tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56563703427684153672024-03-05T02:07:28.894-08:00A Severe BeautyThe submissive undertakings and erotic adventures of one, Catlytt Black. Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.comBlogger36125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-75726783475044236192017-07-31T14:33:00.002-07:002017-08-09T14:24:00.932-07:00Reflections<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Daddy asked me to reflect today on my slavery, what it brings to my life and what I can do to deepen my servitude. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Today, I had a pretty bad freak out. I felt like this bottomless void had opened up and I just wanted to sink into despair and give up. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">My Master is my life. He is the center of my universe. For a while today, I got really caught up in some emotions that weren't based in truth. But I have been reminded, by friends, of things that I know are true. He loves me, dearly. He comes home to me everyday because he wants to be with me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Looking straight into the face of the despair, feeling as though I had lost him, I am reminded again of how much I need him. My slavery gives me structure. It keeps me safe. It gives me a sense of belonging and meaning. I love him so desperately. I get frightened sometimes of what would happen to me without him, but I'm not going to be without him. We made a commitment to each other and that is what is real. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">As far as deepening my servitude, I feel the answer is always taking better care of myself. This is an area where I really struggle. I need to get to the gym, get enough sleep, take care of my health. These are the things that give me the emotional and physical strength that I need to serve him as well as I can. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Please forgive me, Daddy. </span>Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-51265531133676977062017-06-25T11:53:00.002-07:002017-06-25T11:57:07.605-07:00PTSD, sore knuckles, and girl kisses Part 1<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Prologue</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Once upon a time, an American boy moved to China to teach english. He was happy there, and he was not often happy. He met a beautiful Chinese girl, named Shuo, and fell in love. He decided that he wanted to marry her. So, he talked to her about it. He was going to go back to America to make some money, so that he could support her, and they could start a family. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">But he didn't understand love well, and he thought Shuo was too naive, to inexperienced with the world. So, he convinced her too break off their relationship in hopes that when he was able to return for her that she would have lived a little and learned a little. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">He wasn't gone for a year when he heard that she had gotten married, gotten her green card and moved to San Francisco. He was heart broken. I took pictures of him with a ring box and he made a proposal video. She never responded, and I just knew it was my turn.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">We started "dating." We were already living together at the time. I started hearing stories about Shuo. She managed to get back in touch with him. I couldn't take the stories. Every time that he mentioned her, I dissolved into a puddle of tears. <b>But I loved him like my life depended on it. </b></span><br>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><u>Two years passed</u></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">___________________________________________________</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">It was dark outside. I was drunk. He was drunk. I stood behind the kitchen island like it would protect me from him. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"I hate that I can't ever talk to you about what's going on in my life."</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"I really wish you would..."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"You can't handle it."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"I do my best. Let me try. Please."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"No."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Please, let me try." Tears stung in my eyes.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"You can't handle what I'm going to say."</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Yes, I CAN!"</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Shuo came to visit me that weekend. Now, <b>she is pregnant with my baby.</b>"</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I felt the impact in my stomach, like I had been kicked. I slid to the ground, heaving and gasping for breath. <i>I wish I could say that I blacked out and that was the end of the story... but I didn't and it wasn't. </i>The baby turned out to be a lie, to prove to me that I couldn't handle what he had to say... but you can't take back words like that.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">We talked all night, if you can call it talking; intermittently fighting, sobbing, yelling. We were getting on a plane in the morning to California. We had an interview for a postgraduate fellowship. Rather than staying in a hotel for the night before our interviews, he asked me to drive all night to San Francisco so that he could see her. I said yes. There wasn't anything else to say. He loved her... I had always been second choice. We were over. He had been my everything. In fact, he still was. I was nothing. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">The following morning, we got on the plane. Something felt terribly wrong. The clothes I was wearing felt like sandpaper on my skin. The roar of the plane was deafening and painful. I couldn't move, loaded into my seat like a sardine. There was a baby crying. <b>I tried to sleep. I couldn't.</b> I felt panic rising in the back of my throat like vomit. <i>Or maybe that was vomit.</i> The people behind me were talking too loudly. My mouth was dry. I couldn't relax in my seat. <b>I tried to sleep. I couldn't.</b> Every second felt like a day. I started wishing I would die. I didn't die. That two and a half hours felt like weeks. We landed in Houston. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I would have clawed my way off that plane had it been possible. <b>The feelings didn't stop.</b> I found myself hyperventilating. I was frantic. Getting off the plane didn't help. But, he was with me. He got us to the next gate and on the plane. <b>The feelings didn't stop.</b> My skin felt raw, my nerves, my mind was awash in a sea of horrible, overwhelming (perfectly normal) sensations.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>It was hot.</b> </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">The instant we pulled away from the gate, I knew it had been a horrible mistake. <b>It was hot.</b> We taxied out onto the tarmac and paused... the baby kept crying. The people kept talking. My clothes kept tearing my skin. <b>It was hot.</b> The panic had never stopped, but now it was worse. We sat on the tarmac, while I wanted to die, while I wanted to tear my skin off, while I just wanted everything to *cease*.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Forty-five minutes passed. The only thing that kept me in my seat was the idea that, IF fate/providence/god/gods saw fit, the plane would go back to the terminal. If the plane would just go back to the terminal, everything would be ok. </span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">If the plane would just go back to the terminal, everything would be ok. </span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">If the plane would just go back to the terminal, everything would be ok. </span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">If the plane would just go back to the terminal, everything would be ok.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">The plane did go back to the terminal. It was missing some part. All of my thoughts, the grating, rasping, tearing, burning sensations told me to FLEE.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">So, I did. I shared a rental car with this delightful alcoholic, lesbian flight attendant who dropped me at my parents' house. And the rest of that story... was my first manic break.</span><br><div style="text-align: center;"><br></div>
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Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-33783023217595560072017-06-02T17:12:00.000-07:002017-06-02T17:12:19.097-07:00To give up everything<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I missed my therapy appointment today. I felt sleepy and anxious, so I laid down for a nap. I set an alarm for an hour. I woke up 15 minutes after my session would have started. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I told Daddy. I knew he would be unhappy with me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"This is unacceptable. As far as I am concerned, your therapy is your most important responsibility, even more than work. You will call and make catch-up appointments to make up for the time you have lost. If this behavior persists, I will have you become a stay-at-home slave/pet with no responsibilities to anyone other than me. Go cum in the bedroom floor thinking of that."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">My career is so important to me. I worked so hard and lost so much getting that degree. With tears in my eyes, I laid in the floor of the bedroom and held my vibrator to my clit. The sadness and disappointment gave way to a feeling of sweet relief. I could literally spend every moment serving my beloved. He would be my sole responsibility. I could dedicate my time to serving him and raising beautiful, healthy children after he breeds me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">In that moment of peace and sunlight, my eyes rolled back in my head and I came... hard. </span>Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-46681978313649175212017-06-02T16:26:00.002-07:002017-06-02T16:28:15.193-07:00On my submission and slavery<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">For me, slavery is a promise. I promise to obey and shape myself to his will. He promises to command me and to take responsibility for the consequences of his commands. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Slavery means that he will always own me, that I will never be free or alone again. His commands come before everything else in my life (I struggle with this). My days start and end with him. He is my god and I will worship. I will obey without question and in my obedience I will find freedom. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Submission is a choice. It is a sign of respect. I voluntarily demean myself, subjugate myself to your will. In this way, I show you my love, my trust. I give you myself. This is not because I am not capable of standing alone. It is because I long to kneel at your feet, to feel the serene peace of giving myself to you. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I love you. I worship you. I adore you. </span></div>
Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-17757239353586116582017-05-05T11:00:00.001-07:002017-05-05T11:01:11.291-07:00It's like a kinky fairytale<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>April 29th marked the one year anniversary of meeting the love of my life, the man who keeps the moon and stars in the sky, who owns my soul and demands my worship. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">This year has completely changed my life. I am not the person he met one year ago. I'm better and stronger, emotionally and physically. Words cannot express how grateful I am. To show him how much I love him, I continually strive to deepen my service to him. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">We get closer and closer everyday. Last night, we stood together in the shower and laughed like idiots. He's my best friend. He takes better care of me than I do. He taught me that I was a slave and has gently and firmly helped me to deepen my position below him. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">He's been forgiving of my weakness, understanding of my pain, all the while encouraging me to be a better version of myself. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">When he kisses me, the same electricity still shoots down my spine, weakening my knees and wetting my pussy. I still get the same thrill from the way he looks at me, the way he can be tender one moment and stern the next. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I never expected to find love like this. I had given up. I had decided never to marry again. I wasn't willing to make that kind of commitment to anyone. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I remember the day we talked about it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>"When I ask you to marry me, you will say yes."</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>"Yes Sir," I said. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">That was it, end of discussion. I felt the fear quiver in my belly, the uncertainty in the back of my mind... But trust trumped it all. I let go.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">We aren't engaged yet, but it has become a fact on the calendar of our lives. It's going to happen. Only he knows when. And I'm alright with that. I'm in no rush. The idea still frightens me, but it doesn't come close to the way that I love and trust him. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Sometime in the next few months, I am going to get my first tattoo. Yesterday, I made a decision about it. I want Daddy to choose it. I want him to place it. And I don't want to see it until it is a permanent decoration on my body. I think it's a beautiful picture of the trust that I have in him and my desire to be marked as his. <b>It will be a permanent I love you. </b></span><br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Daddy, </span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I cannot imagine my life without you and I don't ever want to try. I love you desperately and without reservation and I know you feel the same. For the first time in my life, I can be 100% me. I don't have to hide anything. I've never experienced transparency like this before. Thank you for loving me more than I have ever been loved and for accepting me for who I am. I cannot imagine a better person to have as my life partner, my PIC, my monster, my sounding board, my strength, the father of my children, and my </span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">beloved. Thank you for this beautiful year and thank you for all the years to come. </span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I love you.</span></blockquote>
Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-34067400555675745922017-05-05T09:37:00.003-07:002017-05-05T09:41:51.222-07:00Mortal Combat: Catlytt vs. Anxiety... FIGHT!<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Hello all, </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">It's been too long since I have written. We have much to discuss. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">The past few months have been emotionally hard for me. I don't have a particularly good reason, but I have been struggling with my anxiety in a very overwhelming way. To ease the struggle, I have been filling my spare time with bad habits. I've been drinking too much... getting high enough that I cannot function... finding other ways to free my mind and my body from the constant feeling of butterflies in my stomach, racing thoughts, acid reflux, and intense, chronic fatigue. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">So I apologize to you, my dear reader, and myself for not respecting my body and mind as Daddy's priceless treasure and caring for myself as he cares for me. I have sorely neglected my duties. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">They say that bad news always comes in threes. It's been a little over a month now, but I had a week that totally wrecked me. It was a work week, so it was already fairly stressful. Master texted me on a Wednesday morning.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>"My mom got diagnosed with lymphoma."</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i>WHAT!? Who texts that sort of thing? </i>So I called him and I was met with an almost disturbing calmness and a matter of fact acceptance(I was crying). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Reeling from that discovery, Thursday, I got a call from the county jail. One of my best friends had just gotten arrested. <b>He used me as his one call.</b> The man has been going through a horrible divorce and his ex is a witch. She found a way to ruin his life, yet again. Angry and in protective mamma bear mode, I called his girlfriend. I called Master. I was livid that his ex was yet again able to grab him by the balls and do something like this. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Monday: I called my mom to chat on my way to work. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b><br />"Did you hear that your cousin had a stroke?"</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i>WHAT?! </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Last night, her husband called us this morning." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">My heart was racing... <i>How could that happen? She's 36! She has five kids and a husband that need her. This is horrible. </i></span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I got to work at 0700. I talked to my boss. By 0830, I was on the road north. I spent the morning at the hospital with her, her husband, and my uncle who few in from Montana overnight. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">She's alright. Thank goodness. She has a few lasting deficits which are resolving. The upside of this is that she is now getting the therapy that she needs to cope with her life and the massive responsibilities that she is always carrying.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Needless to say, I have been run ragged. <b>Something had to be done...</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I completely tapered myself off of my ADHD medication. I have been suspicious for some time that it was contributing to my anxiety (It is a stimulant, after all). This has significantly helped. I've also been very deliberate about taking time, every 2 weeks, to take time for myself: go get a manicure, a massage, something relaxing. It's starting to make a difference and I can feel the tension that has been a constant in my life beginning to unwind like a spring. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">An exciting side-effect of taking care of myself... is that each time I make a decision to prioritize my mental health, it opens up additional possibilities. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">For example, I have been going to the gym. I haven't been consistent enough to really call it a success yet, but I have noticed something that I hadn't noticed before. Last time that I tried to use exercise as a stress management technique, it made no noticeable difference. I think I was just too far gone. When you're in the middle of suicidal depression, lifestyle changes don't seem to help that much. This time, it's different. I actually feel amazing after I go to the gym. I didn't go first thing in the morning yesterday and I had a pretty crappy mood day, until I went to the gym in the evening. It completely fixed it. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I'm feeling encouraged, for the first time in a long time. Thank you, my lovely readers, for waiting so patiently. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Much love,</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">cat</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-63842376715786253962017-01-25T15:09:00.003-08:002017-01-25T15:10:42.567-08:00You took me<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I met you at the door. My hand slid behind your head as our lips met. My tongue pushed past your lips. I felt your body rise against mine. Then, your arms were around me. Surrounded by your strength, I released what little control I had. You explored my mouth aggressively with your tongue. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Both your hands were on my shoulders. You began to push down. I fell gratefully to my knees. I smelled the leather of your belt as you worked the buckle. Jeans unzipped. Cock in my mouth. I greedily and eagerly sucked your cock. My tongue swirled around the head. