Thursday, July 9, 2009

a conversation with S

S is the man who inspired this blog initially. He's the one who managed to turn me into something totally different than what I was when I first became involved with him just over a year ago. Our relationship lasted eight months and I mourned for about two months after it ended. We spoke yesterday.

Him: I never stopped loving you.
me: (burst into tears upon hearing those words) Don't say it if you don't mean it! Please!
Him: (in a very calm and even tone) your Master never stopped loving you. You never stopped being mine and you never will. I own you. I'll always own you.

Oh God, what am I getting myself into. This can't possibly be a good thing. * sigh *

Friday, July 3, 2009


My dear girlfriend told me that coping with heartache is all about distraction. She's advised me to get out there and have fun... find someone who will make me feel good about myself, make me feel wanted, make me feel attractive, make me feel sexy. Essentially, she thinks I need my ego stroked in order to help cope with the heartache. It won't make the pain go away, but it will dull it - at least temporarily.

So I've decided to take her advice. There are two new dominant men on the radar. I haven't met either yet, but we've been corresponding electronically - via emails and live chat through messenger.

Mr D:
- about 15 years my senior
- currently lives about 5 hours away, but is considering relocating to my city for career advancement purposes.
- single
- no children
- I'm not sure I'm physically attracted to him - I'll have to judge that in person

Mr M:
- only about two years my senior (that's a little young for my taste)
- relatively local (he lives about an hour away)
- single
- I'm definitely physically attracted to him

Mr D plans to visit some family in my area next week. We will meet during that time - a platonic meeting just to gage our chemistry. We'll see how that goes.

I only started communicating with Mr M a few days ago. I know little about him and I'm not sure when we'll meet. No plans have been set yet. We'll see how that goes.

The distraction feels good while I'm being distracted, but I still think very much about the one who I thought would change my life (he was Mr J.R.). I still hurt and am still terribly confused about what happened. I don't know when I'll be able to let that go.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

last attempt

I made a last attempt at communication last Friday. I sent one last email. There will be no future attempts. I cannot continue to bang my head against a brick wall. And, quite frankly, it hurts to much to be treated like I don't exist and don't matter. It hurts too much to be completely ignored by the man who taught me that I was submissive eleven years ago and who has been a dear friend for the last ten years. It hurts too much to see that the one man I had placed on the highest of pedestals... the one who I thought was "the one" is not behaving in the worst way possible.

At this point I no longer expect to hear from him. I'm not checking my cell phone or my email as often as I was. Eventually I'll stop checking altogether. Now I just need to give myself whatever time needed to heal from this emotional and psychological fiasco and do my best to not blame myself for the result. And then I will move on... move forward... learn from this and choose more carefully next time (although how much more careful can I be? I have known him for eleven years.) And then maybe the next one will be a good one... a true one... a genuine one. We shall see. In the meantime, this is a time for healing.

If I had known that this would have been the end result... if I had known that you would have disappeared from my life completely without any kind of explanation or notice, then I would never have told you that I wanted to be your submissive again. I would have continued to be silent about the way I feel about you forever if I had known that the alternative would cause me to lose you completely. I would have rather lived with my secret forever and kept you as a friend than opened up to you at this cost.

I have wanted to be yours for many years. When you said to me, "I only wish I could be the one to make you happy", I took that as an open door... an invitation... and I took advantage of that opportunity - the opportunity I'd been DYING to have for YEARS - and started opening up to you about my feelings. Opening up to you turned out to be the worst thing I could have done.

I never imagined that you would abruptly end contact without
notice or explanation. I never imagined that the last 10+ years meant so little to you... that I meant so little to you. I never imagined that you would share your thoughts about a future together with me and my daughters and then very suddenly end all contact like I never existed... like those words were never spoken. I never imagined that you would have me call you Master and you would refer to me as YOUR submissive/slave but then treat me like I was yesterday's trash.

I've been trying to figure out what happened. I've been trying to imagine what you could possibly be thinking that would lead you to conclude that handling the situation in this manner would be a good idea.

- Maybe the idea of an instant family suddenly set in and scared you
- Maybe you realized you aren't attracted to me
- Maybe you feel I wouldn't be a good enough submissive to you
- Maybe you need some time to think things through
- Maybe you're forcing me to take some time to think things through
- Maybe you've decided you really want to focus on advancing your career and not have to focus on maintaining a relationship with me
- Maybe you just wanted your ego stroked temporarily and were never really interested in having me
- Maybe you've found someone you prefer over me

So many maybe's floating through my mind. I can't stop thinking and wondering what could have happened. Yet, no matter what possibility I come up with, none of them explain why you wouldn't just inform me
of your choice or situation. Why wouldn't you just contact me in some way and simply say, "Hey, listen... things have gotten complicated. I need to work some things out. I'll contact you in a month (or six or never)" ?

You specifically told me that our friendship would remain intact, no matter what happened.

