His Kitten

Wandered

2010-04-20T17:22:00.002-04:00

I have wandered away from this blog for too long. I even forgot my log in! But sometimes the un-contemplated life is the best sort of life. He and I have been living offline and enjoying ourselves thoroughly. S&M is still there underneath everything that we do - we are still very much Owner and Kitten - but the trailblazing newbie fear has left me. Now we just are. We are settled and happy. I like it this way.

So, nothing new to share every few days. Leave a comment to say goodbye, if you'd like. I'll still be around at the e-mail address listed in my profile and maybe I'll return some day. With any luck, things will be calm enough that I won't need to :-)

Best,
Kitten

Threes

2009-11-23T15:11:00.004-05:00

I mentioned this in my last post, but I'd like to talk a little more about our threesome with our new friend, H. We met her online, but we had talked to a lot of other people online before that and none of them had ever worked out. We had talked about a threesome with another woman for so long that we knew exactly how we wanted it to go, and we weren't willing to settle for an unsatisfactory experience with the wrong person.

We had even recently had a bad experience of our own. I don't want to go into it too deeply and dredge it all up again, but before we met H. we got together with a couple to play and...it did not work out. It caused a lot of tension and (momentary) jealousy between my Owner and I, although we were able to come through it. That experience taught us that we are strong together, strong enough to find the right person to play with, strong enough to weather the tough parts of having a somewhat open relationship. We found H. pretty quickly after that and decided that we needed to believe in our relationship and pursue things with her even though we had been burned recently.

Anyway, we immediately hit it off with H. We had fun e-mail and phone conversations with her, separately and together. The energy was perfect. We all wanted the same things out of the experience, and we loved that she seemed to be open-minded. I especially loved that she was coming to us with no agenda - she truly wanted to be with both of us and I didn't get the feeling that there was going to be any problem with my relationship with my Owner in any way.

The night we finally got together was truly amazing. We had the opportunity to do so many things that I had been fantasizing about for so long. Also? She is a great kisser and great with her tongue. (Oh, and did I mention that she has the most amazing boobs that I have ever seen? *swoon!*) The highlight, though, was watching my Owner fuck her. It was really unexpected for me, but that memory still gives me a thrill every time. Sharing Him with H. was everything that I thought it would be, and more. There's something about the fact that my Owner could control and satisfy both of us that makes Him seem so powerful and so sexy. Just knowing that He could please her in that way, and continue to please me beyond my expectations, makes me feel like such a lucky girl. I am more in awe of Him than ever.

Things have continued to be fun and drama-free with H. since then. We're hoping to get together again soon to do all of the things that we didn't get to do the first time around (and for a repeat of some of the highlights). Mostly importantly, my Owner and I are doing great and we're stronger every day.

Alive

2009-11-17T14:30:00.003-05:00

I'm here! I'm alive! I've just been out of the blogging mood for so long that it was almost impossible to come back. I'm still not sure if I'm going to be posting here regularly, so please check back when you can.

Things with my Owner are going very well. We have been very close and getting on very well. You know how it is...life is normal, slavery continues! The most interesting development is that we met a lovely young woman and shared an amazing evening with her recently. She is very fun, very spontaneous, very sexy (and very bisexual, if I may say). The three of us had so much fun...I just hope that we all can get together again soon because six hours of playing (six! six whole hours!) was no where near enough.

Hope all is well where you are...I'll be in touch soon.

Kitten

Gratitude

2009-09-24T12:21:00.003-04:00

I have heard some young submissives (and even some insecure doms) worry about the attributes that the best Masters just must have. They mention discipline, internal and external, and rope-tying skills and delicious cruelty. But I think my Master's best attribute is something much more benign but still extremely important - His patience.

I am so grateful that He was so calm, understanding and willing to hold my hand this week, even as I threw an unholy hissy fit. I am thankful that He knows that I get scared and that I blame Him for feeling insecure, and that He loves me and reassures me anyway. I am so grateful that He holds me tight to His chest as I thrash and try to get away, tight until I tire and cling to Him again.

And I am most grateful for the fact that He will discipline me this weekend and put me back in my place. That's where I belong.

Such a Long Time

2009-09-22T11:51:00.001-04:00

I haven't written here in a while. Life has intruded a little too much lately. He and I continue on. We learn new things every day.

Our biggest challenge lately - okay, so it's my biggest challenge - is how to do things for which there are no road maps. How to find out who you are when no one is like you. How to form your relationship when you don't think like any other couple you know. Blazing trails has never been my strong suit. I've been a conformist all my life and I've never tried to stand out from the crowd. He's a little different, but I know that He's challenged by our path. We're both so in the dark sometimes.

I hope that, as we continue to find our way, we cling to each other in the dark. We may be alone out there in what we're doing, but at least we're together in finding our way.

Slavery

2009-09-09T12:33:00.003-04:00

"I am your slave," I moaned as I rode Him with my collar around my neck. I didn't think before I said it. I just blurted it out as I felt it.

"Yes, yes you are. You've resisted that label, but that is what you are, Kitten," He reassured me.

I started crying, tears of relief and joy and humiliation, all at the same time. He pulled me close and we moved together. He whispered in my ear: "Slave."

Whys and wherfores

2009-09-02T09:00:00.000-04:00

My friend and yours, the Discerning Dom, has written on the threesome from the male perspective, including why it's desirable to share your submissive with another man. I understand all of those reasons. I see them expressed by my Owner - He wants to feel that he can use me and own me so completely that I'll fuck another man for him, He wants me to express my inner slut for him, etc.

But why do I want to share Him with another woman? I feel it very strongly, but I cannot explain why. Remember the experience that we had this spring with that other couple? I didn't write about one part of that experience - the part where I sucked my Owner's cock with her. I was just about to start sucking His cock while the couple watched when I was overcome with the strongest feeling - I wanted to see her do it too. I wanted Him to feel that. I wanted to see His cock in her mouth. I wanted to share all of that with her and embrace them both in that moment.

I got my wish. I was so pleased to look up at one point and see my Owner reclining on the bed with his hands behind his head and this look of utter bliss on his face. He looked like the happiest man on earth.

And I have felt that desire many times since. We are about to embark on something new, possibly with someone we both can share. I want so many things with her and with Him, things that I want to see her enjoy with Him and ways that He can please me by pleasuring her. I cannot tease out all of the threads and understand why. I am happy that I feel this way because I think that it means that I'm growing into my relationship and comfortable with all of the ways that my Owner and I can explore our love for each other. (But there is a tiny part of me that thinks that my desires are fucked up and maybe wrong somehow.)