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Get your gag."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I had received a dental gag in the mail the day before. You met me in the bedroom. You knelt beside me and fastened the buckle behind my head. Near my left ear I heard the steely click, click, click and the gag was opened further and further. With the gag in place, you took my throat. I love the feeling of your cock in my throat. I tightened and released my throat around your cock. I heard you moan. My saliva was coating your cock. Thick slippery gobs fell from your head. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"On the bed."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">As I rose, you roughly threw me forward onto the bed. I was bent at the hips, my torso on the bed. Saliva fell from my mouth in a puddle under my face as you entered my dripping pussy. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I felt your hips slam into me at the same time I felt your cock strike my cervix. I moaned in pleasure. Again and again, you slammed into me. My moans turned to growls. With each thrust, I clenched my pussy tighter and tighter around you. Your hand fell repeatedly across my ass as you pounded me. Faster. Faster. I could not think. Drool streamed from my gaping mouth. I remember searing pain as you continued to spank me. Each thrust of your cock brought me closer and closer to the brink. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I waited. I always wait. I don't want to cum without your command, ever. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Cum, bitch!" you growled. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I let myself fall right off the cliff. I lost myself in my orgasm, my body twitching and writhing. You fucked me so hard that I could barely stay on the bed. I felt your body tense and your cock throb as you pumped your cum into my hungry pussy. You stayed there, with your cock as far in me as it would go, for a few seconds. Then you were gone. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I slid from the bed. My knees buckled and I landed on my side on the floor. That's where you found me when you returned, exhausted, high from the depth of our passion, crumpled on the floor in a heap. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Good girl." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Thank you Sir." I whispered. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-49274688137627848152016-12-19T07:08:00.000-08:002016-12-19T07:08:54.890-08:00Poetry from darker times<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">As a preface to this: I wrote these poems late one night after getting into a horrible fight with a loved one. It was a very dark time in my life. I am not there anymore. I hope that in allowing people to see the darkness that I have escaped that they might have hope.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"></span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">
1</span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">my life is fucked beyond all reason</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">like a man in his twenties who is losing his hair</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">the sex appeal dies early</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">all that is left is a sea of pale smooth skin</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">glistening by the light of the moon</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">2</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">orgasm</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">such a sinful word</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">or-gasm</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">as though you had a choice</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">get on with it girl</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">they are waiting for you</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">3</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">i met a man once </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">whose eyes were full of promises,</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">kisses, dreams,</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">all the things for which a girl creams</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">but he was no different</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">the dreams were lies and </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">the kisses screams</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">tear my heart out baby</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">without you it is dead</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">but it was dead anyway</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">4</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">tears kiss me sweetly</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">my eyes my face</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">streaming with joy or pain</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">screaming the same</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">the world is a dull dull grey</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">full of digust no play</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">kiss me darling</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">kiss me sweetly</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">for tomorrow brings nothing but the same</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">5</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">harness</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">rock</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">penis</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">break</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">scream</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">die softly</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">bleed</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">slowly dissolve into the soil</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">flesh to dirt</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">blood to water</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">just the same</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">no different than any other</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">6</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">cliché</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">that same hackneyed phrase</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">don't test me darling</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">i know your name</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">you cry you preen</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">your skeleton shines in the </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">moonlight gleam</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">you are empty i say</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">but your face only smiles</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">cliché</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">eyes empty like pits</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">get away from me with your dreary kiss</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">take your grin </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">take it away </span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I say</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">there is no room in my life </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">for such a cliché as</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">once upon a time</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">7</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">fortune favors the prepared</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">what about the rest of us poor fucks</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">what about the meuling creeping public</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">what about the worthless self-saboteurs </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">we get to die in our own shit</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">with no dignity and no choice</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">your laughter is cheap and hollow now</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">your voice it merely stings</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">my heart is in a ruin love</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">beside all of our things</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">what use to plan a life</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">when fate you can't predict</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">to hell with human nature</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">that is what truly reeks</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">you cannot know yourself until </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">you have truly seen your darkness</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">your filth</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">your smut</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">disgusting sour putrefying shit at the bottom of your soul</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">that filthy tar baby that sucks you in</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">smothering you and all the light that is left</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">as the filth closes over your head</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">you gasp your last breath</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">the tar flows around you now</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">in you</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">the ghastly taste is in your mouth</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">creeping down your throat</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">you can feel your life receding from its onslaught</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">8</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">there are different types of darkness</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">the mother's womb quiet and safe</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">the blackness of lace at a funeral</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">dusty and cloying</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">and the blackness of death</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">destroying decaying</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">taking all that was precious and turning it to dust</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">no matter how you hide in the light</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">darkness will find you</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">what is light without its antithesis </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">but for the sunlight streaming in your window</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">you couldn't see the dust</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">the fragments of your life</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">no fallen apart and dying at your feet</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">you may try to hide your face</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">but the sickening smell creeps into your nostrils</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">it tears your heart and rends your mind</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">separating</span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> you from all your kind</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">your pain a stain upon a fresh cotton cloth</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">no washing will remove</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">just as your blood burns your heart</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">leaving an eternal scar</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">an altar to those you lost</span></div>
Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-60655354008251142722016-12-18T21:31:00.000-08:002016-12-18T21:31:54.488-08:00Hold me so tightly that it hurts<span style="font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;">It feels like someone staring at the back of your head, that feeling you get when you just know that you are being watched. Just a little bit of tension in the shoulders. The hairs stand up on the back of your neck. You feel the need to whip around suddenly, but the idea scares you. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">That is how I feel. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">It's just a little too familiar. It's too similar to the past. It's setting me on edge. </span><span style="font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;">Depression is wrapping its shroud around me, lulling me into pitiful despair. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;">He said it today... or maybe it was yesterday, <b>"You need to talk to your doctor. It seems like you are getting worse."</b> My heart sank. I have been trying to not see it for weeks now. He is so patient, so understanding, so much kinder than I feel like I deserve. He doesn't get upset when my moods keep me from helping around the house, or when I have surprise anxiety attacks, or sudden anger... when my words turn to shards dripping poison. I get a gentle reminder, a firm hand on my arm, a whisper in my ear. "I should spank you for this." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;">I feel like my discipline is fading. I feel like I am losing my purpose: to serve my Master with everything that I am. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;">It's a difficult line for him to walk, trying to protect my mental health and still provide the discipline and structure that I crave. I don't know if there is a right way. I don't know how to deal with my fragile emotional state. All that I know is that I want his hands on me. I want him to take me. I want to be his plaything. I want to be helpless in his arms. I want to be used for his pleasure, to satisfy those carnal cravings for fear and pain. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;">I want to serve! I was born and raised to serve! I'm so frightened that I will lose this... lose focus on something that brings me so much joy. I am beginning to feel like I'm not contributing anything... I don't know if this is just depressive chatter in my head or if it is the truth. I have never really felt that I had much to contribute... but I felt safe and secure in my slavery. I feel as though that is slipping away. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><i>Oh, Daddy. I am frightened. Your little slave girl is frightened, and disappointed in her weakness, and so desperate for you. </i></span></div>
Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-1967897299183833452016-11-29T17:27:00.002-08:002016-12-10T09:33:12.624-08:00Bipolar... Just like Earth!<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I imagine my consciousness as a ship in the middle of a huge ocean. For most people, the seas are generally calm. Not for me. All around, the sea batters the ship. Winds buffet the sails. I feel as though I am tossed thither and yon by the waves of emotion. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Thankfully, I have Master. He is my anchor. He is the person who weathers my moods. He holds me when I am laughing and crying hysterically. It's been over 6 months now. My mind is just now beginning to grasp the fact that he isn't going anywhere. Not only that, but he isn't letting ME go anywhere. To me, that's a really big deal.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Bipolar disorder frequently causes impulsive behavior. In my personal experience, this can mean that I suddenly stop valuing very important things in my life: my health, relationships, physical safety... A promise to keep me means that if I fail, he will be there to keep me from doing something stupid, reckless, or ill-advised. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">It is hard for me to express my gratitude to him without becoming very emotional (Ha!). </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i>Thank you, Daddy. You have saved my life. You have saved me from myself. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i><br /></i></span>
Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-5676267717846919602016-11-29T17:11:00.001-08:002016-11-29T19:49:25.665-08:00Worship<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">The pain went through me like a hot coal: searing, burning. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I bent over playfully and presented my ass for Master, just the way he likes. I moaned with pleasure as he ground his cock against me. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Hands on my knees, I moaned as he toyed with me. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">His hand struck my pussy. Hard. I yelped. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Again. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Again.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Again.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Cum bitch." </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I began to shake as I let the orgasm roll over me. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Again.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Again.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">My knees started to give. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Again. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Again. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Stay up bitch!"</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I shrieked. I screamed. He had no mercy. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">He commanded me to keep cumming as I struggled to stay standing. I clutched a box before me on the floor for balance. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Again.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">And again.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">And again. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">He stopped. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I fell to my knees before him. He held me tightly. My face pressed against his crotch. I could feel his erect cock through his jeans. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Good girl."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Those are my favorite words. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Good girl." </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Weak with endorphins, I sat down hard and I worshiped. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span>Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-27397970068074673942016-11-29T16:35:00.002-08:002016-11-29T19:39:41.019-08:00She laughed until she cried<b><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">She laughed until she cried... I</span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">t was a </span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">miracle</span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">.</span></b><br>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I hadn't been home for six months. (For those of you who have forgotten about my <b>disastrous</b> visit, you can check it out <a href="http://www.aseverebeauty.com/2016/05/hiroshima.html" target="_blank">here.</a>) Master told me, at the time, that I wasn't going home again without him. But still, even knowing that he would be there, I was terrified. I told my mother that I was bringing him to Thanksgiving at the beginning of October. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">We had been on the phone for about 30 minutes, gabbing, shooting the shit... Things had been relatively back to normal for a while. In my head, I was trying to get up the courage to tell her. I didn't ask.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"I'm going to bring _____ (insert Master's name here) to Thanksgiving. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">There was a pause on the line... </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Ok."