You spoke of collaring me.

You spoke of our future together, including my daughters.

You told me we would spend time together.

You told me I was welcomed in your home and in your arms any time.

You told me you crave me all the time.

You told me I was precious.

You told me you would never damage a precious one.

And now I'm left wondering which of your words were genuine and true. I'm left wondering if any of your words were ever genuine and true. And, more than anything else, I'm left wondering how I could have felt so much for someone who seemingly doesn't exist.

What happened? Please just tell me what happened.

Monday, June 15, 2009

so much confusion

Who the hell are you? And what have you done with the man I knew and adored for the last ten years?

What the hell is going on?

How does one go from talking about a future together... to not talking at all for over a month?

What kind of person establishes a routine of daily contact and then suddenly no contact at all without any notice?

What kind of Dom instructs a submissive to call him "Master" and then completely neglects her?

How did you become the kind of person I never imagined you could possibly be?

How can you possibly be so inconsiderate, disrespectful, and cruel when I always believed you to be the exact opposite of those things?

Will you ever contact me again? Or are we just done completely and without any explanation?

If you intend to never speak to me again, then just say so - even if it's without an explanation... so that I can get over this and get myself together again.

Thursday, June 11, 2009


Today marks exactly four weeks since I've heard anything from him.

He was supposed to be a positive part of my life, not a source of pain. I don't need more pain and confusion right now. I've got enough of that in my life without him.

I never imagined he, of all people, could do something like this. I don't know what to make of it. We've known each other for ten years. How could he possibly treat me this way?

So if this was a test, I guess I failed it... because I give up.

Sunday, May 31, 2009

always with me


I was at IKEA today shopping for a few things. I stopped to look for a particular plant in their plant section and stumbled upon their pet section. Out of the corner of my eye I saw some leashes and collars hanging from hooks. I immediately thought of you and then I giggled... right in the middle of the IKEA pet section I started to giggle out loud.

The leash and collar set that caught my eye was bright green and had white flowers on it... and I thought to myself, "Master would kill me if I brought something like that home for myself." I think it's cute, but I'm guessing you'll think it much too girly and silly for your taste. Am I right, Master? (please see photo below)

Always thinking of you,
your sweet one

Saturday, May 30, 2009

when the soul wants, the soul waits

Still no contact. Sixteen days without any contact... and counting.

I'm trying very hard not to lose my mind, but it isn't easy. All of the unknowns make the control freak in me more than a little uncomfortable with this whole situation.

When will he return?

When will I hear from him again?

Where is he now?

Is he safe?

Am I being tested for patience and self-control?

Is this an exercise in training me for patience and self-control?

Am I being punished?

What kind of behaviour is acceptable under these circumstances?

What behaviour is desirable under these circumstances?

I've tried calling his cell a few times in the last week and the phone rings, so I'm fairly certain that he's still safe. I'll be worried out of my mind when and if his phone gets disconnected. I just hope that my attempts at contact will not be seen as punishable offenses... or offenses at all, for that matter. I wouldn't be this out of control if I knew when this will end... or what's going on. But then it wouldn't be much of a test or training on patience if I knew what to expect.

It's easy to be patient when you know exactly what's coming and when it's coming. Not knowing what will happen or how it will happen or when it will happen is a much bigger test of and exercise in patience. Perhaps that's what's happening here. After all, he knows I follow orders very well. So there would be no test if he were to tell me to sit tight for three weeks (or whatever arbitrary time frame). I could do that very easily. I would still miss him terribly, of course, but I could do it without losing my composure. So there would be no test or training involved in that scenario. This scenario, however, is definitely testing my patience.

On the other hand, if this isn't a test or a training exercise and if he is simply too busy to contact me then I'll be a little disappointed. I haven't been expecting daily contact. I was simply expecting an update when his trip went much longer than anticipated.

For now I need to focus on this being a test or training exercise (regardless of whether it is or isn't) and do my best in dealing with my overactive imagination and emotions.

Friday, May 22, 2009

when you are your worst enemy

I feel forgotten. I know I haven't been forgotten, but I feel that way.

The last contact I had with him was a very brief text message on May 14. That was over a week ago. The last contact I had with him before that was a wonderful conversation on May 9. That was two weeks ago. This isn't typical. We typically communicate daily... several times per day. That isn't possible right now because he's out of town.

I was warned before he left on May 8 that he would not have his cell phone turned on while away and that he would text me once or twice to update me on what was going on out there. So I should be ok with this... right? Right. Except that I'm not ok with it. That's not entirely true. The truth is that sometimes I feel ok with it and I feel the strength of our relationship... the strength of his integrity. Other times my insecurities kick in and I feel horribly frightened by the lack of contact.