I know that part of it is simple - that I want to share Him just so I can experience his pleasure second-hand. That is part of it, surely, because I am nothing if not a people-pleaser. But I am usually also a jealous person and I would have expected that I would want to please Him myself, to know that I provide Him with the most pleasure in this world, not anyone else. But when push comes to shove, I'm not jealous. I'm generous and I want to share Him.

Why?

Encore

2009-08-31T17:40:00.000-04:00

My Owner and I were pressed together, sweaty and hoarse from screaming.

No, it's not what you think. We were at an amazing concert. It lasted almost three hours and it was exhilarating. The crowd was rowdy and my Owner was working hard to protect me from getting stomped on. I'm barely 5'2", so I can get claustrophobic in crowds of tall people. But He put His arms around me and we were safe in the chaos together.

But not quite alone...

A few songs into the set, He started protecting this girl who was even shorter than me. I saw her in my peripheral vision at first and could see that she was cute. Black top, dark hair, sexy eyes. My Owner put out His arm to make sure she didn't get knocked over and she shot him a grateful smile. She stayed by us, dancing close. I saw her looking at me and at Him. Her hip and arm bumped mine as she danced close to me and she gave me little looks under her eyelashes.

I felt my breathing quicken every time she ground her hips against mine. None of us said anything - I was convinced for a while that I was imaging things, and so was my Owner - but after a while we could both feel the electric energy between the three of us. I cast around for something to say to her, something that would sound flirtatious when screamed over the loud music, but I didn't know what to say. How could I let her know that we thought she was cute and yes, we wanted her like she seemed to want us? It seemed like too complicated a concept to express.

So we just danced and looked at each other, little lingering looks that made me wet. My Owner snaked His arm around my waist and I kissed Him as she watched, wondering if she would like to kiss him too. It was pure fantasy, but I felt all the special possibilities opening up before me in that moment.

And I wonder where she is now.

Asexual

2009-08-17T09:00:00.001-04:00

We did everything that night, except fuck. It was raw and primal and intense; in short, it was everything that we love and everything that characterizes our dynamic.

He snapped His fingers. I crawled to Him.

He kicked me down onto the floor. I cringed.

He spanked me mercilessly. I sobbed until He knew I had had enough.

After it was over, we were spent. We curled up next to each other on the floor. I felt like all of the tension had been wrung out of my body. We looked at each other with those blissed-out looks on our faces, but neither of us had come.

It was perfectly unexpected.

Pent Up

2009-08-14T09:00:00.000-04:00

For a number of reasons, we spent last week together but we couldn't have sex.

It wasn't until the end of the week that we realized what that had done to us. In the absence of any sexual play between us, we had taken to sniping at each other. We both were constantly impatient and a tad testy. We didn't even realize that we were doing it.

Until, at the end of the week, after we had both come and were feeling much better, it dawned on me. Whatever sexual energy we regularly exercise, whatever play we used to get the small tensions out, had been all pent up. We needed the release, not just for our sanity but for the health of our relationship.

"Do you think that's a bad thing?," I asked Him once I realized what had happened.

"No, I think it's just part of who we are," He said and held me closer.

I really hope that we don't make that mistake again :-)

Health & Welfare

2009-08-12T09:00:00.001-04:00

This isn't really about my relationship with my Owner, but it is about me and my health so I think it's relevant. After all, my well-being is directly in His interest. A happy, healthy submissive makes for a good submissive, yes?

I started exercising seriously over the winter. I finally quit smoking in January after...oh god, this makes me so ashamed...smoking regularly for about 12 years. I loved smoking and was very serious about it. It was a huge part of who I was, even after it became more of a negative than a positive. I finally got sick of feeling awful and smelling awful and, like a truly vain person, didn't want to spend any more time destroying my skin with cigarettes.

So a few weeks after I quit, I started exercising in order to stay in a healthy frame of mind. I haven't touched a cigarette since, although I do dream about smoking quite often. (I guess it's still pretty deeply ingrained in my subconscious.) After I got in decent shape, I started running seriously. I'm totally obsessed with running now - the way it makes my body look and feel, the amazing high I get for hours after an early morning run, the noticeable metabolism rev that I can feel, etc. I even love saying that I'm a runner and having that as part of my identity. I think it speaks of a certain strength of character that I get out there on the road before most people are awake. Something about that makes me feel really alive and really strong.

In July, I ran my first 5K...my first road race in my life, period. I'm planning on running another in the fall. I'm really, really proud of my accomplishment, if you'll allow me this moment of complete non-humbleness. As I strode across that finish line, I could hardly believe that I was an out-of-shape smoker just seven months before.

Next, I'm thinking about taking up meditation. I'm a bundle of nerves, usually, although running has given me some rare moments of peace in my life as of late. But I would love to be able to find a way to bring more calmness into even more areas of my life. I tried yoga in the past and enjoyed it physically, but I was never able to obtain the serenity necessary to get its full benefits. Do any of you have experience with meditation or have any suggestions?

Rules, Rules, Rules

2009-08-10T16:04:00.002-04:00

Some submissives complain about rules set out by their Masters, but maybe I'm different. I love rules. I welcome them and thrive under them. My favorite rule is my bedtime because it helps me so, so much. My Owner really got that one right and I thank my lucky stars every day that I have Him to help me with my sleep schedule or I'd be the most unproductive Kitten ever.

The great thing about any set of rules imposed by my Owner is that the rules usually come with an explanation. My Owner sits down and tells me what the rules are and why the rules are. When I'm most confused and the situation is most uncertain, I love having the rules to carve out a safe course of conduct for my behavior. I love knowing where the boundaries are (better not to inadvertently to step over them) and I love the satisfaction in knowing when I am able to comply with my Owner's wishes to a T.

There are a lot of gray areas in my life, but things are better with my Owner when the lines are drawn in black and white. The clarity and security in knowing where I stand, even in the face of an onerous restriction, warms my submissive little heart in ways that I've only begun to explore. Let me know your feelings about your rules and whether you enjoy them, love/hate them or something else!

Fantasy/Horror

2009-08-07T15:20:00.000-04:00

He spun out a fantasy as He put me on my knees in front of Him and held me by the neck. That if I left - if we separated for some reason - I wouldn't last a day without Him.

"Correction, you wouldn't last half a day without me," He taunted

In his fantasy, I'd try to forget about Him. I'd fuck someone else and feel like I was high and free for a moment, but it would come crashing down soon enough. I'd be desperate to have Him back.

