No More Talking:

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Expectations and Frustrations

Time has not been my friend lately. There's been very little time for Master and i, and what there has been has had the unfortunate burden of a slave's expectations.

Master's last day off was a great example...of a lot of things. i desperately wanted a snuggle with my beloved Master as we settled in to watch Iron Man for the first time ever (missed it in the theatre, unfortunately), but Master wanted to snuggle with a slave who was trussed in rope. Despite the fact that Master was being kind and using the lovely nylon satin ropes instead of the evil Sisal rope, i could not move beyond the hurt that i created by building expectations of the rare times we have together.

After all this time with Master, i should remember that my expectations should be couched as requests...and frankly, never become expectations in the first place. After a lengthy discussion, regarding expectations, who should have them, what i should do with them, and being reminded over and over again that topping from the bottom is an absolutely prohibited behavior, we settled in to watch the movie.

As time schooched by, i became more and more tired. Late evenings are not my friend, despite the fact i sometimes battle with insomnia. Because of Master's new work schedule (which i hate, hate and hate) midnight is his early afternoon, and while His slave wilted with exhaustion when the movie ended, He was still needing something from me.

Something that i have been struggling with often, of late, is what to do with the anger and frustration that well up within me when Master asks something of me that raises the selfish creature that dwells within me. And i struggled, at that moment. i was exhausted, tired beyond patience, and frustrated that on those rare days that He has the opportunity to be home with me, i become more exhausted than the other days.

So, there we are, Master needing either a warm cunt or a talented mouth, and a pissy slave who is frustrated and angry.

i wanted to throw something. i wanted to break something. i wanted to lash out and say something cruel. i wanted to curl up in a ball and ignore the world for a peaceful eight hours. The first three are flatly, absolutely poor behavior. The last is delusional.

i swallowed my frustrations, swallowed my anger, and gave Master the rarity of a blowjob. He swears that i hate them, and is saddened that i don't volunteer them more often. Why did i choose to give Master a blowjob? This is what He wants to know. This is why He asked me to write about this.

(For the record, i don't hate blowjobs. It's very intimate and a joy to bring someone to ecstasy by exploiting the generous helping of nerve endings that make up our sexes. Far more intimate ─ and in some ways more "touching" than sex. i don't volunteer to give Master more of these treats because He has a fantastically awesome girth and lovely length, and with my smallish jaw, well...it seems to me akin to attempting to ram a half-inch screw through a three-quarter inch cap nut.)

But back to the question at hand, why did i give Master a blowjob instead of offering Him a warm cunt? i simply did not trust my mouth to not be busy. Every question He asked me during my display of oral talents fueled my anger, driving me to work harder at sending Him into ecstasy, into the toe curling bliss a blowjob often takes Him. Because He'd ask less questions if He was busy breathing, gasping and wiggling on the sheets.

Afterwords ─ it was ironically easier to truly accept and swallow my issues. He knows as well as i do the frustrations of our lives. He understands exhaustion, for different reasons, maybe, but He knows it well. Sometimes the frustrations and anger that stems from the world outside our door get to Him, too. The best we can do is be who we are.

In that moment (when I was thinking my Master should try drinking pineapple juice), it was easier to simply accept that i had to trust Master and let go of what i expect and of the frustrations and anger that build in me because of life. In that moment, Master and slave were at peace with the world, anger and frustrations melted away in the afterglow.

Pay the whore...

An interesting time has come upon us. I have, for nearly the breadth of my ownership over my lovely little slave, considered her to be a whore for private use. Time and time again I have brought this out in her, delighting in her begging to be fucked and to taste my cum. I see it in her desperate looks and grinding hips. I hear it in the panting breaths and her dog like whimpering.


However, the time has come for my little whore to be paid. Or more appropriately, to have her earn her keep. She is no longer the little office pet, the strong willed and opinionated woman who returns home to heel at my feet and wear my collar. Now she is the little house slave, whiling away the long hours until my unfortunately lengthy return. Now she finds herself restricted to an allowance; and one that, for the most part, she must earn. I have never before taken the pleasure of stuffing a handful of bills into her well used mouth, and I have to ask myself why I have waited this long. Her cock sucking skills have definitely improved over the last year and I find that tying her performance to her pay has greatly helped her desire to take my cock.


For now, the privilege of being fucked and used like the little slut she is, is not conditional upon her pay. I would hate to pay her for something that she can't get enough of as I would go broke in no time. Also, I feel that that particular privilege should remain entirely at my discretion, it helps keep my little cunt in line.


However, the things that she seems to struggle with the most are perfect places to impose this particular condition. My slave wants to be paid, then she has to offer her ass to the harshest paddle, or lick my cum from the tiled floor, or piss in a cup or bowl and wait to see whether or not I make her drink, or offer her asshole for use. Hmmmmm, my dulcet little slut slave may never look at payday the same way again. ;) In the mean time, I will continue to make my whore "work hard for the money":D...