The Sizzle of Pleasure

During my recent visit, I subjected my willinglittlepet to electric torture using my tens unit and Tazapper. This is her account of that session:

Master asked me if there was anything that i was wanting to do before he came to visit me. We had been talking about electric for a while and i decided that now was the time to take the leap. As i sent the message, i was filled with nervousness and excited. i went to bed early so that i would be fully rested for Master’s tortures. 

 

The anticipation built as there wasn’t time to try the electric box that evening, it was set for that morning after we had breakfast. That morning i was in a good mood, i had seemed to have forgotten about the impending torture. After finishing up our meal, Master went to my room to get ready. i cleaned up the kitchen as best as time allowed and then i went to my room to undress for Master. He groped me some as i took off my clothes. Master took off the collar i wear every day and placed the heavy, metal one around my neck sealed with a large padlock. Looking in the mirror, i felt so beautiful with the ring of steel encircling my tender throat. 

Fifteenth Anniversary!

It is our Anniversary today! Not our wedding anniversary, or our first date anniversary. But the anniversary of creature's enslavement. Fifteen years ago today I gave myself the greatest early Christmas present ever and collared this sexy little slut.

My creature has been my slave longer than she has been my wife, having celebrated our 14th anniversary this passed September. And I am happy to say that at this point, she has been my collared slave for over half of her life. My rule, my word, and my will has governed her life, her every decision for the entirety of her adult life. It is a monumental thing to consider, being property for more than half your life. Brings a warmth to my cold heart.

Though I am very excited by reaching this milestone, our celebration will be far less grandiose than I would like. I had discussed doing a more professional styled photo shoot for the both of us, but timing is against us at the moment. With Christmas expenses, I have not the funding for even a fraction of the fun items I would love to use on my beast. The kiddos have a cold and their care is wearing both of us down a bit, meaning that our wild sex orgy will have to be put on hold. But such is the nature of life, and just because we cannot go wild, doesn't mean that we will let this day pass without enjoying each other in what ways we can. Nor that I am without a present to drive her wild. We did replace our long dead personal massager with a new Magic Wand with variable speed control knob. And after a quick test run, I can guarantee I will be making her move with this one! 

Here is to another wonderful and happy 15 years of Ownership!...

Updates

It would seem I have two real modes of writing on this blog. Not writing because nothing is really going on, and not writing because there is so much going on that I don't have a moment to spare. Either way, I feel as if I cheat you, dear readers, of the updates of our adventures. So, by way of an early Christmas present, and by ways of an apology, I offer this post.

It has been a fantastic ride recently. With the addition of my dear willinglittlepet to our lives, things have rather fallen into a comfortable norm for me. I expect that both of my slaves text me with their daily movements, and additionally I expect a good morning and goodnight text each day from pet. I have to say, she has taken to it rather well and I enjoy looking through the messages on my lunch and breaks at work. 

Personal visits have been a treat too. I imagined, what with all we respectively have going on, that our visits and play sessions would be limited to one, maybe two, a month. However, we have been able to make pretty regular visits, both play and just hanging out with the family, this whole time. I believe that the longest lull was about two and a half or three weeks long. Most importantly, it is a very comfortable situation, not straining one party or another to maintain. With the holiday fast approaching, schedules are beginning to look pretty tight. So, with that in mind, we adjusted our plans a touch and I visited pet this past weekend for our second overnight stay at her place. No kids, few distractions, no roommate this time either. 

Adjusting

It's been an interesting few months.

Practically since we moved, Master had a good job and life was pretty awesome. We met pet, and she's fun, a bit of a bookworm, likes watching Doctor Who with us, and wonderful for Master. Then, his job became toxic. It seemed like it turned overnight, but really I'm sure it wasn't. Master talked with his bosses a lot, tried to make it better, took vacation time to try and soothe the bad parts of the job… Of course, it didn't get better. Master talked with me about the options – and I hated seeing him get sick, physically and mentally, for months, over things he couldn't change.

So he left the company. We have savings built up, and were sure a job would come as soon as we needed one to. It did. It’s a job – not nearly as awesome as the previous company’s client, but it’s a job. The best part was, we had a whole month off together. We crammed in as much fun as we could and tried not to stress the small stuff.

But Master’s back at work, and it’s hard. I’m angry because…I’m lonely. I still have not made any new friends here (I’m an introvert – and good at being introverted, which makes it very hard to make friends), I’m pagan (a lot of people here are not), and the people I am friends with…well, they aren't parents. Our youngest is starting to really enjoy self-entertainment, which means I maybe could do some painting…if there was space to do so, but logistics are against me – I am sure Master doesn't want his bed covered in oil paint and thinner. I feel too much hurt a lot of days (extended family sorrows), paired with hopelessness, and I know my fuse is short and grace is outside of my reach.

I feel bad because…this is not how I want to be. I want to fix the troubles I’m having, but I see no (current) solution…and so I go through the motions, and try to find a shred of grace for every moment…

I am lonely. And I withdraw more because my spark of hope is very small, and only have a few subjects which are pleasant to discuss. So I try and remember the positives: that Master and I did enjoy a whole month together with a number of kinky nights, that Master found pet, that there is a job that keeps the bills paid, that things do change and that leaves the possibility of better wide open.

Ass Punching...Yum

After more than 10 years, you’d think I’d understand my inner masochist. I like thuddy impacts, no, sting is better, no, thud. Awwwww…insert expletives.

Seriously, I avoided single-tails because the impact of stingy floggers made me cringe and flinch, drove me out of subspace and maso-space, and in general, made me feel bad. But Master picked up a Dragon Tail made by Victor Tella, and that was challenging, but heavenly. Our first trip to Thunder in the Mountains, Victor Tella was one of the vendors, and we picked up twin signal whips, and oh, how I love them. There’s not enough space to use them at home, but oh, they are lovely.

So between heavy, thuddy floggers and sharp stings from single-tail like toys, I should like it all, right?

Hah. Poor Master.

Lately, I’ve been craving some whooping, and Master is, of course, more than happy to oblige (and a quick aside: how many subs and slaves would it take to wear out Master’s arm? I would like to know, because he gave pet one heck of a whooping and had plenty of gusto left for his creature.), so once he had me immobilized in ropes, he started in on my backside with one of my classic favorites: leather gloved hands.

Oh, yum.

And then he punched me. In the ass.

I liked it.

So, he figures I’m sufficiently warmed up, so he starts to apply other implements. Paddles. Canes. And each one of them drove me right into not-fun-pain. On the first impact. Because I have no safewords, and because I’ve struggled with many issues in the past during beatings, he expects me to communicate, find words and help him navigate the tricky headspace that exists inside his creature. So I do.

“Master, I don’t know why, but that’s feeling really not good.”

It’s frustrating for him. His sadist can enjoy me not enjoying things (especially when we play with fear), but when it comes to impact play, there’s a fine line for him; if I’m being driven into anger instead of pain, it’s no fun.