There's a part of me that wants to be the perfect submissive. That part is screaming out to just sit tight and believe in him. That part tells me to relax and that he'll contact me when it's time to contact me and he'll be home soon. If he was done with me... if he no longer wanted me, then he would say so. We've been in each others lives and have developed our bond throughout the last ten years. You don't just throw that away with avoidance. So I'm trying to sit tight. I can usually talk myself into sitting tight, but it only lasts a little while before I have to give myself that talk again.

Then there's the other part of me that frightens easily. There have been too many men in my life who have been dishonest and who have lacked integrity. My painful experiences with those men have made it difficult for me to trust those who are trustworthy. It makes me feel disappointed with myself because I know I shouldn't make this man pay for the mistakes and crappy character flaws of others. So I continually remind myself that he is not them. I continually remind myself that this man has never been dishonest with me in all the years I've known him and that he has always been caring and genuine. I need to just keep reminding myself of that over and over and over again and hope that these feelings of doubt will dissipate over time.

What I SHOULD be doing in his absence is figuring out ways, on my own, to be better for him. I should be researching and brainstorming for ways to impress him and please him upon his return. That is where my focus should be and that is where I will be reshifting my focus as of right now. I told him I wanted to make him happy and I need to show him that those words are more than just lip service.

Friday, May 8, 2009


Lots of people refer to submission as a gift. I don't agree with that notion. My submission is not a gift.

A gift is given to a person with no expectation for anything in return. When you give someone something, it becomes theirs to do with as they please. They can make use of it as you intended or they can have it sit on a shelf and collect dust while it is completely neglected or they can re-gift it to another or even discard it. And you don't take a gift back - that would simply be very poor etiquette!

None of those would be an acceptable way for my submission to be handled. If my submission were to be handled in those ways, then I would most definitely take it back. When I choose to submit, I do it with certain expectations. That leads to another statement I've heard from others - submissives don't get to have any expectations. Oh, but I beg to differ! I have a few expectations - we may even call them conditions. Yes, yes... my submission is conditional. Now you get why I don't think of it as a gift.

I expect my hard limits to be respected.
I expect my soft limits to be approached with caution.
I expect my owner to invest in our relationship - with his time, attention, and necessary training / teaching to help make me a better submissive for him and to make our relationship a successful one.
I expect my owner to make choices that are in the best interest of our relationship.
I expect my owner to be consistent - to say what he means and to mean what he says.

That last expectation has been on my mind lately, but I'll come back to that after a little recap of the overall situation.

I am currently "in training". I don't really agree with that concept because I think I will always be in training because he will always be pushing me to learn more and teaching me new ways to please him. The distinction of being his "sub in training" versus simply being his submissive was made because current circumstances do not permit me to submit fully to him and those same circumstances make him refuse to make me his completely. So I am in training until the appropriate changes can be made. So, for the time being, very little is expected of me. When he asks something of me I'm expected to do it, but he really hasn't been asking much of me at all. As a matter of fact, I've only been given three tasks (easy ones, at that) in the span of a month. I'm expected to be respectful at all times and obedient at all times, but that has never been an issue for the ten years I have known him. The one thing I AM struggling with is having patience and learning to walk before I attempt running, but I'm working on that.

Although he demands little of me at this time and I expect little of him at this time, I DO expect him to fulfill that last expectation on my list. I expect him to say what he means and to mean what he says for the simple reason that it builds and solidifies trust. So when he says something as simple as "We'll talk tomorrow morning before my flight", I count on talking to him tomorrow morning before his flight. When morning comes and goes and I don't hear from him nor am I able to reach him, it saddens me and makes me feel a little heartbroken. Of course, I understand things happen and life sometimes gets in the way of plans. However this is more difficult to accept when it happens repeatedly.

You see, his words are gospel to me - or at least they should be. So every time he doesn't do what he says he'll do, his words lose a little bit of value. And now, after this has happened about a handful of times in the last month, I am beginning to doubt him. For example, I told a girlfriend today that he left for his business trip this morning and that he had told me he would text me a couple of times during his trip to let me know what was going on. I followed that statement with an "we'll see"... which shows doubt. I shouldn't be doubting his word. I shouldn't be doubting him, but I do because there have been times when he hasn't followed through (for legitimate reasons) with his word.

My fear is that I will get to the point where I don't trust anything he says. Once I get to that point there's no turning back nor moving forward from there.

Sunday, April 19, 2009


I finally made it through the one-hour-plus drive to his house. I noticed that the closer I got, the more I felt that little ache - like a fire in my belly. He had told me to go right in; the door was unlocked. I opened the door while balancing a paper bag with the burger and fries he asked me to pick up on my way, a large paper cup with his Coke in it, my keys, and my purse. It was my first time there.

I stepped in. The place was a mess, but I was expecting that. He was rebuilding the home and in the midst of construction. Furniture and tools were everywhere, the floor was unfinished, the walls were unfinished, etc. I stepped in and whispered a tentative "Master?"