I didn't want Him to spin that fantasy out anymore. He was using the idea as sexual stimulation, but it just seems like a nightmare to me. I don't want to be without Him. I never want to do that inevitable dive from false euphoria to crumbling resolve to manic desperation. I know that I am unable to be without Him and I didn't want to think about it, even if it was turning Him on.

What He said was true: I would call Him and beg to see Him. He would refuse, but maybe He'd come over anyway. We'd fuck, rough, my face pushed up against the wall as He rammed me from behind. He'd hold my neck and ask me if I liked being free, if I felt good being a whore for someone else because that's what I'd become.

Kneeling before Him, I shook my head and felt the tears come to my eyes. At the same time, I could feel the wetness between my legs and that familiar pulse of lust in my cunt. He let go of my neck and smiled. "Wouldn't last a day," he said softly as He patted my cheek.

Looking for Love

2009-08-05T14:30:00.001-04:00

Is He right? Do I need more love than the average girl? Am I unhappy unless I am completely wrapped up and absorbed in someone's love and affection?

Am I needier than I should be?

Perhaps. I remember my profound dissatisfaction with my vanilla relationships. Something was always missing, and not just the spanking. Some sort of emotional comfort and security. I have been in love before, but it was never enough. I always wanted more - more devotion, more attention, more of whatever it was that I wasn't getting.

I've been single and I consider myself independent. But when I met my Owner, I knew that He was what I had been looking for all along. His overflowing heart and boundless affection were perfect for me. He has never been afraid to express how much He loves me and I've never felt like my ardor was too much either.

So, at the end of the day, I guess it doesn't matter if I need too much love. My owner and I are giving (and getting) exactly what we need from each other. But maybe I'm not alone out there, readers? Do those submissively-inclined among you see yourselves as needing more love?

Innocent

2009-08-03T09:00:00.001-04:00

The clothespin was innocently sitting on the kitchen table. I was minding my own business. I wasn't even paying any attention to it. I was just sitting there, enjoying a glass of wine with my Owner. He noticed it, picked it up, turned it over between His fingers. He held it up where I could see it. I felt my breathing deepen and change. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the look in His eye, but I felt my pulse beat a little faster.

He led me over to the couch, where he stripped me of my shirt and pulled my skirt up around my waist. He pinched my right nipple between his fingers until it got hard, then He clamped on the clothespin. He watched me carefully as I squirmed, a little at first and then more as the pressure set in.

He switched to the other nipple, lamenting the fact that He only had one clothespin at hand. He went back and forth, watching, flicking the clothespin and waiting for me to cry out. Then He really started to torture me.

He clipped the clothespin to my clit. If you haven't experienced this sensation - and I hadn't before this moment - then you have no idea the intensity of the feeling. It's somewhere beyond pain, it's more like a searing white lightening bolt. And when He forced three fingers inside of me at the same time? I howled like I was being skinned alive.

I also dripped all over His fingers, down His hand, everywhere. After that, we fucked like it was the first time, or the last time. I want the clothespins again, I want Him on top of me on the floor, pumping deep into me, I want His hand on my throat and his breath hot on my ear.

I want Him and I cannot wait until next time.

Comprehending

2009-08-01T09:00:00.000-04:00

No matter how much control you think you've surrendered, there comes a time when you realize how much farther there is to go. There comes a time when something more is demanded of you and you give it, even though you didn't think it was possible.

I can't explain what happened - even if my Owner hadn't forbidden me from talking about it, I couldn't describe it. But I need only say that it shook my understanding of how powerful He is and how connected we are. It makes me wonder what either of us would be without the other, as if my whole being depends on His existence on this planet. That sounds over-dramatic, but these are dramatic times between us.

Oh, I can tell you this small part...

He made me come with his mind.

About Last Night

2009-07-30T09:00:00.001-04:00

Last night, I fucked someone other than my Owner.

I met him by the pool at the resort on my vacation. I saw him looking at me from across the lounge chairs. His eyes followed me as I walked from my seat to the pool. When I got out, I approached him. I put out my hand and invited him for a drink in my room, which was right nearby.

We didn't touch until we were alone in the room. I sat next to him on the couch and put my drink on the table. I waited for him to make a move, to realize that we weren't there to chat. He kissed me and pulled me closer. His eyes were wide as I undid my bikini top and let it fall to the floor in between us. I knelt in front of him and pulled his cock from his pants.

As we moved to the bed, he marveled at how he couldn't believe that this was happening. I smiled and straddled him on the bed. As I slid down onto him, he asked my name. "Who are you?," he wondered, "What's your name, even?" I put my finger to his lips as I fucked him slowly. "Shh," I moaned in his ear, "You ask too many questions."

He moaned loudly as I slid off of his cock and knelt over him to take him into my mouth. He moaned even more loudly when I fingered my own asshole as I sucked on him. When he came hard in my mouth, my cunt clenched tight and I came too.

He groaned softly and buried his face in my hair as we laid next to each other on the bed in the late afternoon sunlight. "Can I see you again? My friends won't believe that this happened," he said.

"Sure, maybe you should bring one along next time..."

*****

"So, that's how I'd do it," I told Him as we laid side-by-side in a post-orgasmic haze. "If the time is right and you give the okay, that's exactly what I'd do with him."

"You'd do it just like that?," He panted, looking at me with lust in His eyes.

"Yes, and I'll tell you all about it later," I said as we started to fuck again.

Skirting

2009-07-28T12:07:00.002-04:00

I was in a giggly mood. We were cuddling on his bed. He started fumbling with the top button of my jean skirt and tickling my stomach in the process. "Get this off," He joked and He tried the button again, with no success.

"There are, like, eight more of those," I told him, pointing to the buttons that run all the way down the front of the skirt.

"Fuck that," He laughed and threw up his hands. "It's like a puzzle!" I laughed at his exasperation. He is adorable.

He laughed too and we dissolved into giggles as I undid the skirt. He pulled me close and kissed me, still laughing.

It's good to be back.

Goodbye

2009-07-08T15:20:00.001-04:00

Don't be alarmed - I'm only going away for a week.

My Owner and I said goodbye last night and it was very difficult. We spent a lot of time last night curled up together on the couch. Neither one of us wanted to let go. It was getting late and I had to leave, but we just couldn't stop holding each other close. I was teary-eyed and He looked so sad.

Eventually, I got up to leave. He stood me in front of him and stared at me for a long time. I wasn't sure if He was going to let me go or if He was going to do something to me. He just had that glint in his eye. He snapped his fingers and I knew to drop to my knees. He stroked my hair and then ordered me to bow at his feet.

