Making a beast...part two

She waited for him to stop laughing, unsure of what would come next. Whatever it was, she knew it wouldn't be easy, and she was already feeling humiliated by the games that hadn't yet begun.

She moved towards the sound of his laughter, looking through the hood hoping to see his feet before she ran into anything. She was horribly clumsy, bound like this and encased in the heavy hood. Before she saw his feet she scraped her side on the island in the kitchen, and whimpered.

"Poor, clumsy dog," he said, amusement tinging his voice.

She sat back, looking up to the sound of his voice and for the first time in days, saw his face lit by sunlight. As always, his boyish features were colored by the sadism that she awoke in him.

"Let's help you learn some grace, shall we?"

She whimpered.

"Find your way to the playroom, now, pup," he said, sliding a long plastic mixing spoon off of the counter. Eyes widening with fear behind the mask, she turned too hastily and lost her balance. In a hurry to avoid contact with the plastic spoon, she drug her hind end along as she propelled herself forward with her arms, simultaneously attempting to get back up onto her knees.

He stepped in front of her, quickly, halting her progress. He snapped her ass with the dreaded spoon in rapid succession as she attempted to squirm away. Her muffled yelps continued for a moment after he had ceased, and his sadistic chuckle rang in her ears.

"We're going to work on your grace," he said again. "And I think it would be good if you started the lesson with at least measured steps, rather than panic." He picked her up with one arm, and placed her back on her knees.

She attempted to calm her nerves and remind herself that the spoon was nothing compared to spending any amount of time locked away from him. As she cautiously began to move forward again, she felt the burning impact of the kitchen utensil on her ass. She whimpered as she moved towards the large, mostly empty room where he trained her most often.

As she moved deliberately, her feelings ranged widely from loathing the humiliation of being made into a beast, without words, without choice, to adoration for the man who knew her well enough to push her through even the darkest places and make her better for each of those places they had gone together. Though she was humiliated, and already tears were leaking from her eyes inside the mask, she knew that this too, would show her its rewards.

Making a beast...part one

She waited, impatiently, cramped in the tiny cage... She couldn't tell how long it had been since her owner had put her away. She only hoped that he would come and get her soon.

She shifted, as much as the cage allowed, and looked out at the dish of water, licking her lips. She could not decide which she desired most...to be released from the small, cold cage to be of use to her owner or for just a little lap of water from the bowl.

His steps finally broke the dark silence. The girl in the cage pushed herself to all fours, trembling anxiously to hear his voice, for his touch, to be released from the tiny prison that filled many of her days.

But he said nothing and did not immediately approach the cage that held his pet. Instead, he went to the shelf, and, carefully, so that she could see his actions, pulled on his supple leather gloves with deliberation. When he had carefully smoothed the leather over his hands, he reached up to the shelf and pulled down several lengths of rope, and a short length of chain.

He finally approached the cage, and quickly opened the latch, fastening the short length of chain to the thick metal collar around her neck. Once it was firmly attached, he yanked her from the cage. As she moved forward, he bent down quickly to fasten the other end of the chain to an eyebolt protruding from the floor.

The girl could hardly move, her head only inches from the floor. She whimpered as his leather clad hands grasped her ankle firmly and quickly began lashing her ankle to her thigh. When he had finished, he moved to the other side, and did the same. She squirmed, attempting to push her skin against him. He slapped her roughly, knocking her to the rough concrete floor.

In the silence, broken only by occasional whimpers and the clinking chain, he fitted leather mitts over her hands. When he had finished he picked her up and propped her back up upon her knees, and went back to the shelf, where he picked up a leather hood. He returned to the trembling girl, and slipped the hood over her head, carefully, ensuring the built in straw and gag were fitted to her mouth. As he laced the hood closed, he masked her identity.

"The only shame of this is that I can't see your beautiful red hair."

He stepped back, looking at the woman he had transformed into a four legged-beast. "Yes, beautiful. Now, let us go about our day." He bent down, and released the short chain from where it had been attached.

"Now, my pet, get your water. And then follow me upstairs."

She fumbled over to the dish, chain clinking against the collar, and managed to get some water. Ungracefully, she found her way to the stairs and began to ascend. Her bound legs made it difficult to navigate the stairs, and eventually, she found that dragging her back end up them hindered her the least.

She whimpered as she finally emerged into her owner's kitchen. Though she could see daylight filtering through the hood, she still felt as if she was encased in darkness. Faintly, she could hear him laughing. Her knees and thighs felt horribly tender against the polished ceramic tiles.

She didn't know what her owner had in store for her today...but she hoped she would be able to please him, and perhaps enjoy the evening in his company instead of in the tiny cage in the dark basement.

To be continued...

