The middle...and the end...

With our first 21 hours whittled away, Master fully intended to make the most of me and our remaining kid-free time. Since i'd been chained to the bed all night, i was feeling a bit stiff, and Master kindly allowed me to get up, stretch and make breakfast - you know, morning stuff. The downside of the second day was the absolute flood of endorphines. my memories regarding the next scenes are very fuzzy and vague. 

Once Master had enjoyed His sausage, egg and Munster burrito and i'd happily scarfed my dry blueberry wheat cereal, Master was ready for the fun to begin in earnest. More rope was applied to me, and i remember loops and loops around my neck, and my hands bound again to my feet as i sat cross-legged. Master used the GiGi on me again. It felt like He kept me bound there for hours, before He took me again.

Master allowed me another shower, and then wanted to put me in the cage again. We'd both enjoyed the extra harsh confinement of it the previous evening that we wanted to experiment a little more with it. Once i was warm again, Master took us upstairs, where he poked fun of me for being excited about the coming torture.  

Instead of head down and ass up in the cage this time, Master had me on all fours (well, as close as possible, given the natural smallness of the cage), and created another clever trap for me. He compressed my breasts with dowel rods on either side, kept me pushed "properly" forward by running a bar across the sweet spot of my ass, trapped my head between two dowel rods for a while, ran one across my back, so i couldn't push up, and two trapped my arms. Where the ass up and head down adventure the previous evening created long lasting fatigue in my hips, legs and lower abdomen, this new cage trap He'd devised created upper torso and arm fatigue (though there was some strain on the legs, it would have taken much longer to build up).

While i was trapped, at His mercy (and feeling oh, so helpless and objectified), Master again took the GiGi out and teased me to orgasm. If one has never experienced an orgasm in a strained, unnatural position - it's like a firework exploding in a steel drum. The reverberations of the big O wash back over you, because there's no way to move the muscles as you might have naturally. i remember being very fatigued and begging to be let out, or have bars removed. i remember Master saying (my favorite) "just another minute" a few times. i also remember i was not graceful, and had a flare of anger at the pain, and Master had to remind me to mind my behavior. 

i was relieved when Master began removing the dowel rods that had held me immobile. Then He demanded that i quickly squirm through the small door and into His bed for His use. i confess, i was sore and sluggish, but after an indulgent 10 seconds or so collapsed in a little heap, i moved as quickly as i was capable of to His bed. He fucked me again, and allowed me more orgasms, though i couldn't spring back up after sex. i was worn out, tired, used up, content and a little sleepy. Master indulged me, and let me lay in His bed, bundled up and covered in sticky.

He came up to remind me that He had to go to work that evening, and because i would be alone, i was to stay naked, work on the blog, was allowed to eat one burrito, and be kneeling by the door when He came home. 

When i finished the first post about what had transpired, i texted Master to ask if i could play Skyrim. He graciously allowed me to play video games while i waited for Him to come home. When He did arrive home, he found me naked, Xbox controller in hand, and semi-kneeling by the door as i had just unlocked it for Him. 

Very soon after He had arrived home, we fucked again, and very soon after that, me and my tired, swollen, well-pounded cunt fell asleep. i think Master played Skyrim before He chained me to the bed. 

When i woke the next morning, we had a scant nine hours left before the return to dreaded normalcy. You know, being not-overtly kinky. And wouldn't you know, my back, on this day of all days, decided that i needed not just lumbar vertebra out of place, but that some thoracic vertebra should be seriously dislodged as well. Laying in bed hurt, sitting in bed hurt, but i tried to be still and quiet so Master could sleep. He woke up anyway. He's either way tuned into me or i am not as quiet as i think i am. Probably both.

He took a bit of mercy on me, and sent me away from bed (after unchaining me) so that i could find something comfortable to do with my back and play Skyrim. (Master spoils me sometimes.)

He slept, and i fapped about in the video game. Not exactly what we'd pictured when we imagined more than 48 hours with the kiddo having delightful fun elsewhere.. But when Master woke up, He asked for a blowjob, so a minor delight was achieved. i continued to play the game for a while. Master read my first blog post, and when i asked what He thought, He threw His pants on the couch and proceeded to fuck me. 