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"You know we've been dating for six months..."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Oh... Well, I will be happy to buy your ticket. You will have to get _____'s."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I let it go. It went over better than I expected, really. We moved along with the conversation. I was able to relax and let out a sigh of relief. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">The next morning, I got a text message. "Dad would like to buy both of your plane tickets for y'all to come for Thanksgiving." <i>All right Dad! Way to be progressive and understanding! Wooooo!</i> (Small victories, ok?) </span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">It took me a couple of weeks to find a good deal, and I bought the tickets. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I started having nightmares. (Yes, folks... I have PTSD) Several nights a week, I would dream about fighting with my parents. These weren't little arguments. These were rage-fueled, violent arguments. I usually woke myself crying. The dreams lasted for two or three weeks. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">One day, I called my mother to catch up. Historically, we have been really close, like best friends. She was prattling on about preparing for Thanksgiving. It is a really big deal in my family: china, crystal, the whole nine yards. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"I've thought about it and ____ can stay in your room. You can stay on the fold-out bed in my office." (Remember: no vile, evil, extra sinful premarital sex going on here!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"I've actually found us an AirBnB."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Oh, ok." She sounded awkward, as though the thought of us sharing a bed made her uncomfortable. I'm sure it did. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I had a short respite, and my sleep eventually returned to normal (medically induced coma). However, the anxiety came back, during the day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I struggle with anxiety and depression as a part of my bipolar disorder. Normally, I can control the anxiety: get plenty of sleep, exercise, take a walk, something. This was crippling. Add in that I was about to start a new job, and what have you got? Dysfunction...can't get off the couch, must hide under a blanket anxiety. I tried everything: prescriptions, marijuana, alcohol, herbs... Nothing really took care of it. I tried mixing combinations of things to little avail. It kept getting worse until the night before we flew. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">That night, I didn't bother sleeping. We needed to be at the airport at 0400 anyway. I got caught up in preparations, packing, etc. I was emotional, yes. I was on-edge, yes. But I was functional. I think I was just kind of in shock.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">We arrived at my parents house around 1930. I felt as though everything happened in slow motion. My mom came out of the backdoor. I scrambled to get out of the car. All the while, information was streaming in. <i>She looks happy. She isn't hiding anything. She is glad to see me... us!</i> I could barely wrap my mind around it. I ran to her and picked her up in a bear hug. When I put her down again, Master was out of the car. She ran over to him and happily introduced herself. I felt like I was in a dream. In fact, writing this is bringing tears to my eyes. We went inside. My dad was in the livingroom. <i>He is glad to see us! </i>He stands and warmly introduces himself to Master and shakes his hand. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>IT WAS A THANKSGIVING MIRACLE.</b> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">We talked until well after my parents' bedtime. We had fun chattering and laughing like Master had always been a part of the family. My mother laughed until tears streamed down her face. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">When Master and I got to where we were staying, the dam holding back my emotions buckled. I broke down in tears of relief and anxiety and put myself right to bed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">The next day, we rose early and went to my parents' house to steal some breakfast. My mother roped me into helping her prepare the house. We laid out the tablecloths and the napkins and the napkin rings and the good silver and the crystal glasses. While we were working, my father, in a completely atypical fashion, offered to take Master on errands with him to hang out and get out of our way.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">It made me nervous, but my mother told me not to worry. So, I did my best not to. We finished setting the table, and we sat down for a minute. I felt exhausted, which led into feeling anxious. Within just a few minutes, I called Master and asked when he was going to be home. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">So, the days went on: happiness and merrymaking punctuated by anxiety that led me to hide in my room with Master at my side. My mother laughed until tears streamed down her face. Not only did my parents love him... my ENTIRE family loved him! My friends loved him! As I began to adjust, my anxiety lessened a little. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">We said goodbye to my parents the night before we flew. I cried. <b>It was the first time in years that I didn't want to leave home. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">It was the best Thanksgiving that I have ever had. </span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I'm still in shock. I can hardly believe it.</span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I'm so grateful. It really was a miracle. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I can still see her face. Her eyes were bright with smiles and laughter and wet with tears as she looked at us. </span></div>
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Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-54075380983933239962016-10-28T12:47:00.002-07:002016-10-28T13:39:41.358-07:00Cum from last night<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">... is still in my hair where he wiped it as they left me on the bed exhausted and used. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">A week or more ago Master mentioned to me that he had gotten an interesting message. (Most people, after looking over my profile, contact me... I am the sex object, but I am not the one in charge. The best way to play with me (and really the only way) is to go through Master.) The message was from a guy named Hadrix. Rather than contacting me, he wrote directly to my Master and inquired about the acquisition, care and keeping of a slave like myself. After some correspondence between the two of them, they decided to meet. I came along as an accessory.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Master asked me to wear a see-through top, but was kind enough to allow me to wear pants and boots. It was a chilly evening. I rifled through my closet. It probably took me 90 minutes to get dressed. (It's a challenge to find something that is both see-through and warm. That, and I'm terribly vain.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Right around the time that I started getting dressed, I started getting nervous. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">We met in a dimly lit restaurant, unfortunately, not dark enough for any shenanigans. Hadrix was interesting. We enjoyed conversation over our meal, some about kink, some about life in general. I had a few drinks with dinner. When we had all finished our food, Master decided (but he respected my input) that Hadrix was alright. We invited him back to our place. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">We talked about getting more alcohol on the way back, but I felt so comfortable with Hadrix that I told Master that it wasn't necessary (which is truly a credit to him, my social anxiety is formidable).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">When we got home, I stretched out luxuriously on the sofa. Hadrix and I were discussing materials for sex toys. He brought up stainless steel. I excitedly scampered across the room and presented for him my favorite toys: my Njoy pure plug and my Njoy pure wand. His eyes lit up in appreciation as I made myself comfortable on the sofa again, but Master had other plans. He stood over me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Take off your pants."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">It wasn't a suggestion. It was a command. I know better than to dawdle when Master uses that tone. My pants hurriedly thrown aside, my legs obediently spread wide, Master thrust his fingers inside me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Cum, bitch." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">My eyes rolled back in my head, and I gave my body over to the waves of pleasure. Master likes to put me through my paces for guests, show off the capabilities of his slave. Master motioned for Hadrix to take over. With hardly a lapse, there was a new set of fingers inside me. Master walked into the other room to bring out our toys. (This is the point where the whole evening became fuzzy for me, i.e. I began my descent into subspace.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Though my ongoing orgasm, I could make out fragments of conversation. Then, I heard chains. The sharp rattling of heavy chain shot through my reverie like a bullet. I know that sound. Master and I both have a set of clamps. Mine are decidedly gentler. These were not my clamps. I could tell by the sound. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Master handed the clamps to Hadrix, who weighed them in his hands with appreciation. With one hand he reached down and tweaked my right nipple, hard, rolling it between his fingers. He pulled it slightly. Pinch, followed by searing pain, pain that makes your vision strange and your mind foggy. As the pain from my right nipple began to lessen into a dull roar... Pinch.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I cried out in pain as my vision whited out. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Smack. A hand fell hard on my clit. I don't know who it was. I just remember the sting and the smart, the second blow before the pain of the first subsided, the third, the fourth... I lost count. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">(If this were a movie... we would fade to a white screen here.)</span><br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="giphy-embed" frameborder="0" height="193" src="//giphy.com/embed/Gw8HDFNEqV05O" width="480"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://giphy.com/gifs/popular-Gw8HDFNEqV05O">via GIPHY</a><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I heard the sound of voices. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Someone lifted the heavy chain from between my breasts. There was a subtle tug as a third chain was attached in the middle. Unceremoniously, my pussy was spread wide and the last clamp was applied to my clit, behind my piercing. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Get on your knees." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">In my haze, I sat up. Instinctively, I lifted the weight of the chain off my chest to alleviate the instant increase in pain. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Drop it."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I let the chain fall. I felt a tug as the chain fell, followed by a slow, but steady increase in pain from my nipples and my clit. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Crawl around the table."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Down on all fours, the chain swung with my body as I crawled. The clamp slipped from my clitoris. Without a word, I sat back on my heels and waited. Hadrix tried a couple of times to replace the clamp to no avail. He clipped it firmly to my pussy lip. The pain was surprisingly dull and subtle. I resumed my crawl. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I rounded the table once. Twice. Three times. My consciousness continued to fade. The subtle pain from my vulva had increased to an ache that I couldn't ignore. There was nothing but the pain with every motion. Move right hand. Move right leg. Move left hand. Move left leg. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Back on the couch."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">The pain subsided slightly as I laid back. But, I knew what came next. I gritted my teeth and turned my face into the back of the sofa as the clamps came off. I yelped. (Clamps hurt way worse coming off. At least the pain doesn't last.) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<a href="https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/51WfupuSqiL._SX522_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/51WfupuSqiL._SX522_.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Master brought out my dildo. (I will pause for a moment to mention that I like pretty sex toys... and I generally have expensive taste. My dildo, however, was a bargain and I have been very happy with it. If you are interested you can check it out <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01F4QYOEW/ref=oh_aui_detailpage_o08_s00?ie=UTF8&th=1" target="_blank">here.</a>) He pushed the suction cup firmly onto the top of one corner of the coffee table. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Fuck yourself. Now."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Obedient, albeit wobbly, I walked to the table, spread my legs and sat down on the dildo. The pleasure was a welcome change in the pain-induced haze, but the relief didn't last. The quicker I fucked, the more my legs began to burn. I tried supporting myself on the table to no avail. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Who told you to stop?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I struggled to lift myself up. Seeing my exhaustion, Master allowed me to rest. Granting my earlier request, he ordered me to shower. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I stood under the shower water, dazed. In fact, washing myself was a surprising amount of effort. Forget that, standing was hard. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I turned off the water and toweled off. When I opened the bathroom door, Master gave me until the count of three to be in the bed. I dropped my towel and sprinted into the bedroom. I fell into bed just as he said, "One." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Master handed me my wand and instructed me to squirt for our guest. I tried, but was unable. That has literally never happened before. "I'm dehydrated, Sir." I breathed. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Master lifted my new pussy pump out of my toybox. He placed it over my vulva and began evacuating the air. It starts with a gentle tug, quickly escalating to an ache, increasing in intensity until I cried out. Master turned to Hadrix and said, "She loves vacuum play. She is such a good whore." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">They toyed with me, slapping my tits, pulling on my pussy using the suction. The pain was exquisite...dull, with an amazing sensation of blood rushing into my clit. My pussy lips and clit began to swell, increasing my sensitivity. Master released the vacuum. He reached down and fondled my swollen lips. Smack. His hand fell on my aching pussy. I screeched in pain. Surprised by the vigor of my reaction, a small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. He struck me again. I let out a second yelp, louder this time. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"On your stomach, slave."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Master dragged me sideways across the bed. He took my pussy and Hadrix took my mouth. Everything was a haze. Master's thrusting from behind drove me farther down on Hadrix's cock. I struggled for breath. My eyes watered. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Cum. Now." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Master never raises his voice, but I am trained to pick it out. Even in my nearly complete stupor, I heard his voice. My body went rigid as the waves of pleasure washed over me. I convulsed as Master continued to pound me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Are you still sucking his cock, bitch?" </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Get back down on it." Hadrix pulled my face down hard on his cock, choking me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Don't you stop cumming or you will be in a great deal of pain."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I could hear the danger in Master's voice. I struggled to maintain my orgasm, clenching tight around Master's cock while greedily sucking Hadrix. (Pause for a moment here, if you have never considered before how difficult it is to remember to do so many things while deep in subspace. The only thoughts left are simplified. Pain. Pleasure. Breath. Fear. Now, try maintaining an orgasm, clenching, sucking and breathing, trying not to choke on your saliva and snot. Sounds tough, right?) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I started to choke, coughing hard. I heard Master suggest that we all take a break. </span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSFAyRSQMzhHUyGMImuIg6Gml7mCyj9AQiLYhH_PE5On4BzSDNkngdhUtYJi5Y4Mwnn4nxTUdpmCFUzNt1HgmGaD3JDefi0-PecXq4Ev7M_HgY3oEQekAZdNwg25zmNSPEdKRnb7kyFXd9/s1600/IMG_2688.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSFAyRSQMzhHUyGMImuIg6Gml7mCyj9AQiLYhH_PE5On4BzSDNkngdhUtYJi5Y4Mwnn4nxTUdpmCFUzNt1HgmGaD3JDefi0-PecXq4Ev7M_HgY3oEQekAZdNwg25zmNSPEdKRnb7kyFXd9/s320/IMG_2688.JPG" width="180" /></a><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Are you thirsty, little one?" </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I nodded my head. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Get in the bathroom. Head in the toilet. Have a drink."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I struggled to my feet and walked into the bathroom. I knelt, unceremoniously, before the toilet, looked over my shoulder at Master and began lapping at the water. Master walked around behind me and began fucking me again. I braced myself against the bowl to avoid hitting my head and kept drinking. </span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">When Master decided I was finished, he ordered me back to the bed. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Face up this time."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">They took turns: Hadrix in my pussy, Master in my mouth, Hadrix in my mouth, Master in my pussy. I was only vaguely aware of the short breaks while they switched. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Breathe. Orgasm. Choke. Vicious spanking. Breathe. Choke. Focus hard on cumming, trying to force whomever was in my pussy out by clenching. Breathe. Spanking. <i>Just don't stop cumming. Focus. Don't stop. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvfti4N-xU6m0c3Hd9Y_F8nxZfnYVqU1rXkhDeEO2lH-7hjI0A8tTivj4Jg06Z9st4o_gRIvNpSZG_EC0hprEl8tGyniH3HYxM-k8GGsiALC1iC4HZb-e1Hhy6UdSfca2Zvo-U7suRCzac/s1600/Image+51.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvfti4N-xU6m0c3Hd9Y_F8nxZfnYVqU1rXkhDeEO2lH-7hjI0A8tTivj4Jg06Z9st4o_gRIvNpSZG_EC0hprEl8tGyniH3HYxM-k8GGsiALC1iC4HZb-e1Hhy6UdSfca2Zvo-U7suRCzac/s320/Image+51.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I have no idea how long they went on, only that it was in the wee hours of the morning when Master decided to call it. I stroked Hadrix as Master came hard inside me. I could feel his cock throbbing inside of me. Hadrix flipped me onto my stomach and fucked my face until he came, spewing his load into my mouth. I choked again and my eyes watered. Sucking every last drop off, I opened my mouth and showed him his accomplishment. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I swallowed and collapsed on the bed. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Sleep. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Cum from last night is </span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">still in my hair where he wiped it as they left me on the bed exhausted and used.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-33683176679172275402016-10-06T17:54:00.002-07:002016-10-06T17:54:57.955-07:00Old Friends: Abandonment and Grief<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New";">Contrary
to popular belief, I am not perfect. I did something really stupid last night.
