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Giving In To Myself

August 8th, 2006

I've been contemplating this entry all day. Wanting to write
it. Needing to. And I've avoided it all day. I won't bore you with that. I'll
just get on with the entry and stop stalling.

I've ran head on into another fear and I think I was finally
able to come to terms with it. There's been this odd speculation that it's
impossible to be a slave and be part of a loving relationship at the same time.
While I knew that Master loves me, I couldn't help but be afraid that the more
I became a slave, the more I would only be a toy… oh this isn't how I want to
explain it. Let's see….

I was afraid that He wouldn't love me anymore. That I would
suddenly be alone. You see, He's my everything. My owner, my lover, my
husband… my family and my best friend. Maybe my only friend. Or at least the
only one I allow inside my head. And I was terrified of losing that.

I owe everyone I know, everyone who reads me, an apology.
And most of them won't read this because a lot of them have long since become
fed up with my outspoken, overbearing, know-it-all way of putting my opinion
out there. lina was right. I hadn't surrendered. I was afraid to. I was afraid
that if I did, I'd lose something very important to me – the closeness I have
with the one who owns me. And I was afraid I'd lose myself. And I was afraid in
losing myself I'd lose Him.

The sad thing is, I used to preach against all these things
ignoring that these were my fears as well. I would tell girls that they would
find themselves in becoming what they wanted to be and who they really were and
that they would love deeper and be more pleasing and yearn for so much more.
And if their owners realized that they weren't quite who they wanted, they
would find someone they fit better. And all the while I was holding myself from
Master. Maybe not all of me, but the most important part of me.

We spent a while in rather intense training recently. I begged
Him to fix me. To fix whatever it was inside of me that was prohibiting me from
being what it is He wants me to be. What I want me to be. Because I want
nothing more than to be His dream. His perfect slave. And then when it stopped,
I started to act out again. I started to resort to pretending I was some kind
of special. I'm not special. I'm just a slave. A toy. An object existing simply
for the pleasure of men – Master first and foremost, and then any that He deems

Not willing to allow me to get out of hand again, not
willing to revert to ignoring my behavior when it gets out of hand, Master
shoved me to His feet and instead reverted to the intense training we had just
stopped. And I was shocked. I had tried to explain away my actions and make
excuses and fully expected Him to swallow the bull shit and let me go about my
business. Though He hadn't, He might as well have slapped me in the face when I
didn't even realize He was standing next to me. But it worked. I cried while I
licked and kissed His feet. I sniffled while I kissed at His thighs. And I
balled when He slapped the top of my head and reminded me that I have hands to
tease Him with as well.

On my hands and knees, kissing His feet, I wanted to crawl
into the floor and die when he kicked my tits and said "I want you to rub
those big tits all over me too. You should use what you have, don't you
think?" But, naturally, my pussy started to drip and I did as I was told.
And something broke. My will? My pride? My dignity? Who knows? As I rubbed His
cock and legs with my tits, I grinded my wet pussy on His foot getting wetter
and wetter. And then I wriggled to my knees and licked my pussy juices off of
His toes.

We went into the bedroom and I licked His back and legs and
ate out His ass. And then I licked the front of His legs and His balls and then
sucked His cock. When He was ready to cum, He shocked me again. "Lay on
your back and spread your legs so I can shoot my load in your cunt."
Somehow, that was so much more vulgar than "Turn over so I can cum in
you." Somehow it made me so much more worthless in my own eyes.

A few days ago, we went for a rather long walk around where
we live. When we started, I was a little snotty (I've been feeling particularly
down on my appearance lately) and broke a rule (not to badmouth myself) and
Master quickly but quietly (we were outside) reminded me of my place. I almost
stopped in my tracks. But when He was finished His piece and after I responded,
the walk continued and He dropped it, went fluidly into a subject we've been
discussing in length lately, and I felt better.

I didn't step out of line again that night. We walked until
well after dark and when we came home we watched a movie and went to bed. And I
was forced to face reality. You can quite comfortably be slave and be in a
loving relationship so long as you stay in your place. I could be a toy and be
loved. And I could happily do so because I enjoy being used for sex. I enjoy
knowing I've caused someone (men in particular) sexual pleasure. Yes, I am
bisexual. Yes, I do enjoy pleasing men more than women. The only reasoning I
can offer for this is the fact that I believe that men are the superior gender.

Yesterday, Master told me to get on the floor (which always
means to lick and kiss His feet and legs) while He decided what we were going
to do for dinner. Naturally, I complied, and it didn't take long for me to be
panting like a bitch in heat while I danced my lips and tongue over his thighs,
calves, feet, and finally His balls. I remembered His order to use what I have
to arouse Him and rubbed my tits all over Him as well. And then I sucked His

Hand jobs have become a recent development in our sex life.
I was afraid of them. The only part of my sexual nature that I have complete
confidence in is my ability to give a blow job. But not once has Master
complained about my hand jobs and often He opts for that instead of a blow job.
I've not asked why. I suppose some day I might, though I expect an answer
similar to "Because that's what I wanted at the time." So now I
alternate, when giving Him a blow job, between massaging His cock with my hands
and mouth, using my hands more if that's what He's ordered and my mouth more if
it's that He wants. Yesterday was no different.

But then I did something I've never done before. When I knew
He was getting close, I threw my hair over my shoulder and dropped my head
back. I leaned back and I massaged His cock till His cum sprayed all over my
chest. This is not to say He's never came on my chest before. This is to say
I've never made Him do it without being ordered. It's always been one of those
incredibly slutty things that would just prove how much of a whore I am. And
without even a moment of hesitation, I did it.

I did it despite the fact that what I really wanted to do
was gulp down every last drop. I did it despite what I knew it meant about
myself. I did it for the express purpose of pleasing Him. I did it because I
thought He would enjoy watching me be so dirty for His pleasure more than He
would enjoy me swallowing another load of His cum. And when it was done, I
licked His cum off my hand and His cock and sat at His feet with a little girl
smile on my face and His cum dripping down my chest until He told me to go
clean up. And when I asked if I was a good girl and was answered with
"You're a damn good cock sucker." I beamed just as brightly as I
would have had He said yes.

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