"Lock the door so we won't be disturbed." Did I detect a different tone? A firmer tone, perhaps. I wasn't sure.

"Yes, Master." Again, I struggled to balance everything in my hands and locked the door.

"You'll want to keep your shoes on."

I walked around the wall that was keeping him from my sight and stopped breathing for a moment when I saw him. My heart beat faster and I was, once again, filled with a feeling of intimidation mixed with arousal. He was laying on the bed, wearing his black leather pants and a white shirt. I loved the way he looked in those pants. I love the way they smell. I love the way they feel. I approached slowly but deliberately, certain he could see the intimidation in my eyes and my demeanor. I held out the bag and drink and asked where I should put it. He sat up on the edge of the bed and took them from me to set them down. I placed my purse on the floor, next to the couch and then turned to face him, feeling exceptionally nervous as I met his gaze.

He motioned with his hand and with his head that I should kneel before him. I whimpered and started to pant as I dropped down on my knees between his. My palms rested on his thighs and I grinded my hips when I felt the softness of the leather surrounding his muscled thighs. He held my head with his hands and tilted it downwards so that my gaze fell on the floor and he instructed me to not look upon his face unless I'm granted permission to do so. Then he reached beside him on the bed and brought forward a leather collar with leather leash attached. He removed the leash and placed the collar around my neck, then re-attached the leash. I moaned with desire.

"It looks good on you."

"Thank you, Master."

Then he did the same with padded leather wrist cuffs and a padded leather blindfold - all black, of course. He asked me to stand. I obeyed. He spun me around and attached my wrists together behind my back, linking the cuffs together with a leather criss-crossing hogtie device. With my hands bound behind me, my back arched and my breasts pushed forward, he wrapped his arms around me from behind and caressed my ribcage and waist. I tilted my head back and to the side to offer him my neck and pushed and grinded my ass back against him, encouraging his cock to harden against me. He spun me around again instructed me to kneel on the bed. I did and he braced my right shoulder with his arm.

"Fall forward. I won't allow you to get hurt. Are you ready?"

I whimpered fearfully, "No", but I fell forward anyway. Then he bound my ankles together with rope and told me to scoot over. I slinked over while bound, bouncing my hips on the bed while moving further to my right. I turned my head to face in his direction when I felt him join me on the bed - it was the only part of me that was still mobile. I moaned and humped the bed when I felt the warmth of his hand against my flesh.

"Ok, now that I have your full, undistracted attention... let's talk."

"Yes, Master."

There was more than talking. There was tickling, massaging, at some point a posture collar made an appearance, and a buggy whip too. There was some hair-pulling and face slapping - both of which turned me into a whimpering aroused slut. And, of course, there was even a little bit of ass-spanking. All in all a very enjoyable time. And now I only want him more.

Friday, April 17, 2009

turning the page

On to a new chapter. Details will follow shortly. I think this will prove to be a major turning point in my life and the start of finally feeling fulfilled.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

just a dream

I know I should let go, but I can't. Even in my sleep I am tormented by thoughts of you, dreams of you... of us. Two nights ago I dream this dream:

I came to your city to run my first marathon - not because it was your city, but because I had vowed to run my first marathon there long before I had met you. I hadn't contacted you to tell you I'd be there because we had stopped communicating awhile ago and I figured you just wouldn't care to see me and had forgotten all about me. I ran my marathon and was thrilled. I knew no one would be at the finish line for me, but it didn't matter because I did this for me.

A fellow runner was chatting me up and just as he's suggesting we go out for dinner and drinks to celebrate I feel a firm grasp on my arm pulling me away. I turn and am shocked to see your face.

"Congratulations, little girl. You did good."

I continue to look at you in shock, at a loss for words. You grab my hair at the back of my head tightly in your fist and you pull me in for a long, passionate kiss that makes me weak in the knees. You break the kiss only to lick my face. I whimper and start to pant - immediately hungry for you. I whimper "Master".

You whisper in my ear, "Yes, baby. Your Master is here," I moan loudly and start to beg. I want to cum. I need to cum. I beg to have you inside me... in every hole.

"Not here, baby. Let's go."

I wake and I sob when I realize it was only a dream. It felt so real, seemed so real. I wish it had been real.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009


I'd foolishly give anything to be your perfect girl again... because I don't know who I am without you; all I know is that I should.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

heartbroken and disillusioned

gave me your word
and now that your word
doesn't mean that much
to me
and in
the silence
I can hear
the truth ring loud and clear
I never meant
that much
to you
and it seems
a whisper to a scream
was all that we knew
before the talk is through
I'm telling you
no more words tonight
no more words
I don't ever want to hear
you say you love me
one more time
no more words tonight
no more words
I'll forever keep the silence
and you can keep
your lies
you try
to throw me
one last line
to throw me
one last time
but now I guess
I'm wise to you
and vows
in the night
are broken in the light
what you recite
I have heard before
so say no more
the dialogue is over
I see your lips move
but you don't make a sound
you've lost what I have found
a voice inside of me
that sets me free

~ L. Kowalchyk

Friday, February 20, 2009

trembling with fear

After there was anger and sadness and admonishments and apologies and tears and trembling... after there was baring of souls, then there were his arms around me holding me closer than he ever has. My body trembled, my tears poured from my eyes with fear and loneliness... such intense loneliness while I was right there in his arms.