I pressed my face against the tops of his feet and, suddenly, I was hit with how much I didn't want to be without Him for the next week. I started sobbing, humbled by kneeling in front of him. I swept my hair across his feet as I clutched him around the ankles. My tears fell on the ground in front of Him. I could feel his hands caressing my back as I cried.

After a moment, He went around behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I stayed bent over as He unbuttoned my pants and pulled them down around my knees. I was breathless from crying and now the anticipation. I was reeling with the shift from soft sorrow to arousal and passion.

He entered me from behind, speaking to me gently and still caressing my back. "Daddy's here, don't worry Kitten, it's okay Kitten," He cooed as we fucked slowly, feeling each other intimately for the last time for a week. "I love you."

Process

2009-07-01T12:00:00.000-04:00

I keep trying to write some smut, but everything I write seems to be about women. I admit it - ever since our experience in March, my bisexuality has been rearing its pretty head. To my Owner's glee, I've been leering at girls everywhere we go, including a the cute blonde at the book store and the quirky check-out girl at the grocery store. I'm nowhere near open enough to approach these girls, but I am expending a lot of mental energy thinking about them.

A few weeks ago, I went to a gay pride parade in my local city with a gay friend of mine. He has been to a lot of these types of events since he came out, but it was my first pride parade. I was really bowled over. There were so many women who like women there - where have they been hiding? I never see them as I travel the city during the week or go out on weekends. But there they were, kissing and flirting in public. This community has really been hidden from me and I felt like I had just discovered a secret world.

If it's possible, that experience set my thoughts toward women even more. Their beautiful bare shoulders and their long bare legs on a summer day...their soft breasts and lips pressed against me...their hair tickling my back as they lean over me...their fingers probing inside my wetness...their moans in my ear as I draw out their orgasm...

*Ahem.* Sorry, I can get a little carried away. Care to hear more?

Year One/Year Two

2009-06-29T16:20:00.000-04:00

It's amazing to me how different the second year of our relationship has been from the first year. That first year was so unlike any time in a relationship that I've ever had - scary and unknown, but also innocent and sweet. Everything was murky then, where we were going and how we were going to get there. We spent so much of our energy figuring out our roles, and then figuring out how to stick with them, and then figuring out how to change the things that didn't work for us.

Now, in our second year, things are so much more natural. After some trouble that we had in December, we came back stronger than ever. That was a big blow-up, but I think we needed that - the same way that forests need cleansing fires in order to grow. We've been in complete sync ever since. Our second year has been one of improvements and growth and great new experiences.

I feel like we've finally figured it out and settled into our roles. I call him "Owner" so instinctively that I don't realize when I do it out in public, or in front of my friends. Everyone knows that he calls me "Kitten," even if they don't really know what that means. We don't even think about it much anymore. I still get mouthy sometimes, but I know my place and I know what to expect. He is comfortable in his dominance, so much so that He doesn't always have to use a heavy hand in order to keep me in control. The best part is is that I feel like we're on the same side, always. It's us together in everything and I know that we're going exactly where we need to go, together.

I think the key to how well this has worked out is that we let these roles, the rules and our whole dynamic emerge organically. We didn't have a blueprint from the established S&M scene or anyone else's relationship as a model of how to do things. I'm sure there are examples out there on the internet, where there is invariably always someone to tell you that their way is the "true" way. But we've done it on our own and managed to find our own way. It might not work for anyone else, so please don't take this as advice. We were inexperienced coming into this, so our lack of expectations helped us; obviously, an experienced person would be frustrated with some of the bumbling and false starts to be disappointing.

I'm feeling unbelievably optimistic today, which is funny because I've used this blog so much as a place to air my negative feelings. But the thing is: I know now that we He says that He'll own me forever, that He means it and that it is possible. It is possible. At this point, anything is possible.

Fight, fight, fight

2009-06-18T12:21:00.005-04:00

Thanks to subtletimes for the topic suggestion. She asked for the details of our last "fight/argument."

I talked this over with my Owner and we were basically unable to come up with anything. We squabble from time to time, but we haven't had a big fight over actual relationship issues in about six months. We disagree and have difficultly communicating every couple of weeks, which I think is normal. Also, I tend to get overtired late at night because I'm on a pretty strict schedule for work, while He's more of a night owl. By 11 pm, I can get like an overtired toddler - I cycle from hyper, to comatose, to crying in the span of an hour. He knows my moods and can read me pretty well, so He tries to put me to bed before I get out of control. But I still get crabby sometimes and lose my patience when I speak to Him, which is never good.

But those occasional incidents are not really fights, per se. Not like the time six months into our relationship when I got so angry at Him that I put his belongings in a paper bag and drove over to His house with them. I intended to throw the bag at Him and never see Him again. Hilariously, I made the thirty-minute drive to His house that night in about fifteen minutes. He joked later that I drove at pyscho speed! I know that I really offended Him that night because I was just going to throw our relationship away because I was upset. It took a long time to recover from that, but I learned not to react that way in the future.

The oddest thing is that I can't even remember what it was that we were arguing about that night. I just remember that in the middle of a tense moment, we were standing by my car and He went to throw his gum out onto the ground. He looked at me and said in this super-serious voice: "Time out. I need to ask you something." I nodded, thinking that we were about to make some life-changing relationship decision. Then He said, "Can racoons choke on gum?," and we both started cracking up. He was so concerned that a racoon was going to come by and choke on his discarded gum that He couldn't even think about what we were arguing about at that moment. It was so funny, and it diffused all the tension so that we could resolve whatever it was that we were arguing about in the first place.

So, thanks again for the topic. My Owner's suggestion for topics is that I write some good old-fashioned smut, so you have that to look forward to sometime soon. Keep your suggestions coming in by e-mail or in the comments!

Ideas

2009-06-15T14:11:00.003-04:00

Unlike my Owner, who never runs out of great kinky ideas, I'm finding it difficult to come up with things to write about here as of late. Maybe you noticed? If so, I apologize. It's not that there isn't anything going on, because there is, or that we're not doing anything new and interesting, because we are. I could write about the amazing anal sex that we had to start off our Saturday, or the way that He made me come for about 10 minutes straight yesterday, but haven't we already covered that? Maybe I've just lost that blogging mojo. Help me get it back, dear readers? Leave suggestions, questions and/or topics of conversation in the comments or drop me an e-mail. Let's see if I can get back on track.

Skin

2009-06-02T12:00:00.000-04:00

I got my first tattoo a few weeks ago. The tattoo is an interpretation of a drawing of several naked women who appear to be floating, each with long dark flowing hair. I think the tattoo is beautifully done and I am very happy to have this tattoo after years of indecision.