So he punched my ass more. And it was hot. I could tell that there was a lot of force behind them, and he later told me they were simply straight punches, with none of the proper twist and pop. I twisted and squirmed quite a bit, but I liked the feeling of his leather gloved hands slamming into my body. Some blows were delivered to my legs, but mostly they landed on my hindquarters.  I wanted more punches, but I also wanted him to plow into me…

After, my hind end was so very, very sore. But no marks. No signs that he punched me in the ass for about half an hour. It hurt to sit. It ached when I walked.

Master said he hates the fact I don’t mark easily.

Three days later, the first signs of bruises appeared.

My ass still hurts. And there are faint little bruises.

Life is good.

pet's Perspective: First Night with creature and I...

 Here is the long awaited account of pet's first night together with both myself and creature...

Master was kind enough to ask me if i was cold before commanding that i strip for him. i pulled my dress over my head and folded it to put away. i got down on my knees, waiting for him. creature came out of the bathroom and Master asked her what sweet things she had to wear. creature replied by returning to the bathroom and putting on a wonderfully pink bra. Now upon the floor lay both of Master’s slaves in just their undergarments for him. Master stood over us contemplating the sight and decided what he wanted to do first.

To begin, we were both adorned in chains that bound our legs and arms. Then we were both sealed in darkness as Master teased us with his voice. He ordered us to scoot close to each other on our knees. We placed a knee in between the others legs and i could feel creature’s warmth start to surround me. There was nudging of heads which lead to our first kisses under Master’s command. Meeting each other’s lips under the blanket of darkness soothed me and excited me. Hearing her soft moans filled me with such warmth, it felt wonderful feelings her entangle her mouth with mine. We kissed for several minutes, although i felt i could get lost in the dark and warmth forever.

Master then commanded creature to lay down. Master then had me be “sweet” to her nipples. i sucked on then for quite a while as Master enjoyed watching from above us. Then i started to realize that creature liked it more when i was a little bit rough with her. i teased her gently with my teeth and i could feel her milk drip into my mouth. i then felt Master’s hand start to undo my bra and pull off my underwear. Master lubed up and ass and i felt the cool touch of metal against my bare skin. He asked me if i was ready and i replied yes, trying to concentrate on creature as he filled me. Then he fingered my already soaked cunt, i was able to concentrate on pleasuring creature for a bit. But this Master started stretching me with four of his fingers and i started moaning so much. At some points i lay on creature’s chest, unable to do anything other than moan and shudder. creature nudged her face closer to mine, her breathe felt so good on my face. As i got to my tipping point, i felt her arms wrap me into her warmth and then i begged Master to cum. i erupted, moaning against creature. i so loved how she touched me, there was such care in it.

Then Master took out some puppy toys and he threw them for us to retrieve for him. This was the first time i have ever done puppy play and i must say i enjoyed it very much! creature and i got to play tug of war. Growling at each other as we romped around with the rope toy was so much fun. Master eventually wanted us at his feet where creature and i showered him with love, climbing up his legs to our ultimate prize. i so enjoyed pleasing Master with her, i still felt so much like a puppy. creature then took control of the camera and i finished Master on the couch. This apparently gave Master ideas because he then ordered creature to put on the strap on. i was extremely confused with what the plan was as i knelt before creature. She sat on the couch with her legs spread to me. Master told me to “go to work” and i giggled a bit before trying out the bright green plastic strapped to creature. Still in such a puppy mood, i started to chew and tug against the dildo. creature and i laughed as Master continued to situate his scene.

i felt him kneel behind me and start to pull out the anal plug. He massaged me and then started to insert something much larger. i turned around to see i was sporting a short black “tail” which i, or course, had to shake a bit. Master then started to fuck me with his cock as he moved the plastic black toy in rhythm. i moaned intensely as i struggled to concentrate on continuing my work on creature’s green plastic appendage. i kept myself on the edge as long as i could, but it felt so amazing being filled. i begged to cum and was happy when Master gave me permission to erupt. This was such an amazing moment since i had been talking for Sir since we met about how badly i wanted to be filled.

creature then went to enjoy a wonderful shower and Master and i moved to the bed. He had me lay down on my back, my legs and arms spread wide. Master teased me with a whip for a while until he was ready to fuck me. He commanded me to straddle him and i climbed on top getting ready to ride him. We laughed and moaned for quite a while. Master making me erupt in orgasm over and over again. After a while when i was starting to feel sleepy, Master suggested a shower.

Before adjourning to the bathroom, Master asked if i wanted to be doubly penetrated again. i moaned yes please and got on all fours to wait for him. Master retrieved the black anal plug and started lubing up my ass. He filled me with the toy and his cock and started to move them in the same rhythm. It felt so amazing that i felt like i was about to cum right when he started. i held off for as long as i could then begged Master for permission to cum. He granted it and i shuddered and moaned, truly spent at that point.

Master and i then got ready to use the shower. He grabbed the cuffs for the shower and set them up as i found the right temperature for the water. We stepped in and Master soaped me up first. i love when he cleans me, he gives me such joy. The best thing though, is when i get to clean him. Master handed over the shower poof and started to lather him up. i love running my hands over it body, cleaning and caring for him. After we were both clean, Master bound my wrists to the shower wall. i loved how helpless i felt with my arms over my head. Master teased my exposed and tender clit, making me cum several more times.

When we were both done drying off, Master and i sat on the couch and enjoyed the chocolate cake that was left from the dinner Master, creature, and i enjoyed. It was a wonderful way to end the night, i felt exhausted and satisfied.

Rambling rambles...

It has been a little while since I have posted an entry, and I wanted to share some of the fun we have had. I try to focus this blog upon our kinky adventures, but we also try to show the reality of the Owner/property lifestyle, the good and the bad. The bumps in the road and the moments of smooth sailing.

Recently there has been quite a bit of good, and I am very grateful for it. As we have posted recently, we have been joined by my willinglittlepet, my collared second slave. It has been a very delightful and rewarding experience for all of us thus far. Oh, the kids have kept us from having much play time together as a group, but we have had at least one night all together to play in a hotel room. The connection between the three of us runs deeper than just the shared interest in kink, play, and my ownership of them. My girls share interests in common in reading, spirituality, interest in rocks and stones, food (though not the patience for more time intensive recipes), etc. Delightful and beyond my hopes.

Since that night in the hotel, the pet has spent the night in my bed twice now. Bound both times, of course. In chains. The first night, we were all together; me, my creature, and my pet. The second time was this past weekend, the night of her first trip to the Sanctuary, and that time it was just the two of us. What a fun night was that. Such a cute little pet of mine. I bound her for the ride down, a short chain locked under the car seat, shackles and handcuffs padlocked to the chain. As an added bonus, a pair of painted in sun glasses, a public blindfold. We had a great conversation and the occasional reach over grope. 