Not only did it end up causing Master’s displeasure (which devastates me), but
I’m fairly sure that I hurt the other person involved too. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New";">This
morning, when I awoke, I was still a little drunk. Last night, Master had told
me that I was a “bad girl.” That is one of the most hurtful things that he can
say to me. Don’t misunderstand. I deserved it. Master is still surprised,
sometimes, by the vehemence of some of my emotional reactions. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New";">All
I remember is sobbing and feeling awful. This morning, when I finally had an
opportunity to apply logic to my memories, I recognized the face of an old
friend, Abandonment. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New";">Abandonment
and I have spent many years together. He is tall, and dark and slender to the
point of looking skeletal. He has a hooked nose and tightly pursed lips. He
wears a long black trench coat and a black wide brimmed hat. Sometimes, I can
hear him calling my name, in a quiet voice like a whisper. If I draw near, his
call rises to a shriek that makes me press my hands to my ears. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New";">It
seems to me that Abandonment is always hiding nearby, always waiting for me. We
met when I was young, and he always comes to visit when things get rocky in my
personal life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New";">Master
said, “Bad girl,” and suddenly I could feel Abandonment walking beside me. His
dark figure giving off cold rather than heat in proximity. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New";">“You
know what this means, little cat. How can your <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Master</i>… care about someone as foolish as you, as disobedient?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New";">I
could feel the disdain dripping from his tongue and sliding slowly down my
spine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New";">“You
can always come and stay with me, little cat. I will be with you until you die
– as long as it takes,” Abandonment hissed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New";">Feeling
alone, hurt, and sadly, more than a little drunk, I took Abandonment’s open
hand. The dark familiar cold surrounded me. I was wrapped up in his spell. My
ears were full of Abandonment’s screech. When my eyes adjusted to the glooming,
I saw a small plump woman walking toward me. She was dressed like a poor
housewife from the 19<sup>th</sup> century. Her apron was smeared with flour
and her boots sorely scuffed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New";">I
ran forward to meet her, another old friend of mine. Her eyes were kind, but
desperately sad. I don’t know her true name, but I have always called her
Grief. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New";">We
didn’t need to speak, she nor I, nor could we have heard each other anyway. She
took me gently in her arms and held me tight to her bosom. My body went limp as
I lost myself in her embrace. Tears fell like rain from tired eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New";">I
don’t know how much time passed. I barely knew where I was. Experience drove me
to find and consume my sleeping pills. With the howl of Abandonment buffeting
my ears and the warmth of Grief holding me tight, my body was wracked with
sobs, but my eyes closed, and I slept. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New";">It
was disturbed sleep. I am purposely not remembering my dream. Upon opening my
eyes, I discovered that my two familiar guests had snuck away while I slept.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New";">Master
was there. He came to greet me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New";">“How
are you feeling, little one? Is everything ok?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New";">I
nodded. He sat down beside me and held me close. I felt safe and calm in his
embrace. I offered some explanation of recent events. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New";">“All
you need is a little more training. It’s not a big deal, just a part of the
learning process and the process of making you the best slave ever. Keep in
mind, I already think you are the perfect slave for me. I will never in my life
have another.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New";">You
know that I will never leave you. You are <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">mine</i>
and I will <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">not</i> let you go. It doesn’t
matter what you do. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you are the one
for me. No doubt at all. Do you hear me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New";">He
bent his head and lifted my chin, so that our eyes met. He gently pressed his
mouth over mine and whispered, “I love you.”<span style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-14477239289863587962016-10-01T15:47:00.001-07:002016-10-01T15:47:58.403-07:00Writer's Block and Breaking Free<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I have to begin writing again. But, I don't feel like I have that much to say. I'm sure that it's just because I haven't been writing regularly... and if I don't make a point of recognising them, all the interesting moments of my life simply fade into a sea of homogeneous experience. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I'm jetlagged. Master and I just got back from Barcelona. We spent 5 days there with his family. This was a new experience for me... I've never been invited on someone else's family vacation. But, these people feel like my family too and it was good to spend the time with them. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">They tell you that if you don't know what to write just keep writing and finally something will come to you. I'm not sure how I feel about that. Well, I haven't had much luck yet. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I have, however, started on a new venture. I posted a picture a few days ago. The caption gave people the opportunity to make photo requests of me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Honestly, I don't know what to tell you kids. I want to entertain you with my literative brilliance... But I'm at a loss. I could tell you about how I have confirmed my dislike of Picasso, how I have missed Master's cuddles while we have been traveling, how I'm concerned that his brother might suffer from depression... You tell me. Are those things that you want to hear about? Do you want to hear about the mundane ins and outs of my life? I could tell you about my job search... Normally, I try to keep this blog to really juicy kinky things. Do you want to hear about my real life? Please let me know. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">___________________________________________</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Well, it's been a week since I started this post. I have been really struggling with my anxiety, and I don't think that there is a single force that is more deadly to my creativity. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Master and I have continued to travel. I am currently in Indianapolis (for business). I am supposed to be attending a conference. I went for the first 2 full days. Yesterday, I just couldn't take it anymore. I was anxious and depressed. I felt completely overwhelmed by the amount of information that was being thrown my way. So, Master and I went back to our AirBNB and took the rest of the day off. The conference goes on for another full day, but we slept in and have spent a lazy day in bed. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Yep. That means sex. For sure. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">It has been interesting for me to watch the progression of my slave training. Master has been very gentle of late because of my emotional lack of fortitude. However, looking back over the past 5 months, I am seeing changes. It is amazing how pliable I am in his hands. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">I am a strange combination between dependence and fierce independence. When I met Master, I would have vehemently denied that I was willing to be a slave. I considered myself a submissive. It wounded my pride to be called a slave. How quickly that changed... I found that within just a few days, I was willing to serve Master in whatever capacity he desired. I look back at it, now... A part of my personality that I considered so vital to "being me" melted away like snow before his heat. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">I have learned to love it when he slaps my clit. The first time, I thought it was one of the more painful things that I had ever experienced. He ordered me to keep my legs apart. I struggled and fought to keep my legs open, but every fiber of my being, all of my instincts, reflexes, screamed for my legs to close. I had to physically hold my ankles because I couldn't do it any other way. I cried, bitterly, from the pain. It was agony. Truly. Today, he did it again. Brought his hand down, stinging, on my clit. I happily exposed my pussy for his repeated strikes. Rather than agony, I writhed in ecstasy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">"Cum for me, bitch."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">God, those words are so erotic. I allowed the waves of orgasm to overtake me. I panted and moaned as his hand continued to fall on my swollen and aroused clit. Harder and harder it fell. Each sting was stronger than the last. I grabbed my ankle to steady my legs and lost myself in orgasmic bliss. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">He knelt over me. He pulled at the waistband of his underwear. His fully erect cock sprang out toward my eager mouth. <i>Side note here: I LOVE sucking cock. Love it. It is one of my favorite ways to tell Master that I love him. </i>I took his throbbing cock in my mouth, gently passing my tongue around his head, while listening to his breathing become ragged with pleasure. He grabbed me by the hair and gently thrust his cock into my mouth. In and out. In and out. I relaxed under his control, and he guided my head. My tongue (secret weapon) swirled around him as he used my mouth. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">My jaw began to ache. <i>I have TMJ and when I am anxious, it gets worse because I clench. </i>Master was so gentle with me. I turned my head away and expressed my discomfort. Rather than the brutal punishement that I would normally receive, he pulled away. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">He moved down the bed and informed me that I no longer needed my pants. I laid on my back and pulled my knees toward my shoulders. We locked eyes as he eased into me. He thrust into me, harder and harder. I felt him slamming against my cervix. He commanded me to cum. He continued to pound me. Suddenly, he stopped and flipped me onto my face. He threw a pillow beneath my hips and entered me from behind. <i>I love when Master mounts me. It makes me feel so completely owned.</i> With my hips supported, I could feel his cock driving into the muscle wall of my abdomen. It is one of my favorite sensations. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">He turned me onto my back again. My ankles were on his shoulders. I love this position because it allows me to direct his cock straight at my g-spot. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">"Cum harder."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">I clenched down hard on his cock. I pushed him out. I felt the warm wetness of my squirt dripping down my hungry cunt. He plunged in again. I pushed him out. More of my wetness coated his cock. He thrust in again. I tried to drive him out, clenching my pelvic muscles like I was trying to crush his cock. We fought like this, strength against strength, sweat coursing over our bodies. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">He withdrew quickly. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">"Take it, bitch."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">I opened my mouth, and he came hard. Shooting his load into my hair, all over my face, and into my waiting mouth. I could feel the cum dripping down my scalp. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">With a charming smile, he helped me up and we went into the bathroom to shower. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">We leave Indianapolis on Monday. We are flying directly to Fort Collins to spend time with one of Master's best friends. It should be an amazing time. Really, all time I spend with him is amazing. I'm addicted to this man. I can't get enough. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">In spite of all the depression and anxiety, the unexpected twists and turns of life... Life is good. Life is really good. </span>Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-31192461508487157192016-09-07T18:08:00.000-07:002016-09-07T18:24:17.002-07:00Birthday Bash!<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">And by that I do mean that I got a birthday ass whooping. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Though I know it probably isn't obvious from my internet presence (the exhibitionism and all that), I am actually an introvert. I'm not the kind of girl who throws parties, especially for myself. However, since I met Master, things are changing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">In completely atypical fashion, I decided to throw a birthday party for myself. <i>Who is this girl, really? Who is she... and what happened to me? </i>Master collared me at the same time that we decided to enter the kink scene where we live. Over the past four months, we have met a lot of people. We have made friends (something that is generally so hard for me to do... But with him, I'm so much braver). I made a list of many of the friends that we have made... some of them close friends, some just acquaintances. I contacted them. <i>What the fuck are you doing!!????!</i> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Not only did I invite people I didn't know well, I invited them to my house, without everything planned out, without worrying if they would get along. Gone was my social anxiety, gone was my compulsive perfectionism. I was agog.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">But, I did it. I invited something like 15 people. I let people bring guests that I had never met. For this, <b>I have all of you to thank.</b> This community has shown me a different side of humanity. I never expected to find acceptance like I have here, and I find that I have less and less fear of what people think of me. Truthfully, the love and encouragement that I have gotten from all of you has made a really amazing difference in my estimation of myself (and copious loves from my AMAZING Master). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Oh goodness, there are so many things that I want to talk to you all about. This post might be nearly eternal. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Anyway, I was talking with my therapist today (Yes, I have a therapist) about what this coming out/transformation has been like. Growing up like I did, in such a conservative fashion, caused/necessitated the suppression of part of my personality (the kinky part). She was discussing the dramatic shift in my general happiness and well-being since I decided to pursue kink and how repressing a part of a personality can lead to mental illness. <b>I AM BIPOLAR! Ahem...</b>ahem, and I suffer from chronic depression. I have survived suicidal ideation. <b>I am... the girl who lived!</b> Sorry... too dramatic. She told me that I am actually one of the most marked cases that she has seen. Being true to myself was the single most transformative decision that I have made, in my life. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Sorry about that folks, I got sidetracked. I was telling you about my birthday. In the end, there were eight that showed up bringing the final head count to ten.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Libations flowed freely. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">... I must interrupt this regularly scheduled broadcast, again, to tell you that I purchased hiking boots for my dog. I just put all four of them on her... and I'm about to piss myself I'm laughing so hard. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">... Now, back to your regularly scheduled programming.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">We had quite a cast of characters present, one of whom was completely vanilla. So, we feasted on his kink virginity in lieu of cake. I don't think he minded... not one bit.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIavpUcB90lgEM65g5AAPw99hNmwYUHQ9R_7ahErpvNjhN0t4Vz13VaVyQ4DrjIV_b2bVsw2F1FQurIMjT4a4zlcsJt3gkmJWLog62rWqctozZhxeRMarZ-o5e8E9KFmfgAHrJCs3d5ked/s1600/Image+36.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIavpUcB90lgEM65g5AAPw99hNmwYUHQ9R_7ahErpvNjhN0t4Vz13VaVyQ4DrjIV_b2bVsw2F1FQurIMjT4a4zlcsJt3gkmJWLog62rWqctozZhxeRMarZ-o5e8E9KFmfgAHrJCs3d5ked/s320/Image+36.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">The evening began with some good, old-fashioned fire play. Isopropyl + matches = FUN! This was when my clothes started coming off. Because who doesn't want to be sensually lit on fire!? I wish it were easy to describe the sensation. It feels warm, bordering on hot. Just before your skin starts to burn, the alcohol is gone and the fire goes out. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSe72R6pGiT5rpzU1UBXloPqAOc4vnKg8CrDlpz36hhsrIcrsqjMXOjt1zAPCmkegZ7agdThqsI8JMFYng15bGdZfyybnSuE4pSFGLeH8HdyFaXZsEK2ArhUrmPWrRNtBgHQRCvpaUAXfi/s1600/Image+37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSe72R6pGiT5rpzU1UBXloPqAOc4vnKg8CrDlpz36hhsrIcrsqjMXOjt1zAPCmkegZ7agdThqsI8JMFYng15bGdZfyybnSuE4pSFGLeH8HdyFaXZsEK2ArhUrmPWrRNtBgHQRCvpaUAXfi/s320/Image+37.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">We also got to play with a little fire cupping. Pretty neat. <i>Yes, yes... those are my household glasses. We improvised.</i> This creates a vacuum beneath the glass and feels a little like being massaged from inside. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">From there, my multi-talented friend provided a shibari demonstration (on yours truly, of course). I have been interested in working with rope for quite a long time. I have always fantasized about being tied up and helpless. So, this was a really enjoyable experience for me. One of these days, Master and I (we finally got our own rope!) are going to learn a little tying. I can't wait. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFvumBWZNQkfs_MlSy16OGoE4cqEOZq8jxRPVM_KmmOPbkt91O289FGdngtFxXwR6EdxCJCuG7ehDuebNi6VEh4LefJ30rVJ4GX57XwUHivD-x6wM4etQSnNI0kqB42yJWMuxG884-hZ4a/s1600/FullSizeRender+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFvumBWZNQkfs_MlSy16OGoE4cqEOZq8jxRPVM_KmmOPbkt91O289FGdngtFxXwR6EdxCJCuG7ehDuebNi6VEh4LefJ30rVJ4GX57XwUHivD-x6wM4etQSnNI0kqB42yJWMuxG884-hZ4a/s320/FullSizeRender+2.jpg" width="249" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Pretty fucking awesome, right!? Oh my goodness, I want to do more of this. I'll just have to figure out how to bribe him to do it... ;) I want to fly (that is, to do rope suspension). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I felt totally gorgeous in the ropes. The ties fit all my curves and were tight like a glove. There was a moment where he grasped the back of the tie and lifted me... I slumped forward like a ragdoll hanging from his grasp. Thinking about it still gives me shivers. <i>More, please!?</i> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Then, there were birthday spankings. By that I mean, all of the guests held me down and smacked my ass until I was screeching. It wasn't anywhere near my age. In fact, Master deliberately didn't count. I have no idea how long they held me. I just remember short silences punctuated with a sharp crack as a hand fell upon my ass, followed by the screech that left my mouth of its own accord. I busied myself with trying to figure out who was about to hit me... and then threaten to kill them by name. I think I did quite well. It kept me from totally losing it, crying, etc. In addition to the increasingly aggressive threats, the primal growls and shrieks... I fucking fought like hell. I kicked and I bit and I scratched (much to everyone's amusement, I think. I was WAY out-numbered). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">It gives the concept of friendship to a whole new level when you allow your friends to bare-handed spank your ass until it's beet red and bleeding, hop up when it's over and get back to having an amazing time (not that I ever stopped). </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu4s7EX6s4ExmM6DIaZpcSI8_XqxEo1lfilro853jBF0bdU6r4un6MRr6J75hUP27uoStnz_nBdLkdxf0gGI0WVyBiL6INXk8lmT2oZg-m2oSAGcxDKF2lXk5rLKl5bkMdl7t0e4zzkMFS/s1600/FullSizeRender+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu4s7EX6s4ExmM6DIaZpcSI8_XqxEo1lfilro853jBF0bdU6r4un6MRr6J75hUP27uoStnz_nBdLkdxf0gGI0WVyBiL6INXk8lmT2oZg-m2oSAGcxDKF2lXk5rLKl5bkMdl7t0e4zzkMFS/s400/FullSizeRender+3.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I would like you to notice the GLORIOUS handprints on my ass. I mean, you can see all the digits outlined. Look!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Jesus Fucking Christ! That stung like a mother fucker. The rest of the night, sitting down was an adventure. :-) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">When things seemed to quiet down for a little bit. Master brought out a new game that we had bought, called Over the Line. It's something like a combination between pictionary and charades with really, really horrible/heinous/racist/disgusting/WTF prompts like: Jew fro, rape van, plumber butt, bone a sheep... I could go on forever. If you, dear reader, are a fucked up person like myself, I HIGHLY recommend it. You can find it on Amazon <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Over-Line-Combinaton-Charades-Pictionary/dp/B0147LN0L8/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1473295273&sr=8-1&keywords=over+the+line" target="_blank">here.</a> We hadn't had the opportunity to play before. It really is best with a larger group of people. OH MY GOD, it was amazing. We had a fantastic time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">While the game was going, I curled up between my Master and my rope friend. (He has been dying to fuck me for a while, and GOD, I just love tormenting him. I'm sure that the time will come eventually and Master will let us play.) So I snuggled up, naked, and made myself at home. You know, a little petting, excessive physical contact... I love being a bad girl. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Meanwhile, a few of my guests had gotten a little frisky. I had to provide a few absorbent pads to protect my rug from all the squirt! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">We kept talking and playing until just before sunrise. I couldn't have imagined a more satisfying birthday party. Thank you to all who attended!! I love you all!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">P.S. Here is what my ass looked like the <b>next day</b>: </span><br />