Softly he said, "Baby, I can feel your heart pounding against my chest."

"I know. I know. Just don't let go. Please don't let go. If you let go, I'm afraid it'll fall out."

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

a turning point

Dear Master,

I woke at 2:30 this morning and I tossed and turned the rest of the morning. I feel sick with anxiety and stress.

This doesn't feel right. It doesn't feel good. It boils down to this, my Master: I need to feel loved. I need someone who cares about me. I need someone who values me. I need someone who is willing to invest time and effort in me and in us because they believe I’m worth that investment. I need someone that wants to spend time with me rather than blow off steam with others all the time. I need someone who makes me feel wanted. I need someone who inspires me to be a better me. I need someone who will give me very basic attention, love and affection. It actually takes very little to make me feel happy and loved and cared for, but you have chosen time and time again to not provide any of that. So I wonder… are you that someone that I need? Do you even want to be that someone?

I need to stop feeling sad and rejected and unwanted and insecure. I need to stop feeling unworthy and ugly and insignificant. I need to go back to feeling strong and confident and beautiful and lovable - because I AM all of those things. I don’t recognize myself anymore. I’ve turned into a wimpy, insecure, and lost submissive. I am constantly feeling scared and unhappy and lost. That isn’t who I was and it isn’t who I want to be.

I love you. And, if this goes badly, I think there is a part of me that will continue to love you even after I stop grieving the loss of my Master and the loss of my dream of fully being yours. That has been my dream all along, Master… to fully be yours and for you to want me fully as yours.

I will forever be grateful to you for showing me a glimpse of the depths of my submission and devotion… because the devotion I’ve shown you has been unparalleled in my previous experiences. Thank for teaching me to crave a darkness in humiliation that I have never known before. I will always value you and I will always be here to offer my friendship – especially during the difficult times you’re currently facing.

Now I have to ask the one thing of you that I don't want to ask. Will you stop owning me? I can't and won't take my freedom from you - especially because I don't truly want it. So now, with everything I’ve said, I need you to make a choice. Please make a choice that, above all else, reflects what YOU want... and secondly reflects what you think is best for us both. Can you and will you meet my needs?

I know things are crazy for you right now and I know you’ve asked me to be patient. But, Master, I have been showing patience all along and its time I get some of my needs met. I've tried, I've really really tried to be good and to not be demanding and to consider everything you’re going through and just put myself on hold. But Master, I don't know if I can do it anymore. It’s getting to a point where I don't see the light at the end of the tunnel… only never-ending darkness. If there is no light at the end of the tunnel, if there is no hope for us to be what we both need, then what's the point of going on with this? I've been convincing myself that it isn't you who has to change, it's your situation… and that everything will be fine once the situation changes. Now I’m not so sure of that anymore. I fear that we’ve been stuck in this rut for so long that it won’t get better even once your biggest sources of stress are resolved.

I believe that if you truly think of me as yours, then you can find a way to provide what I need in order for me to flourish in your ownership. Do you truly think of me as yours? Do you understand what it means to own someone? I don’t ask that in a condescending way – I ask because I know that I give of myself to you probably more than anyone else ever has.

I believe that if we both want the same thing, then we can make this happen and we can have a solid and fulfilling relationship that meets both of our needs. But we have to both want to be good to each other. Before making your choice, please ask yourself if you want to be good to me.

I am terrified to send this, but I know it must be done. I am terrified that you will let me go, but it’s a chance I have to take. I can only trust that you believe me when I tell you I love you and want to serve you with all that I am. And I can only hope that my devotion is of enough value to you that you’ll want to keep me and keep me happy.

The one who loves you.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009


I dreamt of you last night. I don't dream of you often, but I love it when I do. I love that I can see and hear and feel and taste us together in my dreams. These dreams are very rare and welcomed gifts. And, without fail, they always ALWAYS leave me craving you ten times more than I normally do.

In my dream you had your Harley and you wore black leather pants for the long ride. I don't know where we were coming from or where we were going, but we stopped. I'm assuming it was at a hotel. Some of the details are unclear because one scene steps into the next in choppy sequences, not fluid and seamless. I'm assuming it was a hotel because suddenly I was naked and on my knees before you and you were standing before me with your feet apart and wearing only your leather pants.