I decided on this design during the past year as I started to come to terms with my sexuality, not just my dedication to submission but my bisexuality. It is something that I have kept hidden from those closest to me - and from myself, even - for years. My desire for women is one of my first sexual memories and my earliest sexual experiences were with women. But, for whatever reasons based on my repressive childhood or religious upbringing, I always kept that hidden away.

I still carry a great deal of shame about these experiences and I am not open about my bisexuality. This is something that my Owner and I have been discussing a lot and will be working on. I hope to be more open one day, but I am still in the closet with most everyone in my life. But the tattoo is a semi-public way for me to celebrate my love for women and this part of myself. It is a hope for the future, that I one day can proudly display and be comfortable in my own skin.

New

2009-05-29T17:56:00.004-04:00

Oh, how I love my shiny new vibrator! I broke my last one, or it died a natural death. Either way, it served me well for several years. On Monday, my Owner and I bought me a new one.

I don't need a fancy vibrator with attachments and probes and bells and whistles. I just need a smooth, continuously vibrating toy that I can apply to my clit. We bought a basic one, one that will hopefully last another few years...although with the way we used it that first day, I don't hold out much hope for a long, vibrating life.

We cleaned it and put it right to use when we got home. I was already wet with anticipation. He laid between my legs and put his face up close to my cunt to watch me play. When I came, He pushed my hand back down and made sure that I came two more times right away.

I wasn't sated yet. I begged Him to fuck me as I continued to writhe with the vibrator buzzing against me. He obliged, entering me and instructing me to keep the vibrator against my clit. I held it between us where we could both feel it, and I could tell from the look in His eyes that he really enjoyed the feel of the toy as he thrust into me. I came even harder on his cock than I had before - an incandescent orgasm that felt like a total white-out of feeling below my waist. Before I could stop gasping, He came inside me with a loud moan.

I set the vibrator down on the bed next to us. "So, I think that was a good purchase," He understated. All I could do was nod in agreement :-)

Family Matters

2009-05-21T17:10:00.003-04:00

I've been having problems with my family lately and I know that it comes from things that I'm going through in my relationship. My parents haven't changed - they are still the same over-involved parents that they have always been. If they had their way, they would continue to be super involved in my life, there would be no boundaries, and they would be the figures looming largest in my life.

I'm 29 years old, so that's probably not a healthy situation. I know that some people live geographically close to their parents and are really involved with their families in a healthy way, but that's not what it would be like for us. I see how they are with my sister, who lives in the same town. They are really involved with every part of her life, which she doesn't seem to mind. But I could never do that. I've resisted a bit in the past, but now I'm in a state of all-out rebellion because of my relationship. I'm directly challenging my parents because the most important person in my life - the person I go to when I need help or guidance and the one who is in charge of what I do - is now my Owner, not them.

I've been more vocal when they try to encroach on my turf, partly because I know that He sees them as manipulative and controlling and He has encouraged me to push back. Obviously, He has an interest in this change in me: his control is solidified as their control on me is loosened. But I don't think things are as sinister as that for Him. Instead, I think he sees (as my therapist sees) that I'm on the road toward accepting who I really am and that part of that journey involves separating from my parents. It's just causing all of this tension and I've been pulling away. There's so much about my relationship that I can't tell them anyway, but now I sense that they are truly unhappy with the way the situation has turned out.

I don't know where we go from here. I'm trying to assert my independence and eventually get to a place where I don't need their approval, but that's very difficult for me. I'm still terribly hung up on the fact that I've been seeking their approval my whole life. And when I realized this week in therapy that I'll never get it because I'll never be good enough for them, no matter what I do, it practically broke my heart. So that place where I am happy enough with who I am that I no longer need their approval, that place where I can relate to them without feeling torn apart, seems so far off from where I am right now. I hope that we can continue with our relationship in the meantime and make things better, but I see rough times ahead.

Safe

2009-05-18T18:31:00.002-04:00

"You feel very cared for right now, don't you?," He asked. We stood in the aisle of the grocery store, semi-oblivious to the shoppers around us. He was helping me with a health issue that had come up, something that I tried (and failed) to handle on my own.

I nodded and continued to clutch his hand in both of mine. He led me toward the checkout, steering the cart with one hand and letting me cling to the other.

"Kitten, Kitten, Kitten...what am I going to do with you?," He teased gently as I nuzzled my face against his shoulder in the checkout line.

"Keep me?," I asked quietly with a smile on my face.

"Yes, I think I'll keep you," He said and pulled me closer.

Welcome

2009-05-11T15:45:00.003-04:00

From time to time, I get to thinking about this blog and its place in my life. I look at my stats and look back over my posting history. On the whole, this blog has been a positive experience. On the other hand, there have been a few hiccups along the way. I was especially hurt a few months ago by an online flurry of negativity. It really hit home and it upset me.

No more.

Now? Please. I welcome my visitors from other corners of the web. Please, feel free to poke around and read about my experiences. You might find that you can learn something. Or you might continue to judge me without any basis whatsoever. Either way, I'll keep being owned and happy, and you'll keep being...well, whatever it is that makes you so damn angry about what goes on in my bedroom.

*kisses!*

It's the Little Things

2009-05-06T09:00:00.000-04:00

Him: Are you taking your vitamins kitten?
Me: Sometimes, yes
Him: Kitten. Every day. Ok?
Me: Yes sir
Him: Good girl. Try hard for me ok?
Me: I will, Owner. I'm sorry
Him: It's ok Kitten. I just want you to be nice and healthy
Me: I know, thank you for looking out for me :)

Belt

2009-05-04T11:54:00.003-04:00

I knelt on the floor with His belt around my neck. He took the length that he had been using to pull me to his cock and wrapped it around my neck again. He pulled it tight and put the end between my teeth. I gripped it there, afraid of what he was doing, afraid of how tightly he was pulling the belt around my neck. He wiped his cock on my face, mixing the saliva with the tears on my cheeks.

I trembled. Was this my punishment for last night? Was he still angry at me, and would his anger grow out of control until he pushed me harder than I was able to go? What was going to happen? This had all happened so suddenly.

I felt the red mark on my stomach where he had whipped me with the belt as I laid on the bed, before he dragged me onto the floor. I knew that I would have a mark that would last days. I knew that I deserved it, that I should take some of his anger as payment for what I had done.

But how much? Where would he take me this time?

Darken

2009-04-26T09:00:00.001-04:00

Would you believe me if I told you that my Owner can make his eyes go almost completely black at will? That he can dilate his pupils, and just as quickly make them go back to normal?

