There’s this girl I read occasionally.  I’m not sure if she’s a masochist.  There is no doubt her man’s a sadist.  And I can only read her occasionally.

Her relationship makes me cry.

Not because I think she’s being abused, or because I worry about her, or anything like that.  She’s happy in her relationship, and while she damn well may be being abused according to the standards of people who don’t understand owner/property relationships, she consented to what she’s living through.

Her relationship makes me cry because… oh, what Master wouldn’t do to have a girl like her.  To be able to treat me the way she’s treated and still maintain the husband/wife side of our relationship with hardly a hitch.  And definitely not a hitch that came of Him treating me that way.

While I say, all the time, that I want that, and could withstand it, there’s this tiny niggling of self-doubt.  This part of me that thinks somewhere amongst the neglect, and harshness, and denial, and deprivation, I will lose sight of the love, and devotion, and fulfillment, and desire.

Part of me is petrified.  The tears that I war with every time I visit her page are tears of absolute terror, not tears of sadness, or worry, or anger.  Once in a while, Master gives me the tiniest taste of what she lives every day, and five seconds in, I’m sure my head’s gonna fall off.  Five minutes in, I’m pretty sure I’ve ceased to exist.  I’m not really sure where the pain’s coming from, and unless and until He speaks, I could almost swear I’m alone.  Read more…

One of the subjects you most often see discussed on kink blogs and forums is how hard it is to deal with certain parts of whatever life the author has chosen.  Things they could definitely do without.  And I’m no different.  I talk about the hard parts a lot.

I sometimes leave out the things that are really difficult for me.  I don’t even make clear just how hard they are to Master.  Because I feel like telling Him “I wish you’d do this more.” is enough.  He doesn’t need to know how badly I want it to make His decision.  All He needs to know is that I want it.  So making clear how badly I want it feels like manipulation to me.

I’m probably totally off base, though.  I usually am.

I’ve always been an affectionate slut with an oral fixation.  I’ve never been completely disheartened by my partners not wanting to go down on me.  I’m ridiculously self-conscious about my nether regions.  That I let them put their cocks in me was more than they had any right to expect from me.  And I can count on one hand the number of men (out of over thirty) who had a problem with that.  Because I tend to seek out the controlling, self-centered, selfish type.

But I love to feel hot hands and wet mouths and soft tongues all over my skin just as much as the next person.

Master loves to touch but He doesn’t have much of an oral fixation.  Matter of fact, it could be accurately described as nonexistent.  Add to His lack of interest the fact that I tend to piss Him off a LOT, and His belief that putting your mouth on someone is, in some respects, a submissive act (service, if you will), and you can probably guess how many times I’ve laid on the bed while He ravaged my body with His mouth.

For a while, that hurt.  And I think it added to my interest in putting my mouth on Him rapidly decreasing in the beginning of our relationship.  It’s only just recently started to get better.  I’m very much in the habit of “punishing” my partner for not fulfilling my needs.  So if you’re not gonna put your mouth on me, why the fuck should I put my mouth on you? Sans orders, that is.   Read more…

Three words that grate on my nerves so bad I actually have to count to ten before responding when I see them.

Passing the buck. Shirking one’s duties. Denial of responsibility.

Three phrases consisting of three words that I want to respond with.

So many so often say things like “It’s not my fault. He’s the master.” and “I have no control therefore I have no responsibility.”

I’m sorry but I call bull shit.

These relationships, just like any other, are two way streets.

I understand taking that point of view when it comes to something you’ve been trained to do. An odd way of taking out the garbage. Ignoring someone who doesn’t deserve it. Wearing mismatched clothes. Read more…

�Suck on these.� He growled as He shoved His fingers in my
mouth. And I did. Fervently. Relishing the taste of myself as more fingers
roamed over my body and fucked my pussy.

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I canâ??t get my head into anything. Even my favorite blogs
seem bland to me. Iâ??ve gone through porn shot after porn shot, because the
problem is my dripping, trembling, quivering pussy, and nothing sates this
incredible hunger.

Read more…