You instruct me very clearly, "Bury your nose." I know what this means and I do it without hesitation. I press my face to the leather... first along the muscular swell of your inner thigh and then working my way up. I lick and inhale and even try to delicately gnaw on your pants and on your flesh. The smell of the leather is intoxicating, but it doesn't mask your scent when my nose is buried against your balls. I am lost in the feel, taste, smell of you... and in the sound of your low groan - that same sound that makes me ache with desire. My tongue presses forcefully against the leather and my mouth trembles while my body quivers. I want so much more. I want all of you. I want to devour you and be devoured by you - simultaneously the predator and the prey. The leather, although I love the scent and texture and taste, is in my way and I want to rip it apart; but I know that I can't so I just moan and whimper in agonizing frustration and desperate need.

You have one strong hand in my hair; softly running your fingers through the long, silky strands. The other hand unfastens and unzips your pants. I moan and groan loudly as I feel the ache in my belly demand to be satisfied. I stare at your cock springing free of its confines and into your hand. You hold me back with the firm grip in my hair while I strain against your hold to get my mouth on your cock. I know you're grinning wickedly as you watch my eyes fixate on your cock and my mouth begin to drool.

"Open your mouth and keep it open."

I moan like a desperate animal. Saliva gathers on the inside of my lips and I remind myself to not close my mouth to swallow. I begin to drool and I hate it, but at this moment I just don't care. My focus is on your glorious cock and your gorgeous hand slowly stroking it. I look up at you - my big blue eyes silently pleading with you to let me have it... let me taste it... let me touch it. Pleeeeeeeeeease. Looking into your eyes makes me want to fuck - it always does. Just like that Pavlovian dog I start to rock my hips back and forth, humping at nothing and desperate for something.

You let go of my hair and step away from me to remove your pants. I crawl toward you and you tell me I'm a good little cumpuppy. I whimper at your praise. You tell me, "Just your tongue, little cumpuppy." And I lick. I lick the head and taste your delicious pre-cum. I lick along the underside of your shaft and make my way to your balls. They're full and so perfectly smooth. I taste them and weigh them against my tongue. I want to open my mouth wide to nestle them on my tongue, but I remain obedient and just lick. I lick and lick and lick until I'm beneath you with my head tilted and I press the tip of my tongue into your puckered hole.

I taste you. I wake. And I ache.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009


I caught myself being flirty amongst a group of people the other day and I made a mental note to ask Master if that was alright with him. When I next spoke to him his reply was, "I don't mind at all. I know my cunt is my cunt. But you aren't allowed to touch anyone. So go ahead, make their balls ache." At his mention of aching balls I clarified that sometimes I flirt with women too (even though I've never engaged in anything physically intimate with a woman). To that he responded, very matter-of-factly, that I'll be eating pussy when he says so anyway. An awkward (awkward for me anyway) silence ensued.

Him: Problem, whore?

me: Well, I... I just...

Him: Don't stutter, whore. Spit it out.

(He always enjoys making me feel uneasy.)

me: Master, can we just make sure i'm a little more secure first... secure in your ownership of me, in your love for me... please, Master?

Him: Of course.

And with that, he went on to other matters. His mind may have gone elsewhere, but mine didn't.

Later that night I lay awake in bed and thought about him, as I always do. I want to please him. There's no doubt in my mind about that. Sometimes, however, I wonder if I CAN please him. He had mentioned including another woman before and I reacted badly. My insecurities get the best of me and I fear that I would lose him to another - to someone prettier, someone sluttier, someone more exciting. So I decided that if I was to please him, then I need to wrap my brain around this scenario and begin accepting it so that I am ready for it when the time comes.

My thoughts quickly drifted to the image of me tasting some other woman's pussy while my Master fucked me from behind. Although I wasn't really turned on by the thought, I also wasn't repulsed. Then the scenario shifted again and I imagined him touching her and kissing her... and very suddenly I became physically ill. Nausea swept over me and I had to make a quick dash to the bathroom while I tried very hard to push those thoughts from my mind. I broke down in tears.

The next two days continued to be filled with nausea and tears. Apparently I'm far from ready. Apparently, my insecurities run pretty deep. Apparently, I can't please my Master in every way he wishes.

I don't know if I can stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should.
~ Missy Higgins

Thursday, January 22, 2009


My nights are restless. I can't sleep. I toss and turn through most of the night. Every time I move or shift or open my eyes, the ache inside me builds. My Master torments me. It isn't just his cunt that aches - its all of me. My skin aches for his touch, my lips ache to taste him, my fingers ache to feel and stroke him.

At 4:15am I tossed and turned until I found myself on my back with my fingers inside my panties, caressing his aching pussy. Silky smooth folds of aching flesh welcomed my fingers but my mind still wanted him. With further encouragement I probably could have had my one-a-day orgasm, but I didn't. I stopped because I knew I wouldn't be able to release the way I needed. Later today, when I'm alone, I will fill the bedroom with my screams when the unrelenting vibrations of a toy combined with thoughts of him will bring me over the edge.

