I love you." There could have been fireworks going off, but I would not have noticed. I had seen his love for me growing... but the fact that he chose to tell me made my heart jump in my chest.

Master picked out my smallest butt plug and gently slid it into my ass. As I stood and dressed, I could feel my ass throbbing around the plug. He requested that I leave my underwear and bra at home. Normally, this would make me extremely uncomfortable, but with him I felt completely at ease. My pussy quickly became wet with desire. Throughout dinner, I was constantly aware of the juices seeping out of my secret place... I considered that they might leave a wet spot on my skirt. Then, I realized that if Master wished it, then I would not be embarrassed.

We ran to pick up snacks on the way home. When no one was looking, I reached out and caressed Master's penis. It became a game, I wished my pussy would begin to drip.

When we got back to his place, he ordered me to take off my skirt and lay on the bed. He sat on the bed beside me and his fingers slipped easily inside me. When I cum is entirely up to Master. As his fingers moved inside, he commanded me to cum. My orgasm was swiftly followed by a firm clit spanking. Each stroke burned and stung. I cried out and writhed in pain trying my hardest to keep my legs open for him. Through the pain, I felt myself beginning to descend into subspace. Our play wasn't long enough to get me all the way there last night, but the descent is a beautiful thing. He continued to alternate finger fucking with clit spankings. Each time, my orgasms got stronger. During one of my spankings I was able to continue an orgasm that I had begun the round before. I was amazed and impressed with my body.

When Master was satisfied with me, he knelt over me and I took him into my mouth. He grabbed my hair to control the depth and speed. He began forcing himself deeper into my throat. I carefully metered my breath in time with his thrusts. I began to gurgle and choke as my saliva foamed and spilled out of my mouth and onto my chest. In that moment, I felt like the most beautiful thing on Earth. I knew Master was pleased and that was everything that I wanted. As he finished in my mouth, I joyously swallowed everything that he had graciously given me.

I felt satisfied. I knew I had done well. I knew Master was pleased. I didn't need anything else.

We spent the rest of the evening curled up together watching Netflix. As we crawled into bed for the night, Master held me close and told me again that he loved me. I couldn't have been happier.