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<span style="clear: left; float: left; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvY1txovQqjdxeAo68o2ynAbJKrPxVDVW-AaG78TmI9Y9lJtKAchpor5JzcvLBRcOKDT8vMu2JN7NlbOge9HyjxrqJrNEbuGrT8xoMdhhrqEfILqpRpMqJUYHxbWuKy9uIvWz0Oryp4BHC/s320/FullSizeRender+4.jpg" width="240" /> and the <b>day after that</b>: </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8aiIzOYwBscRiK3sqDjvX80h__1zgWmiul9Soo73Bg4CQDzTY6dA5iqCzf0nPSqAmltH5U1CBCe_E0buyBjfutjGgWU4PmptZxNhy7kQ0uamVNsVm97mY3LkS6dqx8yjl9CvMtmfWkCsF/s320/IMG_2379.JPG" width="184" /> and the <b>day after that</b>:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4c9bw-yVYo6FuYuM3d2mrWTZb_COKImDw5wrF6MxVgvcWqVgweCkTpE1ZiZvFdbfbOQeWaj-4MVsMvoPuBRWYQej6U3WKjEdMmy-PLnnq3wo0DfSWTWRRJuYcAgWtYrtDX4kMPtEq7BVi/s1600/FullSizeRender+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4c9bw-yVYo6FuYuM3d2mrWTZb_COKImDw5wrF6MxVgvcWqVgweCkTpE1ZiZvFdbfbOQeWaj-4MVsMvoPuBRWYQej6U3WKjEdMmy-PLnnq3wo0DfSWTWRRJuYcAgWtYrtDX4kMPtEq7BVi/s320/FullSizeRender+5.jpg" width="272" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"></span>Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-28807556992786618522016-09-02T19:42:00.001-07:002016-09-02T19:42:44.749-07:00Delinquence, Friends, Photos and More<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I've been so delinquent that I don't even know where to start. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I don't know if I should catch you all up, or if I should just gloss over the time that I have been AWOL. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Master and I did a photoshoot with a painter who wants to paint us. That was fun and really exciting. He said that he will start working on the painting in November. Then we shot a couple of times with a friend of ours, EroticLens. The second shoot was girl-girl... I hadn't really done much like that before. It was fun. I've been posting the pictures and getting really positive responses. </span></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJhP-a9ky6bX52ceEV1cxl3Hi5YQBNIkX7WrLWhk_Q71ibUOO8FAjPxuEe9VnZxzbVPXHlAPDBC0HZrP0FqqO8KShARKz93Sojt2zLgXfdghO1ANUjS2yVeZAKRM_o4dd3VULz6hpJVBCf/" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" id="id_66df_3231_a86e_2f35" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJhP-a9ky6bX52ceEV1cxl3Hi5YQBNIkX7WrLWhk_Q71ibUOO8FAjPxuEe9VnZxzbVPXHlAPDBC0HZrP0FqqO8KShARKz93Sojt2zLgXfdghO1ANUjS2yVeZAKRM_o4dd3VULz6hpJVBCf/" style="display: block; height: auto; margin-top: 4px; width: 265px;" title="" tooltip="" width="265" /></a><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">In fact, I'm rather taken aback by the response that I have gotten to my internet presence. I have never received anything like this attention before. There are actually people who follow my writing, who consistently return to check my profile for updates. I'm delighted and so flattered. So, thank you all very much!! </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">So, we did a short notice shoot in my bedroom with EroticLens... It was really fun. I felt so comfortable in that environment. He took pictures of me masturbating and playing with various toys. My Master got involved and started fucking me. It made for some amazing pictures. EL got to come on my ass when he was ready. I think it was a big hit. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">A dear friend of mine came to visit me. She stayed for about a week. She is a budding Domme and is working hard to find her place in the kink and vanilla communities alike. We will call her Maggie for our purposes here (short for magnanimous, of course!). Master and I did our best to show her what is out there for her to experience, but it turned out to be harder than we expected. It is so easy to forget, now that I have gotten plugged into the kinky community here, what it is like on the outside. It was really hard for me to see her fear and uncertainty about who she is... when embracing it will help to make her whole. I didn't realize how much she had to learn about herself. I sincerely hope that she was able to benefit from her visit and learn from some of our experiences together. One of which.... </span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9o9giEanWgO1pWimXjBSjNBBRoIMEOVUdmG6s7WgyzYeSUDA3mhL_dRM0DqaNKmsl-wmhGUoOcHi03TddywReVsYis_HRPcza-T4Dj5Z2HsRYgDbuThYaot1XRS6sSKeGvlq9aZNlD7Pd/" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" id="id_d2e7_1b33_a038_472d" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9o9giEanWgO1pWimXjBSjNBBRoIMEOVUdmG6s7WgyzYeSUDA3mhL_dRM0DqaNKmsl-wmhGUoOcHi03TddywReVsYis_HRPcza-T4Dj5Z2HsRYgDbuThYaot1XRS6sSKeGvlq9aZNlD7Pd/" style="height: auto; width: 353px;" title="" tooltip="" /></a><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Was a photoshoot. Yeah! Guys and girls! This was my first girl-girl photoshoot. It was fun... and difficult. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I remember when I was self-conscious. It so hard to see one of of my dear friends in that position. So quickly, I had forgotten about the emotional pain, the unease, the horrible anxiety. It was hardly fair for me to expect her to magically become as open and comfortable as I am. And magically, she wasn't. At the time, it felt like I was trying to pull teeth to get her to relax... now that I think back on it, I was trying to undo years of repression in, what, an hour?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">Master and I had taken Maggie to a "candy shop" earlier in her visit. I tried to relax her with weed. That didn't work. Not. One. Bit. So, next I tried liquor. I poured her some rum. Straight with a couple of ice cubes. I watched and encouraged as she poured it down. About 20 minutes later, we all noticed her demeanor begin to relax. EL looked at me. I looked at him, and I jumped into the shoot. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">I had fixed my face and hair when I did Maggie's. I wasn't planning on being in the shoot... but, not knowing how it would go, I chose to embrace the Boy Scout motto, and "Be prepared!" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">I know she identifies as a dominant. The problem is, so do I. –Wait! Wait! Cat, you are a slave... aren't you?– Yes, I am. I chose to be submissive. I choose every day. But, in the rest of my life, I am the dominant personality in the majority of my relationships. In fact, I had always been the dominant in my relationship with Maggie, even though she was a dominant personality too. So, I took over. I did the unholy thing and "toppped from the bottom." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">I jumped in with both feet. In the end, we did get some good shots. I am happy to see that she appears to be having a good time in the pictures. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">What else has been going on? I lost my job? I'm going to Spain with Master and his family this month? I just had my birthday? You know, boring stuff. </span><br />
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Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-30703308105978024052016-08-13T12:54:00.000-07:002016-08-13T12:54:10.751-07:00Capes and Corsets: my first play party<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">It's been a long time, my loves. I haven't died. I promise. Life has been a little hectic of late. I will do my best to catch you up. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">The weekend of July 9th, Master and I went to our first play party. It was such an amazing night. Please forgive me, Master likes to get me drunk and I'm not sure how good my recollection is going to be. I spotted this event on Fetlife a few months back. I could barely contain my excitement. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"Capes and Corsets: Halloween in July" </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3StpOLqKEhUUl-2McKzQbymU0v3S4BqFk14S5t1wdMUfsGjHOnKkwAu_7uS_IlVKRsQFI6n-Fy56cwk7THBtgSKUekX_FYgOwnpHhqNl2Z-y42yDCpiTAIlrIklMgN5kWosppb3H13iOl/s1600/Kitty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3StpOLqKEhUUl-2McKzQbymU0v3S4BqFk14S5t1wdMUfsGjHOnKkwAu_7uS_IlVKRsQFI6n-Fy56cwk7THBtgSKUekX_FYgOwnpHhqNl2Z-y42yDCpiTAIlrIklMgN5kWosppb3H13iOl/s400/Kitty.jpg" width="225" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Not just a play party, a costume play party. Aaand, I have a thing for corsets. What is Catlytt Black going to be for halloween? A black cat... of course. C'mon guys. I have several corsets in my collection, but I wanted something... naughtier. So, I did a little shopping. A black satin underbust corset and a very very very short skirt. I had the tail and ears ready to go already. </span><br />
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Master looked completely dashing. He went as a circus ring leader. Suit and tie, top hat, red cape and a riding crop. Slay me. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I was so nervous. So so nervous. The party was located in a haunted house venue. I recently had a conversation with a friend who insisted that sexy people cannot be shy. I would have to vehemently disagree. I'm certainly becoming more outgoing as I get older, but I still have some social anxiety when I'm out in groups of people I don't know... with my tits out.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I came to the party wearing a grey satin trench coat over my costume. Even where I live, me outfit would have drawn unwanted attention. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">There is one thing that I am finding to be true pretty much across the board with openly kinky people. They are kind and accepting. It really makes it so much easier to put yourself out there. They love new people and will come up to introduce themselves. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">So, with social anxiety in full swing, we walked in. The place was huge... We walked through a little bit of the place. The setup was really neat. All the play spaces were demarcated with fluorescent marks. And the whole party was lit by blacklight. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">The next big hurdle was the coat check. I mean... my tits were going to be out in... public. You all are probably laughing at me because I have no trouble posting things online, but there is something a little different about looking people in the eye while they stare at your tits. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"You don't need that anymore," he said gently but firmly. There were no ifs ands or buts about it. So, I took off my coat. Much to my relief no one batted an eye. This was normal. <i>Oh good, this is normal</i>. Luckily, coat check came with a gin and tonic (which totally glows under blacklight!!). But, it wasn't until about halfway into my second that I suddenly realized that I was damn sexy and had no reason at all to not feel every bit a goddess. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I guess I will give you the events in vignette form... because I don't really remember much of the in between. </span></span></div>
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<li class="li1"><span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">There was a rubber band wall. I remember walking by it the first time, looking at it and thinking... <i>well that seems interesting</i>. I used to snap myself with rubber bands to stay awake in class, way back when, so I didn't think much of it. But then Master asked me to crawl underneath them. After a little bit of shuffling, I was held firmly against the wall by long strings of rubber bands. He pulled my skirt up so that my ass was in full view. (At this point, I was still quite sober... this did nothing to help my anxiety.) Snap. <i>Ouch! </i>Snap. <i>Wait a minute, that really hurts! </i>Snap. I turned to him. "That really hurts!" Snap. "Really, Sir!" Sensing my distress, which I felt creeping up the back of my neck like white, hot panic, he let me off the wall. </span></span></li>
</ul>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">For pain to be pleasurable in a sexual situation... there is a period of "warm up." It's going to hurt someone a whole lot more if the first spank is as hard as you can, than if you warm up with a few slaps first. The brain produces chemicals in response to pleasurable and painful circumstances. In my college psychology course, the professor explained to us that the brain chemicals that deal with the survival instinct are really all the same. He called them the 4 Fs. Fight, flight, feed, and... mate. The difference is in how you interpret them. Jumping straight into pain is like going zero to sixty in 2 seconds and the brain doesn't have time to catch up. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">So yeah. OUCH.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">We made quite a few new friends at the party. We met a three self-proclaimed nudists (a couple and a single) who we both thought were completely darling. We also met a Dom/rigger who is now a dear friend of mine. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">In a small room off of the food area, there was a rope/rigging demonstration going on all night. We kept returning to the area to get more drinks (for me mostly) and looked in periodically to see what was going on. I was vaguely aware of Master talking with the rigger... I was too busy being fascinated to be social. I did not find out what they had discussed until later. </span></span></div>
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<li class="li1"><span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I looked into the room. The rigger was standing back watching... He was tall, taller than my Master. He looked rather dashing, the ends of his mustache curled. I watched the ease with which the lifted the girls he tied. I blame it on evolution, but something about strength turns me on. He had two women in suspension, and they had begun eating eachother out. When they came down, he beckoned to me. I glanced at Master with apprehension and was given a nod. The rigger bent and whispered in my ear, "I need you to do a taste test for me. These ladies would like to know which of them tastes better." With Master's nod in my mind, I followed. I knelt down before the first and buried my face in her pussy. She was sweet. As my tongue flicked over her clit, I felt her move in appreciation. I moved to the next, her muff tickled my nose. Her taste was completely different... I don't know another word to use but gamey... but it wasn't bad. Just completely different. Blame my virginal tongue for missing subtleties. So, I had my first experience giving cunnilingus... in front of a crowd. Hot.</span></span></li>
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<li class="li1"><span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">We walked by a play area featuring a violet wand, behind bars, like a prison cell. There was a man tending the area who was operating the special toys. He called us inside, and I willingly entered with Master and friends by my side. There wasn't any question who was going to be on the table. Eagerly, I scrambled up and laid out flat. The wand felt like an electric tingle... a tiny sting. He moved around my body, shocking here and there, my legs held by friends and my hands held by strangers. I couldn't help but giggle. The curious sensation made me laugh. After a few minutes, he switched from violet wand to TENS unit. He placed the pads on my nipples and one on my clit. More than the violet wand, it felt like a little burst of electricity. The guy took it really easy on me... the sensation was delicious. He really only barely crossed over the line into pain.</span></span></li>
</ul>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">And then he let Master have the reigns, something to do with a hitachi. I've never used a hitachi before... it's just... wow. So much power. Master flicked the riding crop a few times on my clit. I let out a howl. That's when the crowd started to form, at least I am told. He handed Master a slapper... which Master applied directly to my clit. With every falling stroke, I let out a screech. The people holding my arms and legs had to earn their keep because I'm sure I began to struggle.</span></span></blockquote>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">At some point, the person holding my right hand became someone else. He was wearing a solid black body suit that covered his face. I only remember that he held my hand tightly. At some point during my torture, I remember turning to him and whispering a quick "Thank you, shadow," before my attention was quickly drawn back by sharp and stinging pain. </span></span></blockquote>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I have no idea how many times I came, as many times as Master commanded me. When Master was finished with me, we discovered that he had vibrated my clit piercing right out with the hitachi. He searched inside me for a minute before he found it in a fold in the table. I don't know how he did it... but he put that piercing right back in. There was applause. I didn't really appreciate how badass this was until later when I tried to put it back in myself. Those little threads are tiny, and he did it in the dark. </span></span></blockquote>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">It really was a fantastic party. Master and I were a huge hit (probably the best looking/dressed couple there.) In one of the back rooms of the party there was a Sybian and a fucking machine. We got back there just as these things were being packed up... next time. While watching the fucking machine, I was approached by the first of the girls that I had eaten. She asked Master if she could return the favor. He agreed and she sank to her knees in front of me. She smiled, looking up at me, when she saw my piercing. Her tongue slid over my clit and I let out a moan. I tilted my hips forward to ease her access. She swirled her tongue around. She felt delicious. Finished, she stood before me. I thanked her, but I didn't catch her name. I'm still kicking myself over it. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">We said our goodbyes, and Master walked me out, holding me tight against him. You can bet your ass that we fucked when we got home.</span></span></div>
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Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-24058790102561514472016-07-05T19:28:00.001-07:002016-07-05T19:28:32.724-07:00Train wrecked (I cannot resist a pun, sorry.)<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">While I was riding a train across Italy, Master tasked me
with an edging assignment. What you will read here is based upon the scenario
he presented to me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">______________________________________</span></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">The gentle sway of the train is comforting. Its low, regular
rumble comes up through my seat. I can feel the slight movement of my clit
piercing inside my jeans. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">My reverie is broken by a train stop. When the momentary
hustle fades, I get up to find the restroom. It is at the far end of the car. I
press the button to open the automatic door. Nothing happens. I hear someone
stir inside so, I sit down to wait. I can feel my pussy mildly throbbing from
the stimulation of my short walk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Finally, a woman comes out of the restroom. She shoves open
the sliding door manually, with effort, and leaves to find her seat. I pull the
door shut behind me only to find that the door doesn’t lock. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ugh, you know? I just don’t care. </i>I sit
down to pee. Finished, I stand to button my pants, and the toilet automatically
flushes behind me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I let out a gasp of surprise as a hand claps over my mouth.