Owning her has been quite a pleasure. Given that she lives in a near by town, there is a component of distance but also frequent visits to allow for training, play, corrections, or what have you. For the distance aspect, the pet is required to text me, as creature does, whenever she leaves one location and is headed for another. Additionally she is required to text me at bed time and when she wakes. There are certain rules she must follow throughout her day, but for the most part, I have not dictated much regarding her schedule or day. My pet is young and in college, has friends and family and as such has some degree of autonomy, however, she is always to consider how her actions would reflect upon me. Sort of a guideline in lieu of specific rules.The pet wears her collar, an identical metal ring to creature's, each day but I allow her constant access to the key if it needs to be removed for family or functions.

The pet's friends have been supportive of our situation, even those that are not inclined themselves. Either through curiosity or just friendly caring, they have come to understand and accept that she is my property and what that basically entails. Some have even been kind enough to take pictures of the marks I have left on her, and oh have there been some marks. A couple of her friends have their own interest and have been talking about putting up a Fetlife page of their own. I keep eagerly anticipating this, though have not seen one yet. 

Even the logistics have worked out beautifully, better than I had thought. From the beginning, pet was introduced to the whole family. As far as the children are concerned, she is another family friend that comes over on occasion. The creature will take the children out on errands or visits when the pet comes over for play. However, my eldest has begun to ask questions of her visits; "What is she doing with daddy? Why are we leaving and she's coming over?" The curiosity of babes. As a result, we have had to adjust. When the pet came over this past weekend, she had to text me when she arrived and wait outside for me to come down. When we came back, and she spent the night, the next morning we had to sequester the children in their room so that we could say our goodbyes. It was hard and felt wrong. The whole point was to avoid her having to be a secret. I know it is temporary and the creature is right when she says that more opportunities to have the pet over for dinner and just hanging out time will make it easier on him. 

Still, given all the potential complications and challenges, this has been an incredible adventure and I am so grateful. Here is to many, many more adventures! Stay tuned, dear reader...

Escepades

It was a busy, lovely, weekend. We were fortunate enough to have someone we trust with our children suggest an overnight. It was our little girl’s first overnight ever, so there were lots of nerves on my part. (Turns out she was better able to handle it than her big brother ever handled his first overnight.)
 It was quite nice: Master and I picked out a hotel, then wandered the mall together (we even got a few Doctor Who things, but Master didn't let me go shoe shopping!!! Nuts!), Pet was able to be in the same area as we were, we met for dinner, and the evening was spent in so much play…Master-Reaper and Pet didn’t go to sleep until nearly 3 in the morning! Crazy people! ;)
Despite my uterus being a complete fucktard (3rd period in the space of 7 weeks, yay!), I did manage to get in on a little of the fun. Pet has an emerging puppy self, and it was really fun to romp around the hotel room with her as a pup, competing for the ball or the rope bone (and Master’s!). I know there are other female puppies, but I’ve never been well poised to be involved with their play in puppy-pits at events, so it was a new experience for me to romp about and compete at fetch. In the past I’ve played with kitties, but they definitely aren’t as rough and tumble as pups – heh – and I just can’t imagine getting in a tug of war with my favorite kitty – she’d be all shaken up from that, and I am not an intentionally mean pup… Pet and I growled and played tug of war with each other, snapping up the rope bone, and trying to steal the ball from each other. Master was trying to be fair and toss it evenly in the small space…. It would be lovely to be able to play in a larger environment…something else to look forward to.
It does amuse me that though I have a “no furniture rule,” for some reason, my pup self never remembers that rule during play – when I turn the game into a bit of keep away, I wind up jumping on beds and couches – when I’d tugged away the rope bone and leaped on the king sized bed to get a bit of victory, it was lovely to be in that puppy space and rough-housing with another pup.
But that really did me in, and following that, I can’t really remember much – it was pretty glazed over with pain. (Not to whine or anything, but when I had my c-sections, that was nothing – even when I’d only taken an ibuprofen  or two, I’d only rate my pain on a 5 or 6. Every time Aunt Flo comes along, I’m sobbing on the floor and can barely function, and my pain rocks up to 7’s and 8’s – what gives, uterus? I know you’re “abnormal” and everything, but…quit it! I’m missing whole chunks of my weekend because of you!) At some point, I fell asleep on the floor and the sounds of Master and Pet perforated my dreams.
It is a weekend I’ll be thinking of fondly for quite a while. Master has some pictures and videos that will probably be showing up on his FetLife profile soon.

lots to say, and snu snu

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pet's Second Visit - A pet's Perspective

A day spent with Master

i walked to his door carrying the objects he had asked me to bring along. As i entered Master’s home, i was able to give creature the book i wanted her to borrow. i also included a recipe that i wanted to share with her. Master, creature, and i were able to talk and eat for a couple hours together which i enjoyed quite a lot. After a couple hours in, creature left to go on the visit she planned, taking the children with her. This left Master and i alone, with hours and hours to spend together.

Master ordered me to strip for him, i took off my clothes, leaving the panties i had carefully chosen for him. i enjoyed having Master look at me and photograph me. Eventually i stripped down all the way for Master and got on my knees before him. This lead to us snuggling and kissing for a while, it was so nice having Master hold me. i love snuggling with him, it makes me so happy. After a while Master said that we should head upstairs so he could place accessories on me. We both agreed but still snuggled for a moment longer. Master told me to walk on his left side, a bit behind him. i was happy to practice this and work to make him proud. Inside Master’s bedroom, he started to adorn his pet. He placed on me a large collar that i chose and then started to decorate me with chain. i enjoyed the chain quite a lot, the cool feeling of the metal was exciting. More pictures followed the chaining.

As i stood before Master, he started to play with me. Master looked into my eyes and talked about a topic we had brushed over earlier, cumming on command. i focused on this as he spoke to me and i was able to cum at least once. This is something i am very excited to work on. Sometimes it is difficult for me to cum immediately, i enjoy forcing myself to a point where i can’t control it. The idea of cumming to Master’s command thrills me so much.

First Meeting, her Perspective

 I wanted to introduce my sweet willinglittlepet. This is her first, but definitely not last, blog entry here at RolesDefiningRules. Here, she discusses her perspective on our first meeting together...

Walking to the front door of the restaurant, I was nervous. Trying to trick myself into being confident and then I rounded the corner and spotted Master-Reaper. Upon seeing the man who had been delighting my mind I was still nervous, but it was a richer feeling… I wanted to give into the fear. The initial meeting was exactly as our online conversations had been, comfortable and open. Soon Master-Reaper decided it was time we go back to his home to get to know each other even better.

I was able to meet his entire, wonderful family whom welcomed me with open arms. We all talked together, I delighting at the time to finally see the beautiful woman who graced all the photos I had stalked on Master-Reaper’s FetLife page. The meeting smoothly transitioned into just Master-Reaper and I in his bedroom. I got down on my knees to wait for him to retrieve the camera that lay downstairs, just out of our reach. When he turned the knob, I felt my face erupt into a smile at his return.

