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.