Well, it doesn't really matter if you believe me or not. I saw it happen.

One minute he was growling and clawing at my back, ordering me to ride him facing away from him as he swatted at my ass. He hit me harder and harder, until I leaped off of his cock in pain. He trapped me as I tried to scramble away and bit me hard on the shoulder. I arched my back and cried out, and then he bit me one each breast as he pinned me down. I cowered away from him, sneaking a look up at him snarling above me. And his eyes were completely black, like he was possessed or a vampire. He looked just barely in control and I was afraid.

I put my hands over my face, but instead of attacking again, he laid calmly next to me and stroked my hair. I uncovered my eyes and saw him looking down at me with his warm, chocolate eyes back to normal. In that moment, his pupils had retracted and he was feigning a look of innocence.

I still don't know how he did it (and if it is some sort of trick that you all know, I'd rather you kept it from me). He claims that I imagined it, like so many other things that I have seen that I know that he has done that he claims he knows nothing about. Like the mind reading, I know that that is real. But this? How could this be real? But at the same time, how could I have imagined it?

Never Have I Ever

2009-04-24T11:36:00.004-04:00

I never have been able to figure out where certain of our lines are. It's not that they are shifting or that He hides them from me, but just that things are too complex to be able to pinpoint where the lines are most times.

Like, where is the line between "I listen to you because I value your opinion" and "I am deciding against you, even though you disagree"?

Where is the line between "Trust that I will never take advantage of you" and "Because I'm the Owner and I say so"?

I'm guessing that He would say that often both rules apply at the same time, at his discretion. That our relationship encompasses lots of mutually-contradictory rules that we somehow manage to follow. It all makes sense to Him, so I should probably just go along and stop wondering. But I am an inquisitive Kitten and I'm constantly taking us apart to see how we work.

Denial

2009-04-17T09:00:00.001-04:00

"Touch yourself and tell me when you're going to come," He said as he laid next to me, watching. I started playing with my clit and felt my pussy get wetter and wetter. I was moaning softly. I looked up at him and asked to come. "Get closer," He ordered and I kept playing. "Can I come now? Please?," I begged. He paused and I grew closer to orgasm. "No, stop," He said suddenly and I pulled my hand away sharply.

Then He did it again, allowing me to get close to coming and ordering me to stop. Each time I pulled away my hand quickly, but reluctantly. I knew that I would get a slap if I didn't stop, but I was unhappy about it.

Then He crouched between my legs and teased my inner thighs with his tongue. "Do you want to come?," He asked lightly. "Yes, please," I begged breathlessly. After what felt like an eternity, He finally touched his tongue to my clit and moved it unbearably slowly. "Fingers, please," I gasped, indicating that I wanted him to finger-fuck me while he licked my clit (a surefire way to orgasm for me). He slid two fingers into my pussy. I was just about to come. I begged, "Please, please, can I? Daddy please?" He said yes, and I felt the first wave about to break. That's when He pulled away and out of me.

I looked up in shock and squirmed with pent-up sexual frustration. Was he denying me? He laid next to me and touched my face.

"When you were about to come, what did I do?"

"You stopped," I said plainly, wondering if it was a trick question.

"And when I tell you to stop walking and wait, what should you do?"

"I should stop." Oh, I knew what this was. This was punishment.

"Good, then now you know how to stop. I just showed you," He said a touch smugly. "Maybe I should let you touch yourself and come while you suck my cock?," He asked.

"I would like that, please," I said tentatively.

"I bet you would. No, it's time for bed."

My mouth fell open. I had to come, I needed to come or I would be awake and out-of-sorts all night! He had never denied me an orgasm before. I couldn't believe it. A tear leaked out of my eye and I brushed it away, embarrassed. I sat up and smoothed my nightgown back over my thighs in a defeated gesture. Just as I was about to get up, He grabbed my arm.

"Oh, okay, you can come once, but I hope you learned your lesson," He chided with a wag of his finger. I smiled and crawled eagerly toward Him.

Bed

2009-04-15T09:00:00.000-04:00

We were angry at each other when we laid down for a nap. It was dim and gray in the room, and we laid down on opposite ends of the king-sized bed. We weren't even close to touching, which was odd because we usually sleep with our limbs intertwined and our faces pressed up against each other.

As we slept and the room grew dark with the evening, we let some of our anger go. We woke up close to each other. For a minute after I woke up, I forgot that I was supposed to be mad.

"Hi," I sighed sleepily.

"Hi," He said with a sad note in his voice.

Then I remembered and turned away. He reached out a hand and slid it over my hip, placing his palm flat on my stomach and pulling me to him. I tried to hold a grudge, but I really couldn't remember why I was supposed to be mad anymore. I slid over next to him. I let him cradle me in his arms and I tucked my head into the crook of his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," He whispered into my hair.

"I am too, I'm sorry," I murmured in response. We both sighed and He tightened his arms around my body.

The Aftermath

2009-04-13T14:10:00.005-04:00

That title is so ominous, but the aftermath of our weekend fun with another couple was pure hilarity.

We all left the hotel together, chatting easily in the elevator. We breezed through the lobby, impervious to the stares from the staff. Maybe they knew why we were checking out early, or maybe my skirt was just too short. In any case, I didn't care. I loved being with my Owner and this couple, out and comfortable with my relationship for the first time.

We parted in the parking lot with hugs. She whispered in my ear as she embraced me, and I knew that neither of us would forget our special time together.

As He and I got in the truck together and drove away, we burst out into giggles. "What?," He asked, laughing. "Nothing, what's with you?," I laughed back. "Oh, nothing," and He kept laughing. We were tired and a little giddy and oddly energized.

"Are you hungry?," He asked as we approached a Burger King on the highway.

"No, but I'll get a drink," I said. (For the record, I don't usually eat fast food. It's bad for a Kitten's figure.)

"Ok, but I'm getting Burger Shots," He said teasingly.

"No way!"

"Oh, I am. We just had a foursome and I am getting Burger Shots!," He announced.

"Okay, I guess you deserve them. For your efforts," I giggled.

Our spirits were high as we ate the little burgers in the truck, laughing and joking lightly about the events of our evening. To His delight, He even got me to eat two little burgers - I was hungry too!

And even though we were tired when we got home, we fucked before bed anyway. We held each other close and looked into each others' eyes as we came, like we knew that we had shared a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

Punishment

2009-04-07T13:00:00.001-04:00

I bent over my Owner's lap and closed my eyes. I touched my fingertips to the ground to steady myself, but I needn't have bothered. My Owner had his arm gripped tightly around my waist. He had the paddle in his hand - I knew because I had brought it over to him - and he was ready. Her Master sat across from me on the edge of the bed. He leaned forward intently as we got ready. She was across the room, in the corner, facing the wall.