Master requested I move closer to him and I happily did feeling his hands gentling touching my face. His hands on my drove me wild and I felt myself tremble as he explored my clothed body. After he was satisfied, I removed my clothing for him. I lay down on the floor as he tease my pussy still covered by the thing cloth of underwear. Master told me some other positions he wanted me to use and I practiced and showed him them. 

New Little pet...

So a few posts ago I wrote an entry called "Interesting Times" in which I mentioned how I was contacted by a dominant who wanted me to train his long distance submissive. I had mentioned that our first encounter had not taken place as a result of illness, but that I was very interested in meeting this young lady. 

A couple weeks later, and I had considered that the arrangement had fallen through and I didn't expect to hear from either of them again. However, just this passed Sunday, I did get a message from this lovely young lady. She had parted ways from her dominant at the time, the one who had contacted me for the arrangement previously mentioned, and that she still really wanted to have the chance to meet.

Well, I have to say I was a bit surprised, but I was extremely interested in meeting her and seeing what there might as far as opportunities between us. I wrote her back and within a day we were chatting up a storm. It was delightful talking about all the things she wanted to experience, what she had done up to this point, and even a little bit about where she wanted to end up. As a college student, the amount of time she could safely consider dedicating to any arrangement would be tied to her degree program. But that gives us the potential for up to two years of opportunities! How can I pass that up?

Up to that point, she had not been introduced to Fetlife. So I had her create a profile, willinglittlepet on Fetlife. We agreed to meet, much as we had discussed before, at a local diner. A public, safe setting for us both to get comfortable and enjoy a nice meal and get to know each other. Should everything go okay, which it definitely did, we would then head back to my place so she could meet my slave, our kids, and then share our first foray into fun. Just as planned, we met mid week, shared a lovely meal, and, as we were both comfortable with each other thus far, we did go back to my place. 

Love, Terror

So, as we've shared, Master took some vacation time and we had a stay-cation. There was lots of awesome. Time for play, time to watch some of our favorite TV shows together, and time to spam FetLife with buckets of pictures and videos (at least on Master’s profile). It was awesome.

One night Master threatened me with the stun gun. He uploaded a video of me rolling around on the floor, trying desperately to get away from the thing. Something we all run into in the kink community (and on FetLife) are folks who don’t see why we might be enticed by something, and edge play, especially of the terror & fear variety are widely looked at with…disdain…at best. In fact, a FetLifer commented on said video: “That just looks wrong. There is nothing but terror in her eyes.”

Maybe we need to state it in our profiles, or slap it on every picture, but Master and i are edge players – we do think of RACK (Risk Aware Consensual Kink) when we play – but we play on the edge, really hard, and our favorite is psychological: terror, fear, phobias. Because we have known each other so, so, long, and have built our trust to run deep and strong, i feel safe playing with my fears and terror with him. i trust my Master with my life, in a way that i will (probably) never trust anyone else. So we play with those deep, dark corners of power exchange.

i get off on being terrified. i want to be afraid. i blatantly tell Master all of the things that make me scared (okay, most of the things), in the hope that he will find a way to use them against me. When he bought the stun-gun, i told him the noise was scary; and i was rewarded by seeing the sadist’s eyes glimmer with delight at the thought of my fear. We have had that thing for two years, and he’s never once touched me with it when it was lit up. He just turns it on so i hear the snap and crackle, and makes me think he’s going to pop me with it. Someday, he will pop me with it, and then maybe i won’t be afraid of it anymore. That actually makes me sad. So right now, whenever he pulls it out, i soak up the terror it instills, i drip with terror, wondering if this is going to be the time he actually makes contact. i let my body experience the desire to enter fight or flight, while my brain realizes there is no where i could go (or would want to go) to escape, and there’s no chance of winning a fight. The best part is that Master gets off on it, too. He likes making me afraid, likes seeing me squirm and plead. He likes that when we have sex when terror play is involved, i am dripping the evidence of my arousal. He even likes putting me back together after he’s taken me apart like that. It’s what we do, and i think we do it well.

That night was hard; he really did take me apart, between the stun-gun, the electro-sex box, and the things he said to me while he fucked me. i was a sobbing mess, it was hot, and i can’t wait for the next time he can make me so terrified that people i don’t know would be able to recognize it in my face.

After, he told me i was a good girl. He touched me and held me. i examined all the nooks and corners of my brain and found myself at peace, contented, relieved, in the wash of a cathartic release from the terror. Some people get that from the floggers and the whips, but for me, the best cathartic releases come after terror.

So plainly put... i <3 terror, and so does Master.

The Milking

I suppose it has been a long time coming. Little hints along the way, pointing to the obvious culmination of all our little lactation jokes cresting on the horizon. I've kept her producing, even though our little one no longer breastfeeds. The tits are all mine again! And I keep them hard, firm, and full of milk. 

It fuels her thoughts and desires to be a simple animal, kept and of use. The slave wrote a bit of fiction, a story of being reduced to nothing more than a cow. Placed on all fours, her voice stolen by a gag, hands wrapped tightly into hooves. He places a pail under her udders, telling her of the coming humiliation. He wraps his hands around her breast and works her engorged flesh. The milk sprays into the pail with an audible hiss. He laughs as her body reddens at the sound, a blush of humiliation from head to toe. A deep, long moan escapes the gag. He continues, forcing the milk out of her, spraying it into the growing puddle at the bottom of the pail. 

His unforgiving grip elicited uncontrolled mewing, her bosom heaving with her growing desire. Milky moisture building at the gateway of her wagging sex as he milked her dry. Her udders grew more and more tender with each crushing caress, bringing tears to her eyes as the final droplets fell with a resounding plink.

I had enjoyed reading her story quite a bit. It struck me every bit as the the culmination of our animal play and constant breast engorgement efforts! It started as we were laying around in the living room together, the children playing games, my hand down my slave's shirt massaging her tender tits, the first droplets of milk soaking between my fingers. I worked the tender nipples, causing little sprays of white cream to lance out. It delighted me, twisting them to spray her in the face, watching her lick up the mess from my hands. That sealed it. 

As soon as the kiddos were tucked securely in bed, I brought my cow to the room and began the transformation. On her knees, I wrapped her hands in Vet wrap to seal her fingers into helpless hooves. The slave had placed her recently purple dyed hair into delightful pig tails and they swayed enticingly as I finished the application of the wrap. Next, a tender kiss to her trembling lips before forcing the large, soft ball of the leather panel gag into her mouth, buckling it closed around her head. I forced a test moan or two from her packed mouth with a squeeze of the dangling nipples. The metal rings around her wrists and ankles were bound together with double ended clips. The final touch, a bell attached to her collar rang out with each struggling  movement as I pulled her into position over the metal dog dish, my substitute pail. 

Her udders dangled beautifully over the glint of the awaiting metal dish. I took them into my hand, working my fingers down the length of the tit. I enjoyed her whimpering at my touch. The first droplets began to fall, dripping into the dish. My fingers worked her swollen glands, deeply massaging the tissues as milk began flowing into the bowl. Oh how she moaned, that deep longing groan. 

