Dacryphilia Vs Drama...

So tonight I wanted to talk a little about tears and drama. I love seeing tears, I love causing them. Whether it be from physical pain, emotional torment, or fuzzy love, I love tears. Today, jenpet got herself in some hot water, and as I have instructed her to write a post about it when she is allowed free time online again, I don't want to dwell on the specifics right now.

Needless to say she is being punished, and that punishment let loose a lot of tears tonight. No, I didn't cane her bottom... yet. It came from the look on my face as I expressed my disappointment. It came from the nearly two hours she spent alone in the cage thinking about what she did. And it came from the fact that several of her privileges were withheld till further notice. However it also came with some drama and that I do not like.

Beyond Words...

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It's all fuzzy...

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Hopeful despair...

Since the last time i wrote, Master and i have had the opportunities to spend some quality time playing, despite the franticness that comes with my return to school each semester.

While i didn't cope well with the scene on January 11th, and have been struggling, i am still (forever) Master's property, and feel like his property. The struggle has been primarily in what feels good for both my brain and my body, and the feeling of disconnect that remains between the two. Though i know Master's first impulse is to crush me beneath His boot with force when this dichotomy appears, i am grateful that He has crushed me beneath His boot with some gentleness.

On Sunday, the house was stunningly quiet, and Master and i knew we needed to take the opportunity (as my classes resumed the following day) and we did so. Out came rope and the hood - but it wasn't just any rope, like the nice soft nylon, no, it was the sisal rope. i do love the sisal because it doesn't tend to slide and pinch, but i hate the sisal because the reason it doesn't slide and pinch is because it digs into you, stabbing you with a thousand little slivers. i cannot help but feel utterly helpless in that stuff, even if my hands are free - in a sense it reminds me of an electric fence - there is nothing you can do to get around it.

As i lay there, Master retrieved something that we hadn't talked about before hand, one of His favorite and rare indulgences . . . a plastic bag (shudder). Some aspects of breath play i adore - but this is not one of them (though i trust Him), this one, all i can do is endure*. And i despaired. i have given myself so completely, that those cruelties He springs upon me change nothing. i am His to do with as He pleases. Following the removal of the bag, still gasping for air inside the leather hood, still wrapped in sisal rope, He fucked me, used me, and finished with His property.

Under a warm shower after He released me, the despair passed, as it always does, life resumes . . . and i am reminded that i am owned.

* i wish i didn't have to emphasize this, but breath play is dangerous. Master and i are experienced players, are well aware of the risks and have done our best to minimize those risks while still choosing to indulge our fantasies.

Complexities

i am far from perfect. But, even knowing that, i know that my Master loves me, even though it's not something "required" of our relationship.

Every now and then, what i see as my imperfections cause this cycle of self-depreciation. Tonight, for example - Master and i had the opportunity for a chance to play. i was strapped down, and while Master thumped implement after implement onto the bed, i had no clue what He had planned. When He started it felt like His goal was to wear my skin off through various beatings...from the thud of leather clad hands, to the obnoxious sting of a kite stick turned mini-cane or the sting of His bare hands, i squirmed and tried in vain to escape.

One of the strangest things about being me is my brain and my body are not always in agreement about what is pleasure, pain or any intermingling of the two. Master laughs at me and often ignores my brain while following the cues that my body gives Him. Meanwhile, i'm often frustrated because even though i know i've liked the sensation in the past, i'm not enjoying it in the moment, or even able to find head-space where i can at least cope with it. Tonight was one such evening. While my body was busy experiencing pleasure, my brain jumped from each impact, lurched into a myriad of emotions. When Master was satisfied with the shade of red covering His property from tits to thighs, He turned me over and began again.

And again, my brain and body didn't agree. Even though Master, throughout, had been reinforcing His satisfaction with how well i was doing by telling me i was His good girl, i didn't feel like it at that point. In fact, i was feeling horrible because every four or five impacts on my ass i had one singular thought . . . "i want to punch Him in the eye." During the percussion strikes upon my body when i wasn't concerned with getting my hand loose to punch my Owner, i alternated between guilt at thinking about attempting to hurt my Master, struggling to cope with the beating and searching for the endorphin high to fall into sync with my body's desires...

