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Archive for August, 2007

What You’ve Missed

August 20th, 2007 No comments


Eventually, after I'd stopped pouting, He told me to crawl to Him. He was holding an unwrapped truffle just above His knee. When I got to Him on hands and knees, He
fed me a truffle like you would feed a dog a treat. And I lavished it like the
dog, taking it from His fingers ever so gently with my teeth, then biting into
it and sucking on the sweet inside.


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Explanations

August 16th, 2007 No comments

And maybe they are. Iâ??m noticing more and more my failing
ability to win friends and influence people the more we isolate me. Iâ??m finding
myself completely, over the top nervous with people I used to be comfortable
with. And the more I try, the less I relate to the people who used to be
important in my life (Master excluded, as He has become the most important
person in my life).


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Just In Case

August 15th, 2007 No comments

A note to our friends and readers:

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What about…?

August 14th, 2007 Comments off

My father’s coming to visit tomorrow, and I almost asked to be allowed to skip my tasks so I could get the house in order.  But I usually like blogging, even when I can’t think of anything to blog about, and so I decided to just try to get them done as quickly as possible. Of course, that doesn’t work as well when Master stays home, and I have no idea what to blog about! So! I’m giving myself the amount of time it takes to eat two pieces of toast with a thin layer of cream cheese (less fat and cholesterol than butter, dontcha know) and drink a full glass of ice water to come up with a topic and then I’m off to change the water in the fish tank. If I don’t get it by then, I’ll be back later, I suppose.

Though, it doesn’t help when I’m distracted by every little thing. I swear someone should have put me on Ritalin  twenty years ago.

Have you ever had something really bother you but you hesitate to talk about it because you’re pretty sure it shouldn’t bother you? Or, even if in “the real world” it should bother you, in your slave world it’s probably none of your business? This happens to me quite frequently. And so, instead of saying, “hey Master, I’ve got a problem,” I bury it. And bury it. And bury it some more. And then when we get to discussing some other problem, it resurfaces and it’s even meaner than it was when it first came up. And I’m in even more trouble because I should have just said, “hey, this is bugging me,” weeks ago when it first started bugging me, regardless of the consequences.

An example of this is my angst over having ratty clothes and falling-apart shoes, being overweight and feeling like I can’t compare with the vast majority of the women Master thinks are hot. Well, angst isn’t an accurate term. I’ve been downright depressed about it. But I didn’t tell him about it until after I’d been crying over it every day for a week when he was already off to work.

It’s not that Master doesn’t want to buy me new clothes. Au contraire! He has an entire new wardrobe he’d like to purchase for me. Clothes that I would never dream of wearing if I wasn’t made to. Mostly consisting of dresses and skirts. But we’re broke. Hopefully, his raise and the eldest coming off child support will help that.

But maybe this isn’t Earth-shattering to you. Maybe this is something you’d just flat out say. What if it was  something else? What if it was some “flaw” in personality that has always been a minor annoyance but, agitated more by some other issue, has caused out of control irritation? Do you speak then?

I usually don’t. And I should. I should because I’m required to speak aloud, to him, every single issue that floats around in my head. Now, generally speaking, if I spoke every thought, I’d never shut up. I mean, I’m always thinking about something, even if it is something utterly stupid (like the other day, while I watched a leaf, I spent a good thirty minutes thinking about how childlike I can be sometimes now that I’ve learned to stop and take in my environment float around in the murky water at the bottom of a really nice waterfall where we used to spend a lot of time), so I would seriously just never shut up. 

In an attempt to “self-censor” and save face, I just go on trying to pretend nothing is bothering me. I hold my tongue because surely a “real slave” wouldn’t have these thoughts. Real slaves think their owners are practically perfect in every way, right? And real slaves would see any flaws as virtues, right? And real slaves would know that if there is some “flaw” in their owner, it’s none of their business, right? Right??!?

But damn if it doesn’t piss me off when he’s late, hence making me late, to some function or to work or a meeting or whatever. And Jesus Christ, could he just stop procrastinating and do what he said he was going to do? Or let me do what I said I was going to do. Or better yet, I’ll do what he said he was going to do (if I’m capable) and what I said I was going to do and he can go on procrastinating while it’s already done! And so what it’s months away? We’ll still need the same things months from now that we need right now so why not get them now while we’re sure we have the money?