It was glorious, and we loved living the dream, for a few days. (And our little person gave us hugs when he saw us, while we smiled at each other over his shoulder.)

Teh Ebils ov teh Intarwebz

Warning: This is a girlie rant.

Not having internet for so long was an interesting experience. And having internet again is just as interesting. i forgot how persnickity the online community can be, i forgot how much people can get wrapped up in their own rules and rituals and when people who are unfamiliar with them might miss one little thing, they come unglued.

Where's the community in that?

Where's the line between "I want to meet new people" and "you're a fucktard for sending me a message?" Why are those two statements so often intertwined?

Why can't we treat each other with some amount of courtesy?

i don't approve random friend requests on any social networking sites. Master and i talk about who i'm going to add and why they want to be added. If people don't send me a message about who they are and why they're interested in being friends, generally, i don't add them as friends -- but that doesn't mean that i don't spend some time engaging in conversation with them. If they send me a polite message, i generally make an effort to be polite in exchange for their politeness.

When did it start to matter what public community we were involved in?

When did that become a sign of knowledge?

When did that become a symbol of "honor?"

How can honor be questioned at all when you don't know someone from Adam?

Do people think that ten years is nothing?

Do they think that i would blindly choose someone without honor to be my Owner?

i don't know -- it all seems so arbitrary. We ask people to accept us as we are, let us be who we are, with the interests we all have, but we automatically attack someone for not doing things our way, the "right" way.

Ethnocentrism at its finest.

girlie rant over....

From the direction which W/we come...

There are a lot of blogs out there, and some of the titles seem, well, “odd” to me, so i thought that i would explain why Master and i chose to call ours “Roles Defining Rules”.

Though i have known Master for most of my life and have belonged to him for nearly ten years, we, just like any other couple, went through a rough patch which brought us to the decision to visit a therapist a few years ago.

Fortunately, i found his advice to be helpful.

Unfortunately the therapist was not kink-friendly and he gave us a considerable amount of grief over it.

The root of most of the troubles Master and i were having in our relationship were traceable to a certain amount of melancholy funk that i had drifted down into, and had no idea how to correct. Never in my life did i consider that what was going on with our relationship was just me being piteous and selfish, but i was, and that was pretty much 90 percent of the problem. Thankfully, with the therapist's help, i was able to learn how to keep myself from descending too far into such moods, and am still learning not to be so selfish, and Master and i are going strong.

One thing that he had said during one of our sessions was that the kink (which, at the time was not quite a full 24/7 lifestyle) was actually damaging and contributed to my descending funks. That screamed “bullshit” to both Master and i. There is nothing right about ignoring desires, much less a significant part of who a person is. However, we knew we needed help, so we stuck with the therapy a little longer.

The therapist went on to say that the rules of life defined our roles. And that when i “allowed” myself to be bound, whipped or allowed my freedoms to be subjugated both Master and i were breaking the roles that we should be living. He said that Master was no longer my “protector, husband, lover and friend” when we partook in such activities, but a contributing source of my melancholy swings.

In absolute truth, that is the complete opposite of what goes on with Master and i. When i loose my focus, when i refuse to submit, to truly just sink into belonging to Master, the melancholy feelings drag me down and down and down until i am an absolute mess. When Master helps me remember that i belong to Him, that i am His to love, to subject to His whims, i am far away from those moods when the world seems to fall apart around me.

Only when i know absolutely, that things are outside of my control, when Master has everything in hand, when i have to trust, am i happiest. Only when He is what He is and i am what i am, are things right with the world and right in my head.

Since we truly gave into living the lives that we wanted to live, our relationship has grown stronger. i have fallen more deeply in love with my Master and the trust and respect that we have for one another is extraordinarily deep. And while a 24/7 lifestyle isn't easy, we found a way to make it work.

In our case, our Roles as who we are Define the Rules of our lives.

We don't allow the rules of life to define our roles.

If we did – i don't think it would work for us.