Goodbye, "no"

There's been a lot of stress flying around in the air here lately. Master and i have been going round and round about our worth, mostly how both of us feel like we're lacking in growth.

And that's a load, right there. Master and i have grown by leaps and bounds. We do things now that terrified me before, and though there are some aspects where there has been some atrophy, we both have matured, we've tried to grow together and we've done our best to embrace the whole of ourselves.

Ever since Master took me as His own, i have wanted to be the "perfect" slave. It's this ideal i have in my head, how i do everything He asks of me perfectly, never stopping what He wants, able to find sub-space-zen in even the most difficult tasks. But, shouldn't that come naturally for a submissive? Well...if i was submissive, maybe. But i'm not, i'm willful, opinionated and determined, though i crave the structure of being His slave. (i've talked about why i submit here before, and you can read that post here.)

It doesn't come naturally, i have a heck of a time setting aside the things i think and want when He asks me to do something. Sometimes, i accomplish it with grace, with little hesitation. But sometimes, it comes from the opposite end of the spectrum... As in, it doesn't happen as He expects it to, or at all.

The word "no" isn't one that supposed to fall from my lips when it comes to something He has asked of me. And yet, it has. Several times.

Each time, both of us retreat, wounded by my refusal to submit. It hurts Him because a million times over, this is what i have told Him that i want, yet, i refused His order. It hurts me because i don't want Him to be hurt and because in those moments, i am the one who is refusing to abide by the life that i need. It's not the same as cutting, but the amount of self-damage that is done when i say "no" is comparable.

Eventually, we'll talk it out, sort out all our hurt feelings, and find our way back to where we were. And that usually means, that despite the underlying issues, i have a penance that must be paid before both of us can move beyond the incident cleanly.

But there's still that idea in my head that i can be perfect, just waiting for a chance to rear its ugly head and help me derail everything that Master and i have worked for.

And it's time for the perfect monster to be destroyed. Time for me to really work on communicating, and remembering that the word "no" does more damage then asking for a moment to talk can ever do. Remembering that every moment that i submit, i am becoming what He wants me to be ─ and He never asked for perfect.

Milking Summer

Um. So. July is sliding away, faster than we'd like. But, with plenty of warm summer days, we're enjoying every drop of summer that we can.

But things are happening. There hasn't been as much kinky stuff going on as we would like, but we're making due. And while there isn't an overabundance of great sex, there's still some great sex. (GRIN)

But really, this post was spurred by FloridaDom.

As Master briefly mentioned in His previous post, we've been pumping my breasts twice a day to trick them into producing milk and swelling up a bit again.

FloridaDom asked if i like it or if i'm just submitting to it.

It's fun and aggravating all at the same time. Pumping is just not my favorite thing. It's not horrible, but it's not great either. In fact, when our little one was breast and bottle feeding (both, for various reasons) i was horrible about pumping ─ i never did it if i could help it. It wasn't something i avoided because of the sensation, but because of the boredom and the time consumption. Now, it's kind of awesome because it's something He's enforcing. It's time that i'm serving Him. Sometimes we have the opportunity to turn it into some kinky fun, and others it's just time that i am doing something He wishes me to do. But the boredom at those times...ugh.

And it's working, of course. The girls are looking a touch firmer and plumper, and definitely feel heavier, though i'm not actually producing any real amount of milk yet.

And, speaking of which, i need to go make time to get in the afternoon pumping...

The Theme for July is...

So, it is a new month and with it come new ideas. Given the hectic nature of our lives over the past two or so years, I have found that focused training has fallen to the way side. So, I have decided to try a new approach, monthly themes. Each month I assign one specific area in which I would like to work and set a goal for the last week.

This month's theme is throat fucking. My lovely slave's oral skills have improved immensely over the past year and her comfort with it has improved as well. However, I would like to continue pushing forward and the notion of not being in control of her movements or being trapped while sucking has become a large issue. So, by the end of the month I expect her to be comfortable enough with this to be throat fucked to messy completion while bound. To start however, baby steps.

Also, in an attempt to return my slave's breasts to their former glorious size I have implemented a twice daily milking session with our breast pump. Pregnancy has the inherent cruel trick of swelling the breast to a tender and covetous size. However, once this swelling subsides, the breasts have a tendency to diminish, like a balloon once filled to capacity, which has had all the air let out. Luckily, the breasts can be coaxed back into producing and therefore swelling once more. We have already begun to see an improvement after just a couple of applications.

Along with new ideas, I had the notion of combining my deviant artistic skill with the photos that we take of our scenes. As such, given time to complete it, I will attempt to draw the basics of the scene I have in mind and later compare them to the photos I take. Much as Gord has done with many of his ideas. I will post both on our Fetlife page for viewer comparison, so be on the lookout for this sometime soon as well as reports of our progress on our monthly theme...