I keep envisioning him having me bend over some piece of furniture to brace myself - maybe a bed or the armrest of a couch or the back of a low chair or a countertop. He has me spread my legs apart wide and bend over as far as the furniture allows so that my ass can be high and my holes exposed to him. He examines me and I am mortified, but I can't and won't object because I am his to do with as he wishes. His strong fingers probe and rub and encourage the slick wetness to swallow him up. He tells me I'm his bitch, his whore... he tells me I'm beautiful and that I'm his good little girl. He tells me everything I ache to hear. He makes me moan and whimper and ache for absolute possession. All the while those slick and swollen pink folds ache and that tiny pink button throbs like its calling out his name repeatedly and rhythmically. It is his prisoner and only he can free it from the delicious torment of its captivity.

I need to cum desperately and I beg for release. The desperation in my voice is pathetic and he loves it - as evidenced by his smug and wicked grin. He slaps his pink meat of wanton flesh - once delicately and then harshly. The tense muscles and nerve endings begin to spasm and my knees jerk for a moment as I feel weak. He reminds me harshly not to cum. He reminds me that he controls what he owns and with those words I moan like a desperate animal. He pulls his belt from the loops of his jeans and strikes his aching cunt with it - the pain mingles with the pleasure and my screams fill the air. I want him in me - always in me. His cunt is an empty greedy hole of aching nothingness without him.

He brings me to the brink of orgasm repeatedly, but never allows the release. He reminds me that his pleasure comes first. I acknowledge with an unintelligble grunt. I'm no longer able to speak. I can't string two words together... only moans and whimpers and grunts. It doesn't matter because he isn't looking for idle chit chat from me. In this moment he has me exactly as he wants me - existing for only my most basic needs and desires. I am his obedient and needy cumpuppy. The only words I can utter are "Master" and "please". They are all I need to survive this moment... those words and his mercy.

Will my Master be merciful?
Will he bring his cunt to orgasm time and time and time again until I can no longer stand?
Will he give in to my pathetic pleading when I beg for more?
Or will he taunt my flesh and my soul until I am a puddle of tears?
Will he fuck me so powerfully that each thrust knocks the wind out of my lungs and nearly knocks me off my feet?
Will he yank my hair and reach around to torture my nipples?
Will he growl in my ear and bite my shoulder and back?

Thursday, January 15, 2009


I've been thinking a lot - as I always do. I've been thinking about this sense of self-loathing I've had lately and this uncomfortable feeling I've had about my relationship with Master. I haven't been able to really put my finger on the cause of it, but I was talking to a girlfriend about the way I was feeling and I think we stumbled onto something.

Before belonging to him I was never into humiliation. I had always felt that I wasn't emotionally strong enough to handle humiliation... that it would break me somehow and cause psychological damage. So I stayed far away from it. Suddenly, with him, I am drowning in it. Suddenly, with him, I just take everything he gives me... I crave it... I even get wet from it - very wet. I love it and I don't want him to stop. However, I'm wondering if it could be messing me up a little and causing this recent self-loathing. I don't think the actual humiliation is causing this. I think its because of the lack of aftercare.

I'm not blaming him for anything. I know that our situations make things very difficult and our time together very limited. But whenever we play, he tends to cut things abruptly. There tends to be absolutely no aftercare at all. He tells me to calm down or calm my breathing and then he often tells me he has to go. So I'm left in this bizarre state... in subspace limbo... and I come away from it feeling broken and hating myself. That broken feeling is great when I'm with him, but I think I need to feel him putting me back together before he leaves me on my own. Its not healthy if I'm always dropping but never being built back up. It ends up making me feel empty and worthless and unwanted and just plain ugly in every way. It also sometimes makes me think that he doesn't truly love me... that he doesn't give a shit about me... that he can take me or leave me without even blinking. And feeling that way rips me apart.

I love my Master. I need him. I need everything from him. I hope we can discuss this soon so that I can start coming out of this dark space. I'm not enjoying it and, quite frankly, its beginning to scare me.

Saturday, January 3, 2009

torment for a cunt

I sat very still, very quietly, and nude on the hard and uncomfortable chair. He made his way toward me with the grace and stealth and confidence of a panther. My mouth went dry as I watched him. I was sure he could see how my breathing had changed. He could probably already smell my arousal... his meat, as he liked to call it.

"Are you soaked, my little cumrag?"

The sound of his voice and those words made me want to cum that very instant. Of course I was soaked. I was aching and throbbing and I desperately wanted to beg him to fuck me that very instant. But I knew better. He wouldn't make it that quick or that easy, no matter how much I begged. So I replied, like the dutiful little cunt he loves me to be.

"Cross your legs." His order was like a bark. It always made me sit with my back very straight and it always made me pay very close attention. He had that effect on me. I immediately crossed my right leg over my left while I sat on the edge of the chair with my back very straight and gripped the edges of each side of the seat tightly enough that I could feel my knuckles straining against my skin.