These are all things I’ve expressed (to death) my concern with. They’re all things I’ve been properly rebuffed for. “None of your business, cunt. It’s not your time, it’s my time. It’s not your money, it’s my money. Things will be done when I feel like doing them or allowing you to do them and not before.” They still get my hackles up, but I’ve told him they bother me. Less and less the more I realize I’m not going to change him. And I’m more and more grateful for having found the right man to own me as I watch him try to change some of these things at least a little bit. For example, we were ten minutes early meeting the man who oversees volunteer work at the cemetery last weekend. I was shocked! (Disclaimer: I’m not complaining about these things now. I’m using them as an example. Right now, nothing about that man annoys me. I want to curl up in his lap and give him a great big smooch in places only dirty girls kiss.)

Did I have a point in all this? ~looks~ Oh yeah…

My newest endeavor (Maybe I take on too many at once and that’s why I always fail.  Maybe I should slow down and wait till I’ve succeeded at one to start on another.), I think, is going to be trying to speak up always when things first start to irk me so that I can still do it respectfully and at least not get in trouble for being out-of-control-mad (which leads to out-of-control-sarcasm-and-disrespect) when I finally bring my problem, which Master has no way of knowing until I open my mouth, to his attention. 

And here it is, 9:34am in New York, and I’ve only done half a load of dishes. Maybe I should go in to work late tomorrow.

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Conversations of Comfort

August 11th, 2007 No comments

Master and I have been having rather interesting conversations since the last time I was in trouble. There’s a lot on the docket for today. The weather is devastatingly beautiful so He plans to go walking and photo taking. Unfortunately, I washed my favorite sweater (which has to hang dry) last night so I might have to wear something else when we go out.

He also plans to place the slave rings around the house today so He has places to chain me when He wants to put me away. I’m almost hoping He runs out of time. At the same time, I can’t wait. I asked if He plans to order more because we’re running out. He put two up ages ago (Though He’s yet to use them – any ideas on how to soundproof our closet would be greatly appreciated!) over the closet so that He could hang me there and He bought four. He said probably.

He asked me how I feel about the fact that He enjoys hurting me, using me and fully believes that I’m a dumb cunt, a bitch, an animal, yet loves me as well. I told Him that I’m glad He loves me. I think if He didn’t, because of how much I love Him, it would be so much harder to accept my place at His feet. Only because it would be devastating to serve someone I love as much as I love Him and know that love was not reciprocated.

He once asked me how it will feel to serve someone I don’t love if He were ever to decide to be rid of me. To know that they will expect the same service from me as He does and to have to give them what they expect even if they do not care about me at all. I think it would be weird. And it might be difficult as well. There are things I do for Him because I love Him that I would never consider doing for another person. And He, or the person He gives me to, could order me to do those things and there I would be, performing acts of love for a man I didn’t love. That thought both frightens and excites me.

Master mentioned His worry about what happens if He dies suddenly and there are no arrangements made for me. He’s pretty set on me being owned until the day I die. It’s what I asked for. It’s what I begged Him for. And it’s what I agreed to.

As it stands right now, He’s ordered me to mourn a bit and then find someone else to own me. He’s hoping, however, to in the near future find a man who would like to either own me or take care of selling me in the event of Master’s untimely passing. This is actually a pretty big comfort. Have I mentioned I don’t know how to take a bus? Have no clue how to hail a cab. And do not have a driver’s license. Scary stuff.

He wants to go play World of Warcraft, so I guess this is the end of this entry. Maybe between now and Tuesday I can think of things to add.

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Self-esteem

August 9th, 2007 No comments

Iâ??m not sure how I feel about slaves and self-esteem. I have
a hard time, sometimes, separating self-esteem and self-worth. Arenâ??t they the
same thing? And in so saying, shouldnâ??t a slave be finding her worth in her
Masterâ??s opinion and not her own? And if her Masterâ??s opinion of herself is
good, shouldnâ??t her own opinion of herself be good? And is a slave having a
good opinion of herself the same thing as an egotistical slave?


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