      "Such a cow!" I teased her. My slave's hips bucked. I reached back around her ass, slipping an exploring finger into her puffy lips. I was not surprised in the least to find her dripping wet and hot to the touch. "Just a beast," I chided. Again, she mooed her desperate need. But we still had a long way to go. I worked her nipple between my fingers, the flow growing to a heavy spray, ringing into the metal dish. My cow quivered as I brought her attention to the sound. Again and again, the spray shot into the dish, occasionally overshooting the edge and soaking into the carpet. 

Eventually, the flow on the first tit ebbed and my grinding touch brought the last, tentative drops into the bowl. The cow whimpered piteously, thumping into me with her hips. 
     "I'll let you know when I'm done, cow," I told her, rolling her nipple between my finger tips. My slave sobbed as I pressed on.

With the last of the secretions drained from her reddened flesh, I allowed her a moment to rest before we started the next side. The cute bell jingling as she pulled eagerly away from the bowl. I enjoyed the noticeable difference in her udders, the worked tit sagged in comparison to her unmolested breast. I teased her bell, flicking it with my finger, enjoying the blush in her cheeks, bound beneath the gag strap.  



The break came to an end and I instructed my cow to return to her position. Instantly, she obeyed, crawling back over the bowl as her bell cried out at her hobbled movements. My fingers found her eager flesh and I began the milking on the other side. My cow slave mooed and moaned as milk poured from her tit. 

Hot cream filled the bottom of the dish, the level rising as time passed. Eventually, the milk began to run dry in the other side as well and her hip grinding and moaning were having such a delicious effect on me. As was the sight of her being milked like a heifer at my feet. Just my little animal, thoughtless and humping; a creature. 

I flicked her nipple, sending the last droplets spattering into the bowl. My cow whimpered and twisted her hips, trying to escape. With a final slap, I let her collapse to the side of the dish, trying to sooth her well worked udders against the carpet. The defeated groan that escaped her trapped, compressed lips was delicious. I turned my attention to the bottom of the dish, enjoying the sight of her cream sloshing in the bowl. It would make a nice treat for the cow. 

But first, it was time for me to get some use out of her. I pulled her onto the bed and had my way with her until I was satisfied. During that time, the cream had had a chance to cool under 

the constant blowing of the AC. It was time for my cow to enjoy her treat. The gag had been removed while using her, and she licked her lips while looking at her secretions. 

"Are you ready for your treat, cow?" I asked, placing my hand on her neck, the bell ringing at my touch. She smiled, and I pulled her down, bringing her face to the bowl.
"May I," she asked, and I nodded. There was no hesitation in her tongue as it lapped at the cooled cream. Lick after lick, her milk was consumed until she was licking the bowl clean, pushing it around with her effort to get every last drop. Finished, she looked up at me with a wet smile and a smudge of white cream on her nose. 
"My good cow," I said, patting her back side. My slave beamed up at me with her broad, moist smile before wiping her face on the carpet. 
"How are these?" I asked, gripping her dangling udders. She groaned, pulling her arms in tight. "Well used?" I added, and she nodded. 

Spent, she turned and collapsed at my feet with a final jingle of her bell. My sweet cow slave, drained in so many ways, cuddled up to my legs and sighed her contentment at being used. After all, she is just an animal...

my Bear

the lines of Him are soft,

fluffy and furred

as He sleeps like a giant pillow;

grand to cuddle,

and perhaps a little squishy.

but it is a lie.

misconception.

a facade.

subterfuge.

a fable.

what builds the core of Him,

is strength and sinew,

flashing fangs and cutting claws,

might and speed, cleverly hidden

behind the softness.

though He is kind, maybe tender,

He is also hard and sharp,

drinking fear in other eyes;

when they see the truth of Him,

as He protects it for His own.

the strength of Him,

is palpable beneath the soft subterfuge;

though the full measure is best shown

as He devours suffering,

bringing His strength to bear.

oh, believe the fable,

miss the chance to see the depths,

feel the fangs, claws,

or touch the stretching strength of Him,

the truth behind the Loving Monster.

                                  ~ creature (first draft, July 2014)

Milestones

i already don't remember a whole lot from the other night. i do remember feeling odd as i could hear Master-Reaper and our friend speaking about me as if i was a thing while i was mostly out of earshot - catching only fragments of the conversations while settling the house for the night. When the house was quieted, Master let me have a energy drink...i took it to his room and stood as far away from the door as i could...i was feeling terribly nervous. i'm very shy, and while i generally feel pretty good about how i look, i tend to loose my confidence in the presence of other people and in front of the camera. Both came into the room with Master.

Master made it a little easier for me though - and pulled the satin blindfold over my eyes, wrapping me in darkness. i remember feeling as if i was shaking like a leaf. i remember moving and listening to the camera clicking away while Master-Reaper looped ropes around my breasts. It was, at first, odd to realize that we actually had a third person in the room who was taking pictures and videos. It was also humiliating for me. We have known our friend for many years, though mostly kept our interactions to a fairly superficial, vanilla and geeky sort (Dungeons and Dragons for the win!); having him witness how deeply i long to be tormented and used, having him see Master-Reaper turn me into a frightened, writhing, happy beast...was...a shock. (See, it's Master who is the exhibitionist around here.)

Then my memory quickly becomes vague. Did Master rummage through his closet before he bound my breasts or after? Did he begin lubing my asshole before he and our friend voted that i needed stripes? Did i have to count, or was that later? How long did he push at my cervix with a dick-on-a- stick; was it forever or only a few minutes? Did i scream when he first started pushing the bandito (an anal probe with a cock ring that we've had forever, but have barely used) into me? Did i howl with frustration when Master had his cock through the ring and i couldn't get the bandito deep enough to feel more than the tip of Master's cock in my cunt? Did i move with that thing intruding upon me, or did i merely tremble around it? How many orgasms were there? How long had the camera been recording video instead of clicking away with pictures?

When Master added our friend to the scene and sex - was he as surprised as i was (though i've known for a while that Master's inclination to share had been growing)? When his hands seized my hair, did i jump as if with an electric current? Was my surprise evident in the way my body twisted around Master's cock, the bandito in my ass and our friend's cock down my throat? When i was emptied of the invaders, did my desperation show? When Master whipped my cunt and legs, was my lust obvious? When Master bagged me, did i cry and wail? Did i panic and thrash, or did i accept his control?

And then, hearing "Good girl" and having candy balanced on my nose...and being told to shower...and then being allowed an evil treat...a cigarette (the first one in...years?)...on the porch, in the night air, luscious smoke curling over my ravaged throat, mingling with the scent of the men who had their way with me... Four hours of sleep later, i'm still processing...trying to remember more...and trying not to hump the floor.

The Box...

