Subtle Realities and Creeping Doom...

We are all familiar with the fantasy aspects of this lifestyle of ours. A slave on her knees for hours, kneeling next to the chair like a loyal dog just waiting to be sent to fetch drinks or what have you, or using her as a foot stool while watching a movie. The reality, maybe she kneels there for half an hour before her submission is claimed by either boredom or joint ache.

Living in this lifestyle for over ten years now has carved a very deep and blatant line between the fantasy and the reality of owning a slave. A collar around her neck does not mean there won't be arguments, fights, bad days, misunderstandings, etc. But also, and more surprisingly, the subtle aspects of living this life have proven to be much more meaningful and even enjoyable than the blazing neon of the fantasy parts.

Sceneing brings us much closer to the fantasy than the everyday aspects of ownership and in truth it is very important to both of us. Having a chance to play, to push the line, to put her on her knees with a whip in hand and watch her moan under the lash. Ohhhh. I need that. No matter how much subtlety there maybe around here, nothing grabs a slave's attention quite like the rattle of a chain and the crack of a whip. And this golden goose is what we are missing, its bones picked clean by our son. Figuratively I can see him licking the goose grease from his fingers with a shit-eating, satisfied grin.

Let me give you an example. Just the other day, my sweet slave and I were home before I had to go to work. She was laying on the floor in the living room at my feet and nodded off. After a long time of suspicious silence I began to wonder about my son. I go into the bedroom and find that he has also nodded off. Its go time! I nab rope, a ball gag, and a blindfold and am on my slave in an instant. Her hands bound behind her back, the ball gag shoved in her mouth, and the blindfold over her eyes.

My hand clamped on her collar, I lead her to the other bedroom, lay down a cover sheet, and strip her ass down. Here is where the fantasy says she melts in my hands, moaning and begging, cunt dripping and I fuck her into a cum-ma. The reality; the ball gag keeps pinching her lip, the blindfold was giving her a headache, and her shoulders were barking with her hands bound under her. There is nothing quite as satisfying sexually than looking down at your slave while pounding away and she has the same face she has when having cramps. Have you ever been in the middle of fucking and you have to ask yourself if you even want to keep going? I don't recommend it. So I force myself to finish regardless, at which point the mix of my sweat and other fluids begins to make her itch. That's right, my slave is chemically allergic to me! I'm now feeling rejected on every level including chemical!

The fantasy could not have been more shattered if Thor himself pounded the hell out of it with his hammer. If this was an isolated incident, I could write it off as a bad moment. But this has been every mother loving time I've had a chance nearly all this month.

Now for the subtlety of ownership... I send her to shower to clean off and she asks me if I am going to get in with her. At this point I do have to shower for work, but I'm more than willing to wait till she is done and out of the bathroom. Finally I just jump in, since she was obviously going to take her time. She then offers to bathe me. A fantastically submissive act, scrubbing away, getting covered in boy soap as she calls it, and looking sexy and wet. Now this wasn't a formal display, something ritualized with flickering candles and Enigma music playing. It was just an intimate moment and entirely instigated by my slave because she wanted to make me happy.

I love the subtlety of ownership...

Up, down, down, down...

...and now can we have some up, please?

It's all part of life, the ups and downs, the periods of activity balanced with periods of inactivity.

But this deep funk that Master and i have found ourselves in sucks. i'm doing much better now, a week after it set in, and i am aching for the chance to have His hands run over me, owning me...

But, damn. Getting back to this point has been ridiculous. i've kept up on reading my favorite bloggers out there, and logged in to FetLife frequently, trying to rip myself from the bottom of the whole that swallowed me, and none of it really worked. Heck, Master let me watch some FetLife videos with Him, and it was like, "Oh. What a letdown."

Don't get me wrong, all the stuff i read and watched was interesting mentally, and i've thought about all of them more than once during this horrid week, but nothing was happening for the sexual part of me. Not even the tiniest cunt-twitch. Annoying. To know that it would do wonders for me if i could feel that and be beyond all of it was nuts.

Heck, Master had me try to get an orgasm one night while He was at work and i had to pull out the monster vibe (which is bigger and has way more muscle than most vibrators out there...though i can't really compare it to a hitachi 'coz we don't own one...) and even on the highest setting, it took me way longer than usual to find that point. And even when i did, that in itself was a letdown, because the orgasm lasted so briefly - it felt like nanoseconds and then i was again in the vast blackness that had swallowed me.

i cannot even define what triggered the event, and it's frustrating. i hated feeling that way, and i hate the remnants of it.

But i can see the sun on the other side, if we can just find the time to get through this last bit of ick...

Argggg!...

So, just a quick note to get caught up. Arggggg! This blog would not be doing its job if it didn't portray the good and the bad of our lives and our dynamic. And today it gets to show the shits.

I don't know how, I don't know when, I don't know why, hell I'm even a little confused on who and what, but for some reason or reasons everything has gone to pot. I mean everything! jenpet's physical and emotional well being has had so many ups and downs recently that I'm thinking of buying into ski lift stocks to recoup at least some of the losses I feel. My own hard earned calm exterior has melted away like a snowman in Miami, leaving a snarling mass of anger and frustration to face the world with absolutely no barrier.