I freeze. My thoughts flee in panic. I feel the cold of metal and a sharp
twinge as he draws a knife along my neck. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">In the momentary silence, I realize that we are not alone.
There is a third person, a man from the sound. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">“Shut up.
If you make noise, this will be much, much worse.”</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I feel the knife come away from my neck, and I am lifted
roughly. My arms are pinned behind me, tightly, between us. I can feel his cock
begin to swell against the back of my hand. His smell fills my nostrils. I am
wrenched around as though I weigh nothing, and I find myself face-to-face with
the second man. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I break out in a cold sweat. He is tall, finely muscled. A
nylon stocking covers his face. I can just see the flash of cold eyes underneath.
“Don’t fight, bitch,” he says as he steps toward me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">With a sinking feeling, I realize that there is no chance
that I can escape. I nod vigorously. He roughly strips my jeans away. I feel
the moisture from my cunt begin to drip down my thigh. I am angry at being
aroused. Furious. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">He briskly slaps the inside of my thigh. I feel a sting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">“Open.”</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I cannot help but comply. He drags my legs apart, so wide
that my pussy is completely open. I feel exposed. His hand violates my pussy.
My juices flow easily. He gives a chuckle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">“Look at
you! Wet like a fucking whore! You must be a pretty fucked up bitch, honey.”</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">His hand strikes with a resounding crack against my clit.
Every fiber of my being screams in agony, but before I can make a sound, he
rips off my shirt and shoves part of it firmly into my mouth. Again, and again,
and again, he strikes me. I have lost count. My head is lolling on the shoulder
of the man behind me, his fully erect cock shoved between my pinned hands. I
cannot think. I cannot resist. I bite down hard on the shirt in my mouth to
dampen my screams. I have no idea how much time has passed. My existence has
become the stinging staccato of his hand against my clit. Through the searing
pain, I feel my pulse begin to quicken, and I can feel the orgasm rising from
my toes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Suddenly, he stops. The orgasm slips away. I let out a
shuddering moan of lustful despair. I am shaking, weak, tears streaming down my
face. He wipes a tear from my eye, with a smile that doesn’t touch his eyes.
“Did you think I was going to let you cum?” His voice mocks me. He slowly
unbuckles his belt, and draws it from the belt loops. It looks beautifully
dangerous in his hands, like some kind of poisonous snake. Silently, he places
it aside and withdraws his cock.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">With a nod, the man behind me kicks my legs out from under
me, and I fall on my hands and knees. The man before me grabs me roughly by the
hair, and forces his full length into my mouth. My eyes widen as I splutter and
cough. I attempt to pull away, but he just forces me harder onto his cock. I
can feel him deep in my throat. I cannot breathe. Without warning, I feel the
man behind me grab my hips and ram his cock into my dripping cunt. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">They are talking to each other, but I cannot understand. I
gasp for air between the thrusts down my throat. I’m crying. There is snot and
drool running down my face and puddling on the bathroom floor. They seem to
coordinate their efforts so that they each slam into me at the same time. I
feel my back flex under the force. Over, and over, and over, and over, and over
they thrust. My arms give out, and I fall into the puddle of my drool, snot,
and tears.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">For a moment, I feel no one touching me. My pussy aches. My
abdomen is wracked with passion cramps. Then, there is a hand in my hair
dragging me upward. A hand cups my pussy and lifts me from the floor. When they
put me down again, I am straddling one of them. I cannot tell them apart
anymore. He drags my hips toward him, and I feel his cock stabbing upward
inside me. Someone pinches my nose. As I open my mouth to breathe, my throat is
filled with another cock. This one is slimy and dripping with my juices.
Somewhere in the back of my head, I recognize the taste. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">They continue to ravage me. Without warning, an orgasm hits
me like a tidal wave. I am struck, sharply, across the face. “Did I say that
you could cum!?” I try to shake my head no, but my head is held firmly. I choke
out something, it might have sounded like a “no,” but I doubt it. I recognize the
voice. I look up and see, through blurry eyes, that it is my Master fucking my
face. I have no time to feel relief, because another orgasm takes me. The world
turns grey, and I slump down, unconscious. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I am awakened by the sting of the belt across my ass. I
haven’t been moved. The man beneath me continues to obliterate my pussy. I
moan, because it is the only sound that I can make. The belt stripes my flesh
several times. It stops, and I feel a cool liquid dribbling into my ass crack,
running past my asshole and dripping off my pussy. I feel the warmth of his
cock against my asshole. He swirls it around once, twice, and then slowly
begins forcing his way into my ass. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">The man beneath me rhythmically pounds my pussy as my
asshole is stretched wider and wider by the invading cock. I moan, unable to
stop myself. He continues in, deeper, and then slowly takes up a rhythm. Each
thrust takes him deeper into my ass. If I could think, or speak, I might
scream, but I am unable. There is nothing but the utter, mind-blowing sensation
of fullness. As the tempo of the ass-fucking picks up, I become nauseated. He
continues to pound my ass harder. Faster. Harder. Faster. With one final
thrust, he forces himself completely inside of me. I feel his body contract,
and his cock pump cum forcefully into my ass. The man slides out from under me.
I am facedown in my puddle, as before. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I feel my ass cheeks being spread wide. He takes my ass,
again, and again. My face is pressed firmly into the floor, my saliva mixing
with the urine and dirt and smearing over my cheeks. I feel another convulsion
and another squirt of cum into my ass. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Then, there was nothing. I am left on the floor, my ass
sticking high into the air, my asshole gaping open. Copious amounts of cum run
down my crack and drip from my pussy. I hear congratulatory laughter and the
click of a camera shutter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--EndFragment--><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Something warm is folded around me. My Master lifts me
gently. He holds me against his chest. I can feel his heart beat. “I am so
proud of you, little one,” he says as my consciousness fades. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-22393517546832628232016-07-04T15:34:00.000-07:002016-07-04T15:37:05.245-07:00Submission from across the globe, Part 2<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">“When you get up,
beautiful slave, you will pee on the floor of the bathroom. Send me a picture.
Then, clean the floor with your tongue. I want to see a second picture of a
sparkling clean floor. <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Master told me that he would not make me drink piss until I
got home from Italy. But, he thought I was ready. “Yes, Sir” I said as I closed
my eyes in sleep. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I woke early the following morning. The bright sun was
streaming in my window and falling across the bed. A rooster crowed. I laid
sleepily in bed. I checked Fetlife for updates. I responded to a few messages.
I crept out of bed, taking my phone with me. My pajama pants swished around my
ankles as I stepped up into the bathroom. I stood there, looking at the floor,
trying to get up the courage to do as I was told.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">The first task was not so difficult. I removed my pants and
top and laid them across the toilet, which I would not be using. I removed the
rug from the bathroom floor. I squatted beside the toilet and peed. I angled my
hips to keep the piss from running <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>all
over the floor. I moved my foot away from a wayward drip. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">The urine felt warm as it left my body and splattered on the
floor between my feet. The widening yellow puddle was daunting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ICEb2g5LUcqjjuN-b1bj7CFc7YukhBPwPrXtObzTnxJbC6qIwA-SmpA02tOrKEHwVr8MaXNFvphStAhJRj5gdeOi9trusqk6HPdT0j83IjQ_JHtAoGCMBp_7Q1qyga2tKYO3M45VNZIc/s1600/IMG_1636.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ICEb2g5LUcqjjuN-b1bj7CFc7YukhBPwPrXtObzTnxJbC6qIwA-SmpA02tOrKEHwVr8MaXNFvphStAhJRj5gdeOi9trusqk6HPdT0j83IjQ_JHtAoGCMBp_7Q1qyga2tKYO3M45VNZIc/s320/IMG_1636.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">When I was finished, I stood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stared at the vast sea of yellow that was
my little puddle. I took a deep breath. I knelt. I could smell it. I fought
back my disgust as I extended my tongue, leaned down, and licked the floor. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">UGH! </i>The taste was
salty and bitter. My revulsion, or maybe it was the taste, got the better of
me. I gagged. I gagged again. I bent over to lick again… I smelled the smell. I
couldn’t do it. I waited a minute to regain my courage. I bent down, my face
close to the floor… <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Nope.</i> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Nope. I can’t do this. Oh god, I can’t do
this. What if Naomi hears me gagging? </i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I tore a sheet of toilet paper. With relief and
disappointment, I laid the sheets in little rows across my yellow puddle. It
took many, many more than I expected to clean the floor. By the time it was
done, I had piss all over my hands. I dried the floor and replaced the rug. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">“I couldn’t do it, Sir,” I texted when I got back to my
room. I offered my pitiful excuse.<br /> </span><o:p><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">“You know that it is in your best interest to do as I say,
little bitch? The consequences of your disobedience will be much, MUCH worse
than the original task. Do you understand?”</span><o:p><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">“Yes, Sir.”</span><o:p><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">“I had hoped that you could handle this, little one. We will
have to try again when you are home. I will be there by your side.”</span><o:p><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">“Yes, Sir. I did try, Sir!”</span><o:p><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">“I am proud of you for trying, but I WILL make you into a
filthy piss-drinking whore. Get used to the idea.”</span><o:p><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span></o:p></blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I felt the disappointment rise inside of me… much like the
bile had a few minutes earlier. I almost wished there were still piss on the
floor in the bathroom, so that I could try again. I hate to disappoint Master.
Tears came, unbidden, to my eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">_________________________________________________</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">“You will throw away
all of your panties that you brought with you on this trip, right now.”</b> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Well, that sounds
extreme. Underwear are expensive! Surely, he cannot be serious.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">“You mean that I cannot bring them home with me, Sir?”</span><o:p><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">“Of course that is what I mean! In the future, you will do
better to grovel and beg. Because you dared to question such a simple task, you
will go into the bathroom, piss, and then dunk your head into the bowl filled
with your piss and flush. I want to see a picture of your head and face
dripping.”</span></blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I gathered my underwear from my suitcase and shoved them
into a spare shopping bag. I took them into the bathroom and placed them, a
little wistfully, beside the tiny trashcan, like an offering. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I removed my clothes and sat heavily on the toilet. I heard
my urine splashing into the bowl below. I wiped the last drop from my pussy. I
turned and knelt before the porcelain throne. I took my phone in my hand and
positioned it so that I could snap the requisite picture AND flush the toilet.
I dipped my head. As I flushed, the water rushed around the bowl splashing piss
into my face and hair. I took the picture. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I also took a picture of the toilet bowl. The water level
was is so low in Italian toilets that I had not been able to fully wet my head.
It was my thought to send this to him in explanation. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I stepped into the shower, piss-water running down my body.
As I washed my hair, I immediately felt less grotesque. But, even in my
disgust, I felt a certain pride. I felt accomplished. I had completed my task. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">When I got out of the shower, I sent Master the pictures
along with my explanation. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">“Good girl for completing your task, little one. However, in
the future, I that if you are unable to complete a task as I have asked, you
will do your best to accomplish what I intended. You are a very bright woman.
You should have used your hands to bathe your face and head in your piss. Next
time, you will do better. “<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
_______________________________________________________</div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">“Send me a picture of
your dinner… I would like you to cut everything into bite-sized pieces. You
will take your dinner completely naked, and on your knees, from a dish on the
floor. Don’t forget a bowl of water. From now on, precious slave, you will take
your dinner in this fashion whenever you are at home.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">My poor traveling companion, bless her little heart. I can
only imagine how weird this must have been for her. I did my best to make
things easier on her, but I doubt that I succeeded terribly well. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">We sat down to a dinner of fruit, cheese, cured meats, and
bread. While she ate, I cut my food into little pieces. When I was finished, I
informed her that I had an order which required that I eat alone. I picked up
my plate and left. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I was feeling particularly ambitious. The light was fading
fast… but I wanted to accomplish my task… outside. The house was situated in
such a beautiful area with lush fruit trees and bushes all around. I found a
place, I knelt to try to situate my camera, and… I heard voices. Disappointed,
I set my meal outside of our room, and went to Naomi for the keys. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Still hoping to get a nice view behind me in the pictures, I
opened the French doors wide onto the balcony. I allowed my dress to slip from
my frame and puddle on the floor. I arranged my dish of food and water bowl,
turned on the camera, and began to eat.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh71tkP9OEqvRlk12FyzMIU94f2Cc8If-Z3D49AdKpBzPdh3KvpI3LeYMKC273XzAvRAyb5XcuiMtTCLFYPdTjvtMbOHjRhnE53pMzwP3fnE6clGLQbP9pd2Q-qniXr6baME4ksLp2Pj1QW/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh71tkP9OEqvRlk12FyzMIU94f2Cc8If-Z3D49AdKpBzPdh3KvpI3LeYMKC273XzAvRAyb5XcuiMtTCLFYPdTjvtMbOHjRhnE53pMzwP3fnE6clGLQbP9pd2Q-qniXr6baME4ksLp2Pj1QW/s320/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="179" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">At first, I was acutely aware of the food touching my face. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Humans don’t have a long snout, you know…
That is why we have hands. </i>But, I cast off my dignity like a dirty shirt
and dug in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>About halfway through the
meal, I was surprised by my inner animal. I grabbed a piece of salami and
wolfed it down, much like a dog. It was surprisingly satisfying. Really
satisfying. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">When finished, I sent the pictures to Master and received
the highest praise and accolade. It makes me feel so wonderful (like a
princess) when he approves of my efforts. At his behest, I posted the pictures
to my account on Fetlife. Master wanted the rest of the world to see my
dehumanization and applaud. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: center;">
____________________________________________________________</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">“Take off your bra,
little one. I want to see a picture of your nipples through your shirt. While,
on the train, I want you to twist those nipples ten times. The tenth time, I
want you to catch the eye of another passenger, lower your eyes and then twist
within full view of that passenger. They should see you. Do you understand,
cunt?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Yes, Sir.</i> I
planned to find a bathroom or somewhere private to remove my bra. Soon fifteen
minutes had gone by. I was still out in the open. I was sitting on a concrete
bench, waiting for my train, surrounded by dozens of people. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Well, fuck it. </i>I
slipped my left arm out of my bra strap. No one seemed to notice. I slipped my
right arm out. No one was staring. I furtively reached behind me, and with a
quick <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">snap</span></i><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">, it was off. I
pulled the bra from beneath my shirt, folded it, and placed it in my bag.