The following is an original work of fiction. Given my propensity for creating such works, I have a surplus. It dawns on me that I should probably seek a publisher and make these writings work for me (to feed my kinky addictions). If any of you dear readers have any suggestions for publishing options, please email my slave at junderb at g mail dot com.

Out in the middle of nowhere, along a long stretch of a all-but-forsaken highway, lies a farmer's field. It stretches out under the scorching sun for what must be miles in each direction. The ground is flat and dry and hot under the constant pounding of the sun. It is between the growing seasons and the crops have all been long harvested, the new seeds yet to be planted. Occasional clouds of dust would be kicked up by the wind and dance its cyclonic dance before dissipating as suddenly as it started.

In this field, there stands a lone, solitary, single box. Nearly four feet tall and nearly as wide on both sides, with a peaked roof, it is a wooden box with sheets of metal tacked to it. What paint there might have been has long been dried and sand blasted off by the wind; the wood looks faded and as dry as the dirt around it. The sun glints off the metal plates, shining for miles in all directions. For those driving along the forsaken highway, it must stand as a momentary curiosity. What is the purpose of this box out in the middle of this field? Who would build such a box? Why would they tack metal sheets to its sides?

But the box would just as quickly be forgotten as the horizon stretched on for the weary, hot travelers. Forgotten, but ever vigilant over the fields on either side, a lone centurion. Very few would ever guess the true purpose of the box, and even those that would dream up its cruel purpose would scarcely believe that anyone would actually use it for such a purpose. “Who would really do that sort of thing anyway?” they would likely think to themselves.

Along the only stretch of road the divides the two fields, comes an old pickup truck. The antiquated metal springs that serves as the shocks of this truck squeak and screech as it bumps along the old dirt road. It is the only sound of significance on a day like today beside the occasional call of a hunting falcon. A cloud of dirt and dust fills the air behind the truck like a wake, blown gently by the late morning breeze. The truck heads toward the lone box with some intent.

Using my fiction against me...

So, Master, for the first time in forever, has taken some real vacation time. It’s glorious! We’re not really going anywhere or doing anything (missing Thunder in the Mountains again this year); but we are enjoying being together…in carnal ways and in the silly ways, too! Plus we don't have to lug our massive toy collection anywhere this way.

A while back, i wrote a few pieces of erotica – really short ones, only 3 or 4 pages written by hand – and Master liked them. He liked them enough that some of the thoughts were incorporated into a play session during his first real day off…wrapping my hands in vet-wrap (first time we've actually used the stuff -- and offhand, it’s pretty awesome), and then used the last of the roll to keep the inflatable gag in (being able to hyper-extend my jaw aggravates Master to no end). It’s amazing how quickly i sink into an animal mindset once Master has taken away the use of my hands…the leather hood went on after that, along with the leash and a set of nipple clamps. i sat there, on my knees and “paws,” just breathing in the silence and darkness the leather hood wraps me in.

Then he knocked me over. This was the part of the story i wrote, so i knew how this game worked…His amusement as i struggle back up on to all fours. Over and over. Once the chain between the clamps was trapped beneath one of my knees when i got back up; if he’d noticed, he might have laughed, but since i couldn't hear or see, i don’t know if he did. When he was bored with knocking me over, he had me struggle up on to his bed, where he held my face down while he pried my cunt open with a speculum and shoved a lubed up dildo up my ass. Then he fucked me; cross-eyed, probably. i lost track of orgasms, and for a while, i was too blissed out to even remember how to ask him for permission. Sometimes it feels too good to hang out over the edge without going over, anyway. Somewhere along the way, he’d taken a short buffalo hide scorpion tail whip (it’s all of 12 inches long, i think, maybe 20 with the handle) and applied some stripes to my hind end – it’s sore, but dollars to doughnuts, i won’t be marked by tomorrow. After he’d fucked me into oblivion, he must have finished himself… When i was aware of my body again, he’d already taken all the vet-wrap off and was putting away the things that didn't need to be cleaned. 

It’s these moments where i really feel content; moments where i feel terribly, irrevocably owned. No matter how hard it was for me to endure the panicked breathing, or the sharp pain of the clamps, or my desire to get away from the anal intruder, or whatever it is he's doing to me…there is no escape. He is bigger, stronger, faster, and he will get what he wants…which is exactly what i want and what makes me drip and lust for more of him. 

Interesting Times...

Interesting times these. As I have written before, the children have made our kinky life so consistently inconsistent that it's hardly been worth blogging about. As a result of this, I have been going Kinky Stir Crazy. That is not to say that we haven't had our opportunities, as those who follow our postings on Fetlife will recognize. Some recent play with rope and bags and the cage in pictures and videos. As the littlest one ages, our opportunities increase and that ever present hunger sets in for some fantastic times. 

In between those times, however, lie the stir crazy moments. So much desire, so much need. I keep looking for someone to play with. The overall goal would be to have someone long term and permanent, but in the mean time, just having someone to play with... A friend with benefits, casual encounter, trainee sub, what have you. I have reached out to the local scene, munches, messages to Fetlife peoples with "is looking for:" fitting what I would offer, and even been down the the play parties at the local club. And overall, I have been disappointed in the response or experience. 

However, the other day I received a message from a a fellow Fetlife member offering for me to act as a trainer for one of his subs. An interesting proposition to come right out of the blue, but certainly one that holds my interest. The young woman travels through my town regularly, apparently, and her training would encompass a range of focuses, complete sexual use and full photographic rights. We had set a meeting at a local restaurant and arranged the details from there. Always important to provide safe arrangements when meeting someone new. Though, due to illness, she had to cancel. A shame, but we'll soon see if the opportunity provides itself. Should it, I am looking forward to meeting this young lady.

Which raises an interesting question: how likely or possible would it be to lend out my services as a slave trainer? Part time submissive, online/distance slaves, traveling. This is not the first request I've had to train a distance slave, but it is the first time I have considered it to be legitimate. Using my home or friend's place when able, or the convenient hotel; offer training in protocol, positions, poise, pain, discipline, etc. How wonderful would that be? I get my fix, expand my photo archive, build my resume, and reputation within the community, and improve my fellow owner's property. Branch out, meet, beat, and fuck new people all over. 

Now... how to advertise ;) I suppose the viability of this option will be proved, or disproved, by the success of this first attempt. Here's to hoping. What do you think? Would you send your property to be trained by someone else? To expand their experience and hopefully enrich their submission? Would this option be exclusive to only distance/online submissives or would it apply to all relationship types? Who would you trust your slave to?...

A case of the blahs...

We are not good at blogging lately. There's not been a whole lot of time, really, between everything that needs our attention. There are definitely things we want to blog about, but...just can't seem to get to it.

For one thing, i picked up a horrible cold. i had it the worst -- our oldest kidlet had it the second worst, we wound up taking him to the doctor (and Master was mad that i didn't also go to the doctor for it), our littlest kidlet had a cough and some sneezing but was otherwise fine, Master had some coughing and ear trouble, but probably fared the best.