And i couldn't. i cried from the pain, but didn't achieve a cathartic release.

Master fucked me afterwards, even though i had confessed my horrible thoughts - and it was during the sex that at least a few of those lovely stress reducing tears fell from my eyes...

And i didn't punch Him in the eye at the end of it all. Instead, i'm circling this mess of emotion, wondering why i cannot keep my heart, body and mind all of one mind (snort) about what i signed up for when i accepted a life without choice.

With a sore bum.

Anal Plans Updated...

Well, this whole anal training thing did not go according to plan. Surprise, surprise right? They say that no plan ever survives contact with the enemy, and the plug is the apparent nemesis of my girl's asshole.

We've been stalled by the holidays, colds, back issues, and more. Still, patience is a must when working on any training. To that end, I've decided to just extend the timeline through this next school semester. My original hope was to fuck her in the ass by the time she had to go back, but at this point we haven't graduated up in plug size or had the planned enema. So, we'll just have to keep at it when we can find moments. This of course means that the girl will have to deal with wearing the plug through normal day activity, chores and the like, which would be a good thing in general.

I'm thinking of using the inflatable enema plug as an intermediary step between the two plugs. The inflatable aspect would allow me to stretch her inner colon incrementally over a short period. Regardless, we're still working on it and the ultimate goal is still anal sex. We're just going to go about it slower without a structured timetable. Also, I think that it would benefit her appreciation for the whole experience if I were to attack her clit with a vibe each time, forcing her to have at least one orgasm during the plugging.

Stay tuned :)...

Top 10...

So here we are, the new year, 2011. We have a new look on our blog here, something that the girl suddenly felt needed to be done. I like the look of it, different for sure.

We're all ready nine days in and we've only had two opportunities for play. Not bad odds given the time I suppose 2 out of 9, but somehow I'm hoping for more from the this year.

Our first opportunity came just the other day and I had this inclination for breast torture. Sadly a full camera memory prevented me from getting any pictures, but here is a brief recap.

I bound her on the bed with her hands cuffed out wide to the side. I used the short bamboo sticks to bind her tits in a breast vice. Using our old stockpile of martial arts belts, I clamped the two sticks down tightly on her tits and bound the belts around her back and around the front one more time. This caused a rather nice clamp on her tits, but pressed the sticks a little too tightly against her breast bone, which got plenty of whining.

2011

Wow. New year, another year older, and still plunking along.

i'm on the mend, the last of the cold finally lifting, my shoulder/back pain beginning to let up, and hopefully, Master and i can squeeze in some serious fun before school starts again in 11 days.

A lot of things that we were hoping to accomplish while i was on break just didn't happen. It's been kind of aggravating in that regard. While Master noted that i mentioned an interest in getting back to the anal training, and supposed it was just so that i could get Him to drop it entirely, that isn't actually the case. While i'm not enjoying it, nor particularly thrilled about it, it's something that He has asked (told) me to do...so i'm doing my best to give it a fair try, to not whinge about it, and otherwise comply with my Master's orders.

And while nothing fun has happened since last year (whine) i'm riding that horrible edge of need, and thinking of all the lovely cruel things Master is capable of, and knowing that if we get a few hours to ourselves, He will do them and i will wonder why i wanted Him to do those horrible things while He's doing them. Afterwards, i'll know why. But during, not so much. i've been fantasizing about electrical play, canes, paddles, playing cards and clothespins, rope, leather, chains and the inability to answer the infernal questions He asks after He's gagged me...

(sigh) Maybe soon.

i'm sure you'll notice the changes to the blog's design - i like playing with layouts, and was looking forward to a change, and with the new year, it seemed a great time to change it. Now, if Master doesn't like it, well...you might see a few more changes.