This is not me. She's beautiful, though, don't you think?

So lately, I’ve been stuck on trying to do away with Master’s “monster face”.  I’m not sure why I’m so hellbent on making people see the good in Him.  But I think it’s because there is good in Him.  And it makes me feel bad when it’s obvious some people just can’t see passed how mean He can be to the sweetheart He sometimes is.  Like His sadistic streak somehow nullifies the love we share.

And if this were an abusive relationship, rather than a consensual one, I could see their point of view.  But I asked for this.  He’s supposed to be mean sometimes.

This morning, we were laying in bed and He kept stroking my hair and kissing my back.  He snuggled me into oblivion and showed me all sorts of pity and sympathy cause my period is kicking my ass.  He called me a spoiled brat when I whined that I didn’t want to get up and let me lay there for a little while longer… Till He realized He wasn’t going to be able to come back to bed because there were serious issues at the office.  Then He made me get up and make breakfast.  Discomfort is not a good enough excuse for the slave to be lazy if the master can’t in this house.

I think He’s feeling guilty about the paddle I bought Him.  It sort of cracks me up because I bought the thing for exactly the reason He’s feeling guilty about it.  Because I knew I would hate it, which would mean He would love it.  I should just crawl over His lap later and wait for Him to get it.

How long do you think it’ll be before I’m begging Him to stop?

Do you think He’ll be able to hold me? I buck pretty hard, sometimes.

Yesterday morning, Master reached around me and started pinching and clawing the fuck out of my tits.

See, the other day I made a huge, huge mistake.  I showed Him, a beautifully sociopathic sadist, just how much I liked that by begging Him over and over to pinch harder, claw more, twist… I think I have permanent indentations in my nipples.  But it’s very, very different when He’s doing it because He wants to than when I ask Him to.  When He wants to, I have no warning.  And sometimes I’m really not into it.  

Yesterday morning, I was into it, but not at quite the level He wanted to take it.  I can still hear His voice in my ear tickling shivers down my spine.  “Get your hands off of me, cunt.”

His dick throbbed to life against my spine as I thrashed against Him and tried to wrench away, and my body followed suit.  Every pinch and tug and claw zapped through my nerve endings and straight to my pussy as He began to thrust against my back.

The irony is He can, and does, empathize.  Sometimes.  Sometimes (most of the time) He’s actually mocking me.  But, sometimes, He empathizes with my pain.  He just doesn’t care.

He put it in my ass.  And He fucked me for a while before putting it in my mouth.  After wiping it off.  He’s such a gentleman.  I’m a lucky girl.

He tells me how filthy I am.  How hot it is to see such a loving housewife reduced to the pig whore I am.

I guess our life kind of is a 24/7 scene when Master’s home.  Which is more often than not, these days.  I keep hoping that won’t change, but I’m pretty sure after the holidays they’re going to be doing their best to get Him into the office before making Him work.

He almost always has something to hit me with in His hands.  If He doesn’t, He uses His hands.  When my stomach isn’t acting up (it’s finally starting to get better), Master keeps me plugged.  And if I give Him a blow job, I get to play with my new toys.  He gets lots of blow jobs.

I got this crazy huge rabbit vibrator from CalExotics for review.  Of course it would show up while I’m on my period.  ~sigh~

I got to wondering if I’m a princess earlier.  And then I remembered Him telling me the other night that the best thing about me is my pussy.  And that I’m lucky He enjoys the rest of me.  And how I’d better make sure He continues to enjoy the rest of me, or I’ll only be good for my pussy.  And then I won’t like what my life becomes.

Somehow, I don’t think that would be acceptable for a princess.  Somehow, I think a princess would be all, “You’ll like me for who I am or I’m out the door!”

Master’s new thing… I say “new” but He’s been doing it for a while.  He and I will be sitting on the couch talking about something and, out of nowhere, He’ll slug me in the shoulder or thigh.  And I’m not talking about the playful, absolutely-no-force-behind-them slugs I’ll occasionally, jokingly give Him.  Though He doesn’t all out wale on me, either.

Once upon a time, I’d get all offended.  “Ow! What the fuck was that for?”

“I felt like it.”

~blink~ “You… felt like it? Does not compute.”

Now, though, I just sort of blink dumbly, pause briefly, and then go on with what I was saying.

He’s back to training me to keep my hands down.  It feels so… doormat-ish.  But I think He kinda wants a doormat.  For Him.  Not a doormat for anyone else.  And I’m kinda okay with that.  I’ll kick His ass later.

Okay, okay.  I’ll try to kick His ass and get my ass kicked instead.

See? I know my place.

<3
~pig whore