Anyway, as i came out from under the fog of illness, i was under the impression that the cluster headaches and migraines that were plaguing me were related to sinus pressure. i'm not so sure that's the case anymore, as it's been more than a week since i felt any remnants of the cold, but the cluster headaches and migraines are persisting. Pressure does seem to have some effect on causing them, but not always. i've had these awful headaches most of my adult life, although not with such frequency, and i've learned how to work around them...mostly.

But i think "dealing with it" on my own is coming to an end. There's too much, between the headaches, migrating pain and extended periods from hell. While my knowledge of homeopathic remedies and herbal treatments work (to an extent), it still leaves me with little energy for everything else. Which is damned inconvenient for Master.

Hopefully, in the next few days we'll actually be able to blog about something cool, rather than some piddly whining like i've done today.

So-you-can't-medicine

It's been hard for Master and i to find time together. If our oldest munchkin is soundly sleeping or elsewhere, our little munchkin is not. That's further compounded by the weird schedules around here (seems like none of us are on the same schedule!!), the fact that i had a tooth extraction (i am a big crybaby), and that i keep coming down with a bug that causes stupid coughing fits. But we've been trying. So. Hard. To find that time we need.

Last night, we had a small miracle. Both munchkins were asleep, i'd already taken some stop-the-coughing-sneezing-so-you-can-sleep medicine, so i wasn't hacking up a lung...and Master decided sex would be more fun than getting some sleep. So he shoved me out of His bed, put a pillow under his knees to avoid rugburn, and the awesome sex began. 

It was awesome. It felt really, really great, for him to be smashing me into the rough carpet, grinding me against it, and...i could "see" that edge, before the precipice of the big O...and it just never got closer. Master kept grinding me into the carpet, and i knew that normally, i'd already be crashing up into that edge and begging his permission for the orgasm...something was weird. Master asked if i needed to beg, and i told him that i wasn't going to get there...So he questioned me while he pounded me into the floor beneath him; what was different? 

The only thing we could come up with was the cold medicine. i have never, ever (never, ever!!!) had sex while i was doped up on cold medicine. (This is mostly because i don't like taking medicines in general - i usually turn to homeopathic remedies first.) He laughed at me. i could see that big, beautiful O, just out of my reach, and he laughed. 

He finished, we cleaned up, and he let me back into his bed. i lay there, wrapped in his arms...and it's not that i am unused to being unfulfilled, because he does it fairly often (as often as he allows fulfillment, i suppose)...but there i was, unfulfilled, and making silly noises. He laughed some more, and played with the girly bits, telling me i had 30 seconds to get there...and i could tell it wasn't going to happen...

i really don't like cold medicine. i am hoping we have a small miracle again tonight, and i am not going to be taking any of that stuff. 

Ten Minute Touch Therapy...

So I found myself home unexpectedly the last two days and, unlike yesterday, our littlest one decided to take a nap. Now, when I say take a nap, I mean my poor slave took the little one upstairs and placed her into the baby jail and let her scream until she finally fell asleep. Not exactly soothing. 

So when the text came that she was down, I went up quickly hoping to capitalize on the moment. My poor slave has been so frazzled the last few days and all that wear and stress showed in her form. Now, last night there was the faintest hope that we would have the chance together. A hope that was, as usual, not fulfilled. I know the slave had intentions, be it bondage and sex or what have you. But today, as she knelt there on the floor looking numbly up at me there was no intent and very little hope, just need. I know how the depression of stress can taint the mind. I asked her what it was she wanted or needed to have. Bondage? Sex? Torment? Being bound and hooded, left without little hands pawing at her or screaming in her ears? 

My slave responded with one word. Well more of an implication of a word that she had used the night before. Touch. Simple moments being reduced to an object in my hands, feeling the heat of my body pressed against her. This was communicated by her burring her head in my chest and remain unmoving. We had little time so I ordered her to strip and get into the bed. Oh fantastic side note, the slave surprised me after a shopping trip last week or so with black satin sheets. Normally, items purchased outside the list sent with her make me raise an eyebrow and often a swat or two to her bum. This, on the other hand was a most welcome treat. Earlier today she had cleaned upstairs and placed these new sheets on the bed. I intend to get a few shots of them, with some lovey garnish of course. I digress. 

Onto the bed she climbed, immediately burying herself into her blanket. I laughed, and retrieved the blindfold from the drawer and a length of rope from the shelf. I pulled the blanket from her and slipped into my bed, caught instantly by the surprising feel of satin against my naked body. Cold but so soft like liquid metal. So delicious. I ordered my slave to sit up and face the other direction as I bound her hands behind her back. The blind fold was pulled over her eyes next, sealing her into a world of feeling and sound. I pulled her down next to me and she fell into my arms, pressing her naked body against mine. We lay like that for a while, entwined, her helpless in my grasp. It was heavenly, an instant of just the two of us. I love the feel of a naked woman, grinding against me without the use of her hands. Making love with every part of her body in the absence of the most prominent appendage of touch. I, of course, had every intention to spread her legs and mine my pleasure from her. My fingers found her wet and hot, an eager tremble coursed through her. Just a perfect moment. 

A moment that ended with the sound of our stirring little one. A depressed sigh in unison is an interesting thing and something that my slave and I share more and more often. The little one's nap lasted no more than fifteen minutes from start to finish and our unity less than ten. However, it helped. We could both feel it. Another brief stimulant to get us through this drought. Now, to repeat this therapy for two or three sessions a day every day and we might just find our selves being okay again...

Public Service Announcement

And now for a word on addictive habits: I do not have many vices. I don't smoke, I don't drink, I don't do drugs and have no interest in doing so. I don't gamble. I don't participate in the destruction of public or private property, and I don't revel in antiestablishmentarianism. Even I have to ask, just what the hell do I do? Am I some kind of straight-laced, white bread, goody-two-shoes? A stick in the mud? Of course not. Despite the fact that my laces, when I have them, are indeed straight (a trait governed by my OCD thank you very much), and I do, in fact, prefer white bread over wheat. And yes, I do have two good shoes (why would I put up with anything less?). And I have, on occasion, been stuck in the mud. 

So where, exactly, do I allow my self to cut loose and exercise the darker aspects of my soul? I'm sure the answer is no surprise to you, dear reader. Sex. That glorious and varied playground of physical and psychological wonderment. The vice that exercises nearly every aspect of the entirety of a person, and provides a development unlike any vice mentioned above. And I am an addict, utterly obsessed.

Lust, that most potent of vices. Driving desire, heightening the senses, altering the perception of time and space. My drug of choice. The high that keeps on giving. I have spent hours chasing that dragon; lost in a multitude of my own scenes, downloading porn videos, reading erotica, sifting through picture after picture on Fet, blogs, tumbler, and favorite sites across the web. I live it every day, when the kids allow. I see it everywhere I go.