With my nerves on a hair trigger, the unexpected visitation of friends in need, the challenge of our two year old, the stuff falling apart in our house, and the ever present work and bill situations, its a wonder that I'm with it enough to share it all with you, dear readers.

I kid you not about the unexpected arrival of friends in need either. We were naked, jenpet bound, hooded, butt plugged, ass in the air waiting to be filled and there came the knock at the door. How rude of us to have left them on the doorstep for any amount of time too. What opportunities we have had have either been sabotaged by our child or various issues, be they physical or emotional.

My poor girl has been feeling it as well. A depression came over her that robbed her of any and all sexual desire and enjoyment. Imagine how horrible it must be to feel the sensation but not have it connect. Being such sexual creatures as we are, it is driving the both of us nuts! It is sadly natural for any commiseration to be confused or felt as blame when the problem rests with one or the other of us as well.

The more time that passes between the chances we get to play, the more rejected I feel, as if it were in the least a conscious choice for her to feel this way. The more rejected I feel the more unreasonable and retaliatory I become. The worst of it is that, because she has been so robbed, she can't share even interest in the desires that have begun to plague my waking moments. The only comfort I can glean is found in brief moments of cruelty I can inflict upon her, such as a painful bite during a hug, wrapping my hand tightly around her neck to choke the words from her as she speaks, or even a quick swat on the ass.

Conversely, every slight infraction of the rules stands out like Vegas casino sign, slapping me in the face. And all the while, there is my sweet child, staying my hand and unreasonable wrath with his constant presence.

Fuck I need a vacation! I'm going to go pack my bitch... I mean, bags...

Video: slave and Sadist out of sync...

So, i was trying to be semi-regular about my videoblog posts, but then i ran into a bunch of bricks... And somehow, i think there's a joke in there about the bricks saying something...but...meh.

Anywho. This rather rambly videoblog is about my likes and dislikes, and how it's okay that Master has likes that i don't like, won't like, and keeps doing. Hope you enjoy my rambles!

(You can also watch this video at blip.tv!)

Oh, as far as the breath play i discussed in the video: you can find blogs about them here, here and here.

And Master is still working on His audio. He's a bit of a perfectionist, you know.

Denial Reminders....

A slave's life is one of privilege. It is a privilege to sit on furniture, to eat off of dinnerware, to use the toilet, to sleep in a bed, etc, not a right. A slave could just as easily live on the floor, eat off the floor, go in the bathtub or a litter box, or sleep on the floor. The same is true of sex. Orgasms are a privilege, a gift given by the Owner because it pleases them, not a right of the slave for the slave's enjoyment. In this way, a slave should be full of gratitude to the Owner, because every meal, every restful night, every restroom break, every orgasm is a privilege, a gift.

However, eventually we all take things for granted. Sometimes a slave needs to be reminded of their place, of the privileges they are granted and why. The other night, we had need of just such a reminder. As of late, our hectic schedules have provided very little time for the two of us to be with each other. This also means that the punishments for infractions have been piling up for a while. When my girl doesn't receive correction for her mistakes for a while, she gets a little wild.

Finally a night came when we had a chance, and I wasted no time in utilizing it. My slave was quickly stripped and chained to the bed, ass up and ready to be punished. Though, when so much time passes between punishments, the pain threshold dips a bit and each cane stroke across her upturned ass jolts her like a lightening strike. Fifteen stripes later, it was time to roll her over and begin with the real lesson.

As I said, a slave owns nothing, has no right to anything, only the privileges it is granted by the Owner. To demonstrate this, I secured a belt, tightened to the extreme, around jenpet's waist With the belt squeezing down so tightly upon her abdominal muscles, it prevented her from being able to reach orgasm. No matter how long or hard I fucked her, she could not cum. Instead she lay there, hands and collar chained to the bed, waist compressed, legs widely spread, being tortured with constant stimulation and endless denial.

For over an hour I fucked her like this, unable to cum, unable to escape. I asked her again and again, what are you?
"slave, property, object..." she would groan Agonized, she begged me to cum, pleading pitifully. I asked her,
"Why do I let you cum? Is it for your pleasure?"
"No, Master," she would pant, "for you... for your pleasure."
"Does it matter if you get to cum?"
"No Master."
"So I shouldn't let you cum?" I asked.
She groaned. "What ever pleases you, Master."

Finally, satisfied that she had learned her lesson, I released the belt. Instantly, she convulsed and began begging loudly and piteously to cum for me.
I asked her, "What begs?"
"slave begs..."
"It begs?" I asked.
"it begs, Master..."
"For what?"
"it begs for permission, Master... it begs for permission to cum..."
"For what reason?"
"For your pleasure, Master"
Thus, I allowed her to, ordering her to cum all over my cock. Shuddering and screaming, she obeyed. I elicited three more orgasms from my girl before we both collapsed into a sweaty mass on the bed.

Lesson learned... at least until the next reminder...