I whimpered and gasped as he raised his voice and immediately did as he commanded. There was no need for hesitation. His commands were always clear and simple, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Watching him and listening to his commands made my clit throb with need and my cunt ache to be filled. I wanted to cum right then and there.

"Master, please? Please?" I begged so sweetly, so nicely.

"Today we see what my bitch is made of." I understood those words and his intent behind them. He was going to torment me mercilessly... and I was going to love every single moment.

"I need it, Master. Please. Your cunt is throbbing wildly, Master." He knew very well what "it" was. He knew me to be a cum-hungry whore... HIS cum-hungry whore. I needed him to command the orgasm. Without his command or permission I wouldn't and couldn't cum.

"No. You WILL control what I own. You WILL be an OBEDIENT WHORE. You WILL OBEY ME."

"Yes, Master. Always, Master."


"oh God... Master!" I spread my legs wide apart and he barked that he wanted them wider. My blood rushed to the lips of my cunt and to that pesky little button that aided his torment of me. I needed him to fill me with his glorious cock. Parting my legs wide for him only made me more aware of how empty I was without him. The cool air on his wet meat made me shudder as my body temperature rose as I slipped deeper into subspace.

"Bitch want my cock?"

"Yes! Yes, Master. Please! I need all of you. I need my Master." I heard the desperation in my own voice. I sounded pathetic and needy.

My pathetic begging was rewarded. He masturbated before my very eyes, mere inches from my face and denied me the pleasure of touching him. I watched, hungry and needy and desperate to suck him with my mouth and stroke him with my hands.

"Open your mouth wide, bitch. WIDE! And don't you dare swallow. I want to see you drool. You don't swallow until I tell you to swallow."

I opened my mouth as wide as I could. My jaw ached. I watched, whimpering with my mouth open while he jacked his cock and filled my mouth with his cum. I choked and gagged a little with my efforts not to swallow when his cum hit the back of my throat. I held the puddle of his cum in my mouth. I heard him groan and then he did what I thought I would never allow anyone to do to me. He pissed on my naked flesh. His warm, liquid golden fluid splashing off my face and neck and breasts.

I was shocked and maybe even a little disgusted at first. And then, strangely enough, I was even more aroused than I had been seconds before. He was marking me... with his cum, his piss and spit. He was marking me as his. That's exactly what I was and am. I am his. He does what he wishes with me and to me.

With that realization I moaned louder. I began to feel the tiny muscles in my cunt spasm. I was nearing an uncontrollable orgasm. Luckily, he recognized the signs and immediately took control of it, of me.

"Legs crossed. SQUEEZE them tight. Give your mind to me. You will not cum. You will control what you have given me. I am in control of your body and mind. It does all your Master asks of it. SWALLOW, my bitch!"

I felt it coat my throat. I went deeper into subspace, in a daze... in a haze. I licked my lips and tasted his piss on them. I realized then just how fully he owned me and was aroused beyond measure by how far I would go for him.

"Master, I love you so very much."

"I love you too, my treasured child."

He had never spoken those words. I didn't think he'd ever tell me he loved me. I didn't think he would ever love me. My eyes began to fill with tears.

"You will not cry. Your body will relax. It is mine and it will do as I say. Is that understood?"

I nodded my head, blinking back tears and looking at him adoringly.

"Your body and mind will be held on the brink - a constant state of bliss until I say to let it go. Let the throbbing fill you, feed you. Let the ache in your nipples pierce your body."

I whimpered, "Master, the throbbing and aching won't stop."

"No, it won't. But that is where it will stay. Aching. Knowing Master will decide when. And you will lovingly keep it there. Your mind and cunt filled with the thought and feeling of Master's cock slipping in and out of you over and over and over again. Your wet hole only there to please his cock, his every animalistic desire. Your orgasm his gift if he decides it."

I moaned like a bitch in heat. I felt like an animal. My need for him was overpowering and raw.

"Legs wide, my lucious little cumrag."

I moaned and groaned louder. "Every time you have me open wide I'm made achingly aware of how empty I am without you... and the throbbing increases."

He wiped his semi-flacid cock across my cheek. My mouth instinctively opened wide and turned towards his cock. My cunt spasmed again and I whimpered desperately.

"Open and close repeatedly. WHOSE IS IT !?!?"

"Yours. Yours. It wants to cum."


"To serve you."

"Good girl. You will own that statement of truth. Open and close faster. Feel my little cock pocket sucking for what isn't there. Aching. Swollen. Needing. CROSS THEM! Now uncross, legs together and relaxed."

I whimper a pathetic "Master".

"You WILL control my body."

"Master... Master... please." I am more desperate than ever to cum, to be filled. He is merciless and doesn't allow it.

"Who owns you, bitch?"