Still, no one seemed to have noticed. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I arranged the scarf
that I was wearing to cover my breasts. I sent a picture to Master. He chucked
at my resourceful scarf placement and informed me that when I boarded the
train, I was to make sure that my scantily clad breasts were exposed and in
view of the other passengers. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">It was a blustery day. I was wearing a thin white tank,
which did not even hide the color of my nipples from view. It ruffled in the
breeze like a flag. It was cold. Well, I was chilly once I removed my bra. With
my nipples standing fully erect, the fabric of my tank rippling over them and
playing in the breeze, I sat, on a concrete bench, waiting for my train. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">The cool breeze and the sensation of the fabric blowing
across my breasts sent shivers down my spine. As I sat at the platform, the
handles of my handbag kept brushing against my nipples. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">When the train arrived, we clambered aboard with our
baggage. I settled into my seat and tied my scarf in the middle leaving my
breasts exposed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Through out the train ride, I occasionally reached up and
twisted a nipple hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before too long,
they were hypersensitive and my cunt was throbbing between my legs. For the
last one, I had a little more trouble. I had to catch someone’s eye.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I waited, scanning the crowd for eyes. The train was mostly
empty now. The stop before ours, I caught the eye of a 60ish year old man. I
looked intensely, averted my gaze and twisted. I didn’t look up again. With a
devilish grin, I reported my success to Master. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
____________________________________________________________</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I am writing to you now on my endless travel day. It feels
like I have been traveling for days. I’m totally out of juice. So, you should
know how I love you dear reader. You are getting the last of me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Now, all I do is focus, single-mindedly, on getting home to
my beloved Master. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-5607866399527596852016-06-29T05:55:00.001-07:002016-06-29T05:55:49.631-07:00At Master's feet<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Most little girls grow up dreaming of a fairytale castle and
a charming prince on a white horse. I dreamt of this also… However, my
fairytale castle had a dungeon. In fact, it still does. I’ve finally found a
prince who knows what to do with it, who knows what to do with me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">My life has changed so much in the past two months. I met my
beloved Master. In two months he has changed me so drastically. He enslaved me
with his charm, laughter, love, power, strength, and dominance. I have longed
my entire life for someone who could control me, debase me, use me like a
filthy whore and still cherish me. I found him. So many rights and freedoms
that I would never have given away, I threw at his feet. It was so natural. It
IS so natural. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I never expected to find a love like this or a man before
whom I wanted to kneel. At his feet, I feel a peace that I have not felt
before. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Every relationship is hard work. It is no small undertaking
to transform two people into one unit. This is more than that. I want to be an
extension of Master, so connected that I am as close to him as his arms and
legs. In order to achieve this, I bend my will to his. His desires become my
desires. Anything and everything he asks will be accomplished flawlessly,
without question or hesitation. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">This is the type of obedience to which I aspire. This is the
obedience that I will achieve. My service makes me joyful, and my submission
gives me freedom. The blessed and beautiful thing about all of this is that we
have our entire lives to accomplish it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I am beginning my slave training in earnest. I know that
this is going to be difficult, painful, grueling and sometimes even horrific. I
know that all that comes with unending love, affection, respect, and care. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Master has told me that things are going to change. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">My life will include bathroom use control, dietary
restrictions/specifications, and a dress code both inside and out of the house,
bed times, and exercise schedules. When Master is not able to be with me, I
will not be under the influence of any substance. I will limit physical,
spoken, and eye contact with strangers. I will not speak to strangers unless
spoken to or given consent by Master. From now on, I will take my meals, when
at home, from a bowl at his feet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Strangely enough, I cannot wait to begin. That is the way
that I love this man. I will give him everything that I am, and everything that
I am not. I will be clay in his hands for him to mold, shape and form into
something abjectly beautiful. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Master says that I am ready to meet his sadist. I am
frightened. I believe that I should be, but I want to know every facet of him.
Beneath all of my fears, there is a foundation of truth. I trust this man. I
trust him with my life. Someday, I will trust him with our children. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I am frightened of losing myself in his shadow. Yet, I know
that he will protect me. Someday, in the not too distant future, I will no
longer fear. The emotional agony wrought by others will be overwritten. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Fear is the mind killer.</span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration.<br /> </span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I will face my fear.<br /> </span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I will permit is to pass over me and through me.<br /> </span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see
its path.</span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Where the fear has gone, there will be nothing.<br /> </span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Only I will remain. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span> </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">–
from Dune by Frank Herbert</span></blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">This is the first day of the rest of my life. I will face my
challenges bravely. I know that each one will be rewarded a thousand times
over. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life at the feet of my
beloved. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-60619608951715234032016-06-24T11:36:00.000-07:002016-06-25T03:55:41.586-07:00Submission from across the globe<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">5500 miles. That's how far Master and I are apart, as the crow flies. Once I return, Master has declared that we will be inseparable. For the time being, we are separated. He has been sending me tasks to help me feel more connected to him and to continue to exert his dominance. I will present a few episodes for you here. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>"On the train, little one, you will find the bathroom, twist your nipples until you cry out in pain. Then, edge for 5 minutes. When you return to your seat, continue to edge until I say stop." </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i>Here goes.</i> I rose from my seat and strode purposefully to the restroom that I had seen when boarding the train. I tried the door. Nothing indicated that the restroom was occupied. The door was stuck. The open button didn't work. I gave it a hard shove and the door slid open slightly. But, much to my chagrin someone was inside. I hoped they didn't notice me. So, I waited. And waited... you know how this is when you are waiting for someone to come out of the restroom. Finally, out they came. In I went. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I reached under my shirt and grabbed my nipples between my fingers. They rose beneath my touch. I twisted. I immediately became aware of how much more effort it took to hurt myself than I expected. I did as I was told. I twisted, and I pinched, with my jaw clenched until I had to stifle a cry. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I took down my pants and slid my fingers into my cunt. It was already wet. I thought about Master as my fingers slid in and out, circled gently around my clit and went back into my pussy. I stifled a moan. The train car swayed back and forth... I struggled to keep my balance, and I pressed my body harder into the wall of the restroom. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">The timer went off. I walked out, and returned to my seat.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I crossed my legs HARD when I sat down. Edging was hard with my piercing so fresh. But I kept it up, damn it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>"You will kneel, in sub position, somewhere in public today, for two minutes."</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">We walked into the Piazza di Spagna. Tourists were everywhere. It always makes me feel like I am part of some herd going to the slaughter. I was feeling mildly uneasy. I was uncertain how my traveling companion would regard my kneeling in public. I was looking for a safe option. Attract as little attention as possible, I thought. Then I found my opportunity... There was a fountain. It was below ground level. I knelt and as I assumed sub position, sitting on my heels, knees apart and head lowered, I took a picture with my phone. Of nothing in particular, it was merely camouflage. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I discussed it with Master a few minutes later. My snark very nearly got me into a lot of trouble. "I knelt at the edge of a fountain and took a picture," I said. "I had to have a good reason to kneel." Oops. <i>Ladies and gentlemen, sarcasm is difficult to convey via text message. </i>I very nearly got into some serious trouble. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>"When at home, always leave midriff exposed, unless told otherwise, and wear pants low. No underwear or bra in the house, cutie."</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">To be quite frank, this made me pretty nervous at first. As I may have mentioned earlier, my traveling companion is more on the conservative side of things. I wasn't sure how she would react. But, I did it anyway, of course. I remember how exposed I felt with my nipples peaked beneath my shirt and the pull of my jeans against my clit. She never said a word. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>"Kneel in sub position for 2 minutes today. Have Naomi take a picture. Send it to me."</b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpqVa31H-pQdq4xwRreTgsGlZxK4LatP3YxC_zQt6wQI1TdkP7hqJdZ3RlU80aDjMrB4nQqfeG67Ggyw74e9F6zNXBiXSpLDjQW-QtxHQpHoklXnbyKol7GW64OUTfkAZ5nRhF4nCiyczB/s1600/IMG_1374.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpqVa31H-pQdq4xwRreTgsGlZxK4LatP3YxC_zQt6wQI1TdkP7hqJdZ3RlU80aDjMrB4nQqfeG67Ggyw74e9F6zNXBiXSpLDjQW-QtxHQpHoklXnbyKol7GW64OUTfkAZ5nRhF4nCiyczB/s200/IMG_1374.jpg" width="144" /></a><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I believe it was the night before, she and I had a very long conversation about the BDSM lifestyle (read about it <a href="http://catlytt.blogspot.com/2016/06/abroad-but-not-unchained.html">here</a>.). She was putting on makeup in the bathroom when I got Master's message. After the fiasco with the fountain, I had volunteered to have my traveling companion take a picture of my submission. Not very exciting, but it got the job done. Naomi didn't say a word about it. She simply complied. This time, I was sure she had questions, but she never asked. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>"While you are out in town today, go to a public restroom. Kneel on the floor and place your head into the toilet bowl. Edge like this for 5 minutes. Then, sit on the toilet and edge 5 minutes more. If you do not comply, you must send a picture or an explanation of why."</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Were I with Master, none of these requests would make me uncomfortable... more than he intended anyway. Traveling with a non-kink person, whose opinion I value so much, causes me a bit of anxiety. Leaving her to go to the restroom was one thing. 10 minutes seemed like another. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I swallowed my pride and my anxiety and made my way to the WC (as they call it here). I think most of you, dear readers, are american... In Italy, there is often a charge to use a public restroom. For me, there is this feeling of attending some filthy amusement park with the little gate where you deposit your coins and go in. (Of course, all amusement parks are filthy)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">The stall was less than civilized. There was toilet paper on the floor, damp with muddy urine. The door didn't lock. There was no seat on the toilet. I don't think that I have ever been so relieved by a dirty bathroom floor. I snapped a picture to send to Master. I perched myself on the edge of the toilet bowl, spread my legs wide and slipped my fingers into my pussy. It was humid in the restroom. I could feel the moisture from the water in the bowl below me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I thrusted firmly with my fingers toward my g-spot. I focused on the sensation and started my timer. 10 minutes. I worked hard. I broke a sweat. About four minutes in, someone opened the door. I pulled it shut again immediately... but the minutes grew longer as I had to hold the door shut to prevent interruptions. Ten minutes is a long time to edge. It seemed eternal in that cramped dirty little stall. When the timer went off, I realized that my hand was quite wet, enough so that I would need to clean it before I could pull up my jeans. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I licked my juices from my fingers, dried them on some toilet paper, rearranged myself, washed my hands, and walked into daylight. I felt naughty, dirty, and yet, somehow accomplished. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b><br /></b></span>Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-31745260342526387132016-06-20T09:56:00.003-07:002016-06-25T04:24:18.723-07:00How this all started<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>I think Master and I might be Fetlife's greatest success.</b> That is, of course, impossible to know... nevertheless, there sure were a lot of coincidental events that brought us together.</span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I believe in fate. Call it a leftover from my religious upbringing. Call it whatever you will. It helps me to bring sense to the world in which I live.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I joined Fetlife on a whim. Several people had told me that it would be a good way to get plugged into the community... but I had never done it. One evening, after a couple of beers, I did it. I signed up. I didn't know anyone. I didn't really know anything about the site. I just wanted to check it out.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I put up one picture of myself, a bit coy and wearing a crown (I would share, but I don't want to put my face on my blog.). I wrote a tiny blurb about myself. The hook was, <b>"If you choose to know me, be forewarned, I am a bit much to handle... not for the faint of heart."</b></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">After that, I set off to find someone to talk to; ideally, local, my age, and a dominant... but I was open to other things. I looked through the first two pages of results in my area.<br />
Nope. Nope. Unattractive. Sounds creepy. Nope.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br />