My Owner started paddling me and I took a deep breath with every blow. I felt her Master lean closer. He began to speak to me.

He told me that I was an inconsiderate bitch for what I had done. He called me those names. He punished me with his words as my Owner punished me with the paddle. They formed this united force - one dominant field of energy, working together on my punishment. I knew that I was wrong, I knew that I deserved this. I was only shocked that her Master knew exactly what to say...that he said exactly what my Owner had said the week before when I got into trouble in the first place. He knew. Her Master just knew.

I managed not to cry, I'm not sure how. A beating like that should easily reduce me to a sobbing mess. She thinks it was because she was there to take some of my pain. She might be right. The strength of her kneeling there, hearing each blow and my attempts not to cry out, she absorbed all of the energy coming off of me. Just as my Owner and her Master were channeling each other, she and I were right there together, slaves in pain.

Questions

2009-04-02T17:30:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I wish that I didn't doubt or question. But I do. The doubts creep up at the oddest times, like last night. I don't know why it happened because I was feeling so good after my latest therapy session and my amazing weekend, but it happened anyway. I couldn't take His comment that he is allowed to do X because he is the Owner while I am not allowed to do X because I am the Kitten. I wanted to get off of the phone right away when he said that. I didn't want to listen anymore.

My emotional reaction to his statement brought up all kinds of questions that I wish I could say are gone at this point. I thought that I'd be over asking "why" after almost a year and a half. I know that that's not long in the grand scheme of things, but I thought that those questions would just go away at some point. I've felt stronger and more sure of myself lately, but I still push back and I still challenge.

I am a hard nut to crack, I guess. Or maybe I'm just like everyone else and others cover it better. Who's to say what the usual process is for any of us, anyway? Maybe I'm ahead of the curve or maybe I'm a slow learner. I wish I didn't feel the weight of these questions so much, but what can I expect when I carry these questions around by myself all the time?

Sometimes I wish I wasn't this way, that I could be happy with a normal life. I wish that I could turn off those voices in my head that want pain or degradation. Sometimes I wish that I didn't know about S&M so that I could go back to pretending to be a happy vanilla person. I wish that I could accept myself as I am.

I wish that I could accept myself. I wish that I didn't have to be ashamed or afraid. I wish that I could feel normalcy in this life. I wonder if it will happen over time. Right now, it seems like a roadblock. I need to move forward, move through it. I don't exactly know how.

Until I figure that out, I'm afraid that I will continue to test Him, and test myself. I don't want to be a pain, at least but I know that He's not ready to give up on me any time soon. I just feel bad. I could be so much better for Him if I could just get over myself.

The Room, II

2009-03-31T18:00:00.001-04:00

She laid on her stomach with her arms folded along the small of her back and her feet in the air. I helped her Master fasten the cuffs to hogtie her. I slid a small pillow under her head and knelt on the bed beside her as he slid the dildo into her cunt.

I stroked her back and watched her hips start to move against his hand. My eyes were on her, but my mind was floating away, spinning out all of the possibilities. I snapped back to attention when her Master called my name, telling me to take his place.

He put the dildo in my hand and I stared down at it. My Owner came up behind me and guided my hand toward her cunt. I slid the dildo in slowly and heard her sigh. I started fucking her, building up to a good rhythm along with her hips. "Fuck her like a man, Kitten," her Master ordered from his place beside her. My Owner stood behind me, whispering small words of encouragement.

I fucked her harder and watched her writhe on the bed in front of me. My mouth was hanging open in awe and disbelief. Was I really doing this?

I could feel her wetness dripping out of her, and she started begging to be allowed to come. The moment her Master said yes, she suddenly she seized upon the dildo and cried out. I could feel her coming as I fucked her harder, my Owner's hand resting gently on the back of my neck.

The Room

2009-03-30T18:00:00.001-04:00

She pulled my hand toward her and pressed it against her breastbone. I tilted my forehead toward hers and smiled shyly.

We were curled together in the middle of the big hotel room bed. Candles flickered all around us. It was late - what time was it again? I had lost track - and we were breathing together quietly. I was nearly naked, but I didn't notice.

"I know you're nervous," she whispered, "but you could kiss me sometime before it's time to go." She giggled and bit her lip. I laughed with her, propping my head up on my elbow. I brushed the hair back from her forehead. "Come here, you," I sighed, and I touched my lips to hers.

They were so soft, they made me melt. I remembered suddenly why I love women so much. (And the beautiful thing about them is that their soft lips are just the beginning.)

We kissed deeper and deeper, winding our hands in each others' hair. When our lips parted, we laid back against the pillows, touching hands.

"Do you think they're watching us?," I whispered.

"Definitely, but I'm not going to look," she laughed.

"What are you girls talking about over there?," He called playfully from his seat on the other side of the room.

"Girl talk?," her Master asked and the two men laughed.

We looked up and laughed as they came over to us. We kissed again.

This and That

2009-03-27T09:00:00.003-04:00

It would be one thing if He just made me do what I do not want to do by force. If I could just be unhappy about it and get over it in my own time, or maybe resent him for it. Blame him and pretend like I don't want this life where he has complete control over me. That would be an easy way to be the victim here and escape the darkness of my own choices. If he forced me, that would be one thing.

But that's not how it works. He makes me do things, but he wants me to like it. He explains and reasons with me so that I understand. And he does not let me pout about it, or drag my feet while I serve. I have to accept it, I have to smile and I have to be happy. I cannot fake that. I must process my resistance quickly and I must choose this life, over and over again. I must say, "Yes, Sir" and I must sound like I mean it.

It must be strange, and strangely powerful, to be Him. To expect to get his way all the time and to expect me to always be happy about it. If he were any other man, I'd say that the least he could do would be to let me be upset, but he's not any other man. Because he is this man, he gets everything he wants, eventually.

Disparity

2009-03-25T15:00:00.001-04:00

We have these funny little moments. Like where He makes a joke at my expense and I laugh, then I make a joke at his expense and am met with stony silence. Because it is not funny when I do it. And the difference is that one of us is the Owner and the other one of us is owned. And we are different.

That's cute, when he pulls up and reminds me that we are not equal, even where innocuous banter is concerned. I fake-sigh like I am put out, but I am not put out. It doesn't feel like a big deal. And I want Him to be over me or I wouldn't have chosen this life.