Honestly, spending time in public is painful. When I see a pretty little thing walk by and my mind wonders at her talents. I envision rope wrapped around her frame and chains hanging from cuffs around her wrists. Imagining her following at the tug of a leash behind me. I have to look away, only to see another and another and yet more. A sweet misery, and as is appropriate, I have to share with the slave. It's fun to see her reactions and know that she is just as afflicted as I. Together we have moaned our way through many a store, or park... or restaurant... or bank lobby... or... Come to think about it, just about everywhere. Oddly, not at the Department of Motor Vehicles though. But, I digress. 

One of the most difficult aspects of this addiction for me is work. I have a rule, I do not play at work. It causes too many potential issues, too much gossip, and a mess that is not worth it, no matter how delicious or obviously interested or likely a perspective play partner may be. Which is hard, of course, for two reasons. With our kiddos I don't get out much for socializing or play and as such work is really the only place I spend enough time with other people to get a feel for who they are. The other reason is that a friend of mine from the local scene also works in the same building and, knowing my interests, will introduce me to others in her department who share our predilections. Being polite to a fault (I don't even partake in rude behavior as a vice), I smile and talk a bit about their interests, all the while the rule screams in my mind like a siren. Who knows what fun I am denying myself, loosing out on that one vice that I crave, because of that rule? And yet, I still feel it is best to keep it intact... No matter how much it pains me.

Even now while writing this, I am perving pictures on my phone, like an IV drip sustaining me throughout the day. A necessity as without it I am likely to drag my slave up stairs by a handful of hair, bind her in metal cuffs, and relieve my desires with her again and again. A scenario that is well within my purview as her owner but not with regards to our children. And so I am relegated to sating my cravings in what small ways I can, usually multiple times a day... locked behind closed doors... alone. And it is never enough. As my girl tells me, even if we had a whole week without the kids, dedicated to these desires, it would not sate me. Maybe she's right, but how can I be sure until we try?

I have considered pursing a career in porn, but then I just laugh and laugh to my self. It is hard enough at the moment to get a couple of quick snapshots with my phone in the scattered and brief moments I do get to use my slave, never mind the planned and involved scenes I aspire to. Then there's having children. Take your kids to work day would be a nightmare and require years of counseling. Taking my work home with me would result in much the same. As it is, I cannot have friends over for a simple meet-and-bind because of them. Hell, our friends won't even come over for simple gatherings. The isolation of parenthood I suppose. 

All that, and I hardly have the abs of a porn star. Cock, yes. Abs, no. Also, you know what they say, when you take a passion and turn it into a career, it becomes a job and why would I ever want to tarnish such a perfect obsession? So yes, I have considered it. I put that in the same category at the moment as astronaut and pirate as likely career goals at this stage in my life. I do hold some small hope of becoming more of a figure in the kink world, a presenter or what have you. But porn star, not so much. 

So, for now I suppose that I will have to keep taking what opportunities I can and suffer through the withdraws. As our little one ages, I am sure that things will normalize. I was even all set to go down to Denver for last night's Sanctuary club get together, and had the slave not just had her molar removed (see my previous post) I probably would have. That is something I could not have considered just a few months ago and next month I am definitely going. So, there is hope on the horizon, even if only the faintest hint. 

This has been a Public Service Announcment...

slave Maintenance...

As with all possessions, sometimes a slave needs a bit of maintenance. For some time now we have been planning a trip to the dentist for the girl and now that our little one is weening off of breast feeding (yes, I'm finally getting my tits back), it was time to take her in. The slave was quite nervous, she hates the dental experience and I have to admit, this made me eager to see her squirm. 

Yesterday I took her in and we began the process. An imaging scan and initial exam let us know just how she has been doing. There was a trouble-some molar that needed to come out and some other work that needed to be seen to. All in all, not bad. They scheduled an extraction for her this morning. Oh you should have seen the anticipation roiling just under the flesh. How anxious she became as time drew nearer and nearer. Now I usually will drop her to her knees and shove her face to the floor is she gets uppity with me, but in moments like this when it is obviously the result of nervous fear, I tend to cut her more slack. Though, admittedly, I will subtly add to her concern by mentioning little things here and there. I enjoy the fear in her eyes, flickering like a wind blown candle. 

I had every desire to bind her, strap her down to the dentist's chair and watch her squirm and whimper as they went to work. Sadly, our dentist does not allow for that option. Besides, someone had to stay with the baby, after all. So, no comfort found in the helplessness of bonds. Also, given the very small chance that something went wrong, her collar needed to be removed before both trips, to be returned to her neck the moment we returned home. Not even the comfort of her collar to be had in the face of dental work. Poor slave. 

When the moment came, she was quite the trooper and followed her would-be tormentor willingly to the back room. I also had a tooth removed some short time ago and as such am intimately familiar with the process and the recovery. To my surprise, however, her extraction was not near as difficult as mine. The dentist did not need to drill into the side of the tooth to get a good grasp. No needles were broken in the effort to numb the tooth's nerve. Nor did the dentist need to all but place a knee upon her chest to yank the bastard tooth from it's bed. It also took a fraction of the overall time to remove her trouble-some molar. 

The slave returned from the back room with even a hint of a smile on her lips. Masochist. The localized anesthetic used creates such a false sense of pain management. It wears off slowly, letting the pain soak into the very bone. Not sharp pricks or pangs but a throbbing, dull ache that drills itself into your consciousness. You become fatigued as if sitting up straight is too much to manage and sitting still is near impossible. It hurts too much to get up and walk about, but your legs don't seem to get the hint as they work restlessly beneath you. The slave's smiles and energy began to drain from her as we risked a trip to the store after the procedure. The first droning of pain began to hit her as we wrapped up and headed out of the store. By the time we were home, it was really beginning to show. Still, ever my trooper and eager to serve, she spent the rest of the evening going back and forth between laying on the couch, with kind permission of yours truly, and managing the house and kids. 

Despite the weeks of healing to come, and the fact that those coveted stolen blow jobs between naps are not in our immediate future, the tooth's removal has already improved my slave's mouth and she feels a significant degree of relief. And I, though again sacrificing my beloved blow jobs to the pyre of maintenance, feel that same degree of satisfaction one would have after taking a car in to have the brakes replaced or the oil changed. Relief and satisfaction. My property properly maintained...

Turn, turn, turn...

Somewhere between now and New Year's Day, i became another year older. Master and i had hoped that we'd find a little time and we'd be able to sneak in a birthday spanking, but alas, it has been postponed.
All of us turned up sick.
But we nibbled on cinnamon rolls, drank green tea, consumed cough drops, caved and used over-the-counter medicines to make the coughing and the aching stop, slurped home-made chicken noodle soup (with spinach!) while whittling away time by playing video games together. Switching between a multi-player we swore we'd never buy (Minecraft for the Xbox 360) and trading the controller as we played/cheated through some of Grand Theft Auto IV (stealing virtual cars amuses me).
It wasn't the birthday i'd dreamed of, nor the birthday Master hoped i'd have...
But i loved it...because i was with him, and we laughed together.
The real present (that delayed spanking), well...it'll come.