I moved on to the third page. 28M Dom. Ok, that sounds promising. I opened his profile. Not only was he extremely good looking, but his About Me section was full of joy, honesty, and discussion of doing things for the sole purpose of making other people happy. Not only that, but his fantasies went as dark as mine. Darker even. Sounded like fun. Sold. So, I sent him a message.</span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>C:</b> Tell me about you?</span></span></blockquote>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I was feeling especially nonchalant after my two beers. I had no expectations. Then, he responded! We traded a few basic pleasantries.</span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>M:</b> Just curious what you'd like to know about me, Catlytt :-) hope you're having a great night so far! :-)</span></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>C:</b> I'm a sub... but pretty shy about it. I'm kind of looking into the lifestyle/looking for a relationship.</span></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>M:</b> Well, munches are decent to go to. Also, I'd be interested in meeting with you, if you think you'd enjoy hanging out with me :-) Tell me about your submissive desires, fantasies, things that make you satisfied or happy. If you're comfortable sharing that. Or non-kink things, too! Tell me about you being a bit much to handle--I'm curious! :-)</span></span></blockquote>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i>Oh my god, he took the bait.</i></span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>C:</b> I would be totally cool with hanging out sometime. I have yet to really go to anything... I'm a bit shy. I want to know whatever you would like to share. I'm curious by nature. :-) Pray tell whatever you think I should know. I've never had a real sub/dom relationship. It's something that I have wanted for as long as I can remember... but a good dom is hard to find. I'm a fairly aggressive and dominant personality outside of the bedroom. I love feeling like I am serving a master as they would like. I like a sensitive and intuitive master who is not unnecessarily brutal. I like pain, but I have my limits. For me, the sub/dom lifestyle is very emotional... the give and take is fairly sacred. But, I may or not provoke a master... :-P</span></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>M:</b> Not only a good Dom, but the right one for you. I've been having the same situation with subs haha, although they aren't so much bad or awful people as they just aren't the right fit. You've wanted this for a long time--that must be frustrating as heck, but here's the good news--good Doms are out there, for sure. Your time will definitely come :-) Ok! I look forward to talking with you! I have my own experiences and take on things, both of which I can tell you, but I'm by no means an expert--no one is. Each relationship is unique :-) Hahaha, a little bratty, perhaps :-P. Very very fun! D/s relationships can be very incredibly intimate, and they don't even require sex! Although of course they can as a possibility. But yes, it's a very fulfilling experience for many people.</span></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>C:</b> Of course! I was raised in a very closed-minded town... But I have had pretty dark fantasies for a long time, long before I understood them. I'm totally game for hanging out sometime if you would like. I'm off all this week.Yes, It's the intimacy I am longing for. Though, sex is always welcome. I'm a bit of a nympho.I don't know if I would call it bratty... I'm certainly not spoiled. But, I do have a serious mind of my own.</span></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>M:</b> Oh! Vacation????? And this week, as in until Monday?</span></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>C:</b> I start back on tuesday night.</span></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>M:</b> Well then. Intimacy, sex. Nympho, eh? :-P. Strong words from the shy little sub ;-P. Only kidding. But you do seem intriguing :-) smart, sexy, and kinky? Not the worst combination haha.Serious mind indeed :-)</span></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>C:</b> Well, here is my number. Text if you're interested.</span></span></blockquote>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i>Sorry guys, I must edit out a few things. I can't have my number floating around on the internet.</i></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Then, he texted me. I could hardly believe it! We arranged to meet Saturday. We kept texting, sharing more information. He asked for permission to specify how I should dress for our meeting, and he sent me an ominous picture of a binder clip with a caption that said it was for me. I allowed him to dom me a little, but I made it very clear that I was not allowing much more until I trusted him. Along those lines, I also set a hard limit on gags... until the requisite trust was established.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">On Friday afternoon, he asked if I was available that night to meet. So much for Saturday. I said that I was free. He told me to bring overnight things, but that he would reserve judgement about whether or not we would play until we met. This might have been concerning with someone else, but I had a pretty good feeling for this guy. He really didn't seem creepy. He seemed like an awesome person to know. So, I let him have the reins.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">He told me to wear a buttoned down shirt, with one more button open than I normally would, and the shortest skirt in my arsenal. I had a moment of stress while I tried to put together an outfit. (Confession: I'm pretty vain.) I finally decided on a crisp white shirt, a grey miniskirt, and high heeled boots. I felt exposed. (This was much more revealing than I normally dress and more revealing than my mother would ever have tolerated.)</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I talked with my safe-call. I told her where I was going, when I was going, and told her that I would report in at intervals. If I didn't respond to her within a designated time, she would call the police. Personal safety, check. I was so nervous that I could barely walk. I was, literally, shaking in my boots. So, I went to the bar an hour early. I figured that if we had to meet on neutral territory that I could at least get the lay of the land first.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I got a beer. Chugged it. Still nervous. I got a second beer. I was halfway through putting it away when he walked in.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">He didn't see me at first. He looked all around. But then, he spotted me. He strode purposefully across the room and sat beside me. There was some nervous laughter, on my part, though I tried to play it off.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">He took a good long look at me, like a person who had been in a desert for weeks and has just spotted water. His eyes hugged my curves like a second skin. "Good girl," he whispered in my ear, "Very good girl."</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">It was noisy in the bar. We shouted at each other for a couple of minutes when he leaned in again, "You're coming home with me." I had prepared myself for this. I brought my overnight bag. I was ready. "Yes Sir," I said with a flutter of concern/uncertainty in my belly. I wanted to trust him. Oh, how it turned me on.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Honestly, I've never gone home with a stranger before. They always come home with me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I'm a huntress.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">And that's what happened. I didn't eat. I couldn't. In my nervous state, I forgot all my things in my car. But, he took me home with him.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">His place wasn't far from the bar. It only took us a couple of minutes to get there. It was a quiet neighborhood. He lead me up a walk, around behind a house, and downstairs into the basement. In his bedroom, there was a mattress on the floor, which did, at least, appear to have clean sheets. It was a fairly spartan living space, not much different than I had expected.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">We climbed onto the mattress. His lips met mine. His fingers tangled into my hair, and I let go. I trusted. Blindly. He took control.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Our clothes came off in a very matter-of-fact way. There was no passionate ripping. It happened as if it were totally expected, part of the arrangement. I was frightened and so aroused. I continued to choose to trust.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">He got up from the bed. I stifled a gasp as I watched the muscles ripple in his thigh, watched him move around the room. I was mesmerised.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">As it turned out, he was serious about the binder clips. They pinched hard (really, fucking hard!) on my nipples, sending electric shocks straight down my spine. I felt my pussy throb as if startled from sleep. His fingers slid over my body and took their place in my dripping cunt. I had warned him previously that it was difficult to make me cum. He made me look like a liar.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I was completely at his mercy. There was not a single part of me that wanted to stop him. Honestly, I was asking myself if I would fuck on the first date. Yes, I decided, I would. I'm so ready. Take me. This lack of control is completely intoxicating.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">He didn't try. I must admit I was befuddled. There hadn't been many men in my life who hadn't tried to get in my pants right away. It was curious, but I let it go.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br />
I was completely spent. He didn't get awkward. He didn't kick me out. He wrapped his arms around me, and went to sleep. Normally, I need sleeping pills to sleep, but not that night. Curled up in his arms, cradled in the warmth of his body, I slept, not a care in the world.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">We spent the next two days together. All day Saturday and Sunday morning. We had an amazing time. We held hands. Kissed in public. Laughed and smiled until our faces began to cramp. Then, I went home.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I had been home for a few hours when I got a text message. He was very polite, if a little withdrawn. He explained that he had a lot going on in his life right now with school, apartment hunting, and surgical planning. He basically told me that he didn't have time for me. I wanted something serious, and he was too busy.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>I cried.</b> It may seem silly, but I was so disappointed. The weekend had been like a dream come true for me. I had more fun than I had had in months. I felt cared for, special, cherished. And suddenly, it was over. I was practically dejected. I talked with one of my best friends. She comforted me. I let it go. He continued to talk back and forth, a little, the rest of Sunday and Monday.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Monday, late afternoon, I got a text.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>M:</b> May I come over and see you after work?</span></span></blockquote>
<br />
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">My pulse quickened. My cheeks flushed. I cracked the tiniest of grins as I replied, "<b>Yes Sir.</b>"</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
</div>
Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-50194741877561449062016-06-18T15:32:00.000-07:002016-06-18T15:32:33.266-07:00Abroad, but not unchained<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Well, I am in Rome. One of my best childhood friends and I
are spending three weeks traveling through Italy. It’s a celebration of
finishing graduate school and getting my first big girl job. We have been best
friends for years and years, but being in this kind of close proximity brings
to light all kinds of things that we previously hadn’t talked about. I told her
a few months ago that I was into BDSM. We didn’t talk too much about it at the
time, but now that I belong to Master, it is finally needing to be discussed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">My collar has become a part of me now, just as Master has
become a part of my life. They are both exquisitely permanent. The difficulty
that remains is helping people to understand. It didn’t take long before Naomi
asked me about my collar. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">“Does that actually lock? It looks like it locks.” <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Oh absolutely, it locks. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">So, I am on a journey through Italy in 24/7 submission,
without my wonderful Master. It’s been difficult being away from him, and it
has only been just a few days. I miss his love, the intimacy of being
subservient, my place at his feet, his intensity and warmth. I have his commands
from afar… relatively minimal contact and the weight of his collar around my
neck to give me peace. But it is nothing like the real thing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I have removed my bra and panties. Master requested that
whenever I am where I am staying that I lose the undergarments. So, my nipples
are peaked beneath my thin tee, and I can feel my clit piercing rub on the
inside of my jeans. It’s a gentle reminder of who owns my body. His ownership
makes me feel so secure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While I am
gone, Master is sending me commands to remind me of my subservience and remind
me of his presence in my life. I love each and every one. I cannot imagine
being anything other than obedient. He means so very much to me. I want
desperately to please him always. </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">The other day, Naomi expressed some curiosity about the Dom/sub relationship: how it works, what it is like for me, how can someone be a sadist and not a horrible person...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">That was one large glass of limoncello. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">I started by explaining that there are different types of submissives, that <i>sub</i> is a generic term, but that it generally indicates a certain set of behaviors. I explained to her that I actually consider myself a slave and that means that I have even less say about what Master does with me (by choice, of course). I explained to her that the Dom/sub relationship is based on trust, and that both partners enjoy the power exchange. We discussed how everything is agreed upon by both partners ahead of time, especially with new partners. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">I told her that I was raised as a submissive... with two controlling parents, having my life be out of my control and in the hands of someone that I trust is very comforting. We discussed how one comes to build that trust with another person. Master and I were able to build our trust very quickly. Originally, it was "You have never given me a reason not to trust you." That transitioned into, "You have given me so many reasons to trust you." In my case, I was blessed beyond belief. Master and I are from completely different backgrounds, but we share so much in the way that our minds work. He has no trouble reading my needs and wants. He gives me everything that I need to be ok. (Don't, my dear readers, believe that he is soft on me. He isn't.) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">I explained to her that, as far as I understand it, that the edification that Master gets from causing me pain and degrading me is more about power and control than causing pain. Master is one of the kindest people I know. His sadism is separate from the rest of his personality... It's a bit of an outlier, really. I tried to explain it in terms of something that she already understood. </span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: courier new, courier, monospace;">Rape is a crime of power not of passion. It's kind of like that... except being expressed in a healthy way with two consenting adults. </span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I think that made sense to her... it's so hard to explain these things to people who have no idea about the lifestyle and the patterns of thought that go with it. It feels like trying to explain the color green to a person who was born blind. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Like I said, we have three weeks together. I'm sure that we will be discussing this more. I'll be sure to bring you all the play-by-play while I attempt to educate my very religious, conservative friend about my kink. </span></div>
Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5656370342768415367.post-29162352336350573312016-06-18T14:29:00.002-07:002016-06-18T14:29:29.943-07:00A weekend away<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Right after my piercing, Master and I got in the car and
drove to Portland. I am, or have been until recently, the cuddliest person that
I have ever known. With Master, I have finally met my match. I adjusted my
position carefully in the seat of the car to avoid pain from my piercing. I was
feeling sensitive emotionally, likely secondary to the pain I had just
experienced, so I kept physical contact with Master the entire drive (somewhere
between two and three hours). <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">We stopped a little bit outside of Portland. We had been
invited to dinner with Master’s parents at the home of a family friend. As I
believe I have mentioned before, I grew up in a very conservative part of the
United States… East Texas to be specific. I now live in the Pacific Northwest.
It would be difficult to find a place more ideologically different than where I
came from. This suits me well, but most of my family and friends are still
extremely conservative. It doesn’t matter how much I change, that place will
always be a part of me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Generally, I try to avoid political conversations… but talk
turned to politics. It wasn’t that I so much disagreed with the political views
of my hosts, I was offended by the way they talked about people who held
different views. Regardless of what I think, “those people” are my friends and
family… and until a few years ago, me. That, in combination with the pain in my
clitoris and my inability to get comfortable exhausted me quickly, physically
and emotionally. Master was very attentive, as always, giving me reasons to get
up and move around or go outside so that I could get some reprieve. I don’t
wish to be ungrateful, but we couldn’t have left soon enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I let out a sigh of relief when we drove the
rest of the way to Portland.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Master’s parents, on the other hand, are some of the more
delightful people that I’ve met. This last visit was the third time I had met
them and the first time that I had worn a collar in front of them. Contrary to
what one might think, I feel free when I wear my collar. It’s like finally not
hiding a part of myself. I’m out and I’m proud… for those who know where to
look. I feel like a bird out of my cage. I’m getting carried away– I
immediately felt like part of the family. There were no strings, no judgment.
They seem like refreshingly normal, well-balanced people. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Master was so excited to show me around his hometown. This
was our first visit when we actually had time to enjoy the city. He took me to
a bustling district in Southwest Portland. We parked the car and ran a quick
errand. We set out on foot to explore. I wore a skirt in hopes of keeping
pressure of my piercing. Unfortunately, I chose a skirt that limited the length
of my stride. Suddenly, I found myself struggling to keep up with Master who
walks quickly anyway. All those short little steps. With each stride, I felt my
piercing rub. It was a little painful, but I began to notice the weight of the
jewelry and become increasingly aware of my arousal. I wasn’t wearing
underwear. I had discovered that even the friction from my thong was
uncomfortable earlier. It was warm out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Our first stop was Master’s favorite kink shop. I was
surprised by the selection and could have easily dawdled there for quite a
while. We moved on. We stopped for lunch and a drink at a bar somewhere. The
longer we were out, the sweatier and more aroused I got. It wasn’t long before
I was completely slick with sweat and my own juices. Most of the time we spent
that afternoon is hazy for me. Master and I were completely lost in each other.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">It wouldn’t matter to me if we spent the weekend on the
sofa, at a hospital, or on the surface of the moon… as long as we are together,
nothing is wrong in the world. That’s love for you. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">The drive back was much like the drive to Portland… with the
exception of a little fellatio along the way. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>;-)</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Catlytt Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09682443876842892333noreply@blogger.com0