But there are other times when the disparity between us seems like a very big deal. When I cannot do something that He can do just because He says so...that is very difficult, especially if it affects something major in my life or requires a big shift in my behavior. It may mean that I have to take what I would never be allowed to dish out. It may mean that I am not heard when I have something to say. It may mean that I do not get to decide things for myself. It often means that. It's these moments when I am not comforted in my submission and I struggle to locate the strength that I am supposed to find here.

I read something today that said that sometimes freedom is more important than happiness. That made me pause. I give up my freedom every day and sometimes it feels like what remaining freedoms I may have are being wrung out of me. I choose enslavement because it brings me happiness. Would I be better off, if unhappy, if I were free? I can't see how being deliberately unhappy on my own would be beneficial, but I haven't lived a free life in quite a while. Maybe I have lost touch with what that would feel like. I can imagine it and it seems a very hollow way to live.

But anyway. I know that this is my choice and I choose to stay every day. Some days it is just a little more difficult than others.

The Other

2009-03-17T12:11:00.004-04:00

I sit on his lap facing away from him, my legs spread wide and my feet planted outside his. I am only wearing a pair of panties and I can feel his chest against my naked back. He slides his hand into my panties and slowly teases my clit with his fingers as his other hand reaches to pinch my nipples. I arch back against him and he slides his fingers inside me.

"Put your fingers in her mouth," my Owner says from his seat across the room. The man brings his fingers, wet from my cunt, up to my lips and I lick them hungrily. I keep my eyes on my Owner the whole time.

I turn away from my Owner, toward the man and face him on his lap. He pulls my panties aside as he enters me. I can hear my Owner stroking his cock and moaning softly. The man puts his hands under my ass cheeks and guides me slowly up and down on his cock.

I turn back to look at my Owner, a smile on my lips. "Such a good girl," He moans, "Such a good girl for me."

Disclaimer: This is just a fantasy. But a girl can dream, can't she?

Readership

2009-03-02T22:50:00.001-05:00

After what happened a couple of weeks ago and all of the negative attention I received for this bog, my Owner sought out the blog and read it for the first time. He didn't read the whole thing - that would take forever! - but he did read enough to get a sense of what goes on here. He wants to make sure that I am doing okay. He is always looking out for me.

He's not reading everyday, just checking in from time to time. (Hi Owner! I love you!). I'm glad that he's keeping an eye on me. I thought that I would be upset that my last private space is now His n but I'm not. I'm happy to share this him and give him a little insight into my thoughts. I'm feeling comfortable in my submission and welcome this extra bit of control. And I know that he doesn't want to interfere here, nor does he want this blog to devolve into a tool for airing our grievances at each other. Our communication needs to stay open and genuine and it needs to stay out of the public eye.

I'm hoping that once he becomes comfortable with the blog, he will consider contributing something from his perspective. I know that he sees some of what we do in a radically different way than I do and I'd love to explore that with you all. Plus he's really hot and effortlessly creative in his dominance. Where does he get his devious ideas like his idea for Silent Kitten day (a whole day of no talking and completely silent submission for me)? Inquiring minds want to know!

So watch this space...I know He is!

Relax

2009-02-24T13:36:00.003-05:00

I was in a real state last Thursday. I had an unexpectedly stressful day and was facing a grueling presentation on Friday morning. I was not prepared to handle the day's stress and I just wanted to curl up and hide away from the world. I didn't want to face my responsibilities, even though I knew that I had to.

That night, I was in a funk even before I got home and met up with Him. I had looked forward to seeing him all week and didn't want to cancel on him, although my instinct was to spend the evening alone, stewing in my bad mood. He saw the cross look on my face from the second that we hugged and I worried about how my distracted state would upset our evening together.

Instead of letting me spend the entire evening in a funk, he took matters into his own hands. He pulled me into the bedroom and laid me down on the bed next to him. I was suddenly grateful for the distraction. I put my lips near his ear and told him that I needed him to hurt me. It seemed like the only way to rearrange my head. His eyes flashed and he moved toward me quickly.

He was unrelenting, slapping my face and holding me down. He dragged me to the edge of the bed so that he could fuck my face, ignoring the tears rolling up my face as he hung my head over the edge of the bed. Already, I could feel the tension slipping out of my body. I could hear the quiet hum in my head as I scrambled to keep up with him and I let everything but the moment slip away from me. I heard my therapist in my head, urging me to just breathe and be present in my submission. I relaxed every muscle of my body.

He draped me over his knee and started to spank me. I sobbed with relief with every spank, gripping the arm that held me in place over his lap. He took out my collar and I expected him to put it on me, if only to reinforce the calm feeling of my submission, but he whipped my ass with it instead. I wasn't sure at the time, but I thought that he was using the buckle side and it stung very badly. The metal bit into me and I took deep breath after deep breath to stay there, to let everything flow through me.

Finally, he placed a pillow in front of me and urged me to hit it. I had mentioned earlier that I needed to take up kickboxing to get out all of my frustration from the day, and I guess this was his version of that. I felt silly at first, unconvincingly punching the pillow with my fists, but soon I got the hang of it. I pounded the pillow as I let out the last of my tension, crying out with each blow, and let the final tears slide down my cheeks.

I slid down to the floor in front of him and rested my head on his knee. I held onto his leg as I panted. He smiled down at me. "Feel better, Kitten?" I nodded happily. It was as if my terrible day had never happened.

Collared

2009-02-18T15:30:00.003-05:00

I stood in front of him, completely naked except for the collar. He looked up at me, his eyes wide. I wasn't sure what he was thinking - was he afraid or in awe? - but something certainly had changed. The way he was looking at me...it was indescribable.

He touched his fingertips to my skin and I shivered. He slowly started touching me all over, my breasts and stomach, legs, turning me around, up and down my back. He kissed me softly and my skin felt hot under his lips. He was being so gentle and so careful. It was like he was afraid to break me, but I felt stronger than ever with his collar around my neck.

He laid me down on the bed and spread my legs apart. His mouth touched my cunt and I could feel my climax building already. As he gently worked his tongue on my clit, he slid two fingers into me.

I felt for the collar around my neck as I came, like I couldn't believe that this had finally happened. All the work that I had done over the last fourteen months, all the struggle and the joy, had finally come to this one moment. It was like a singularity. Everything that came before built up to this point, coming together, coalescing faster and faster, until it reached maximum pressure and then bam...and now everything that comes after spins out from this point.

In many ways things feel exactly the same. Except that now I have his collar to hold at night when I'm scared.

About Control

2009-02-15T09:00:00.000-05:00

To me, the most interesting part of my relationship is the control. The physical elements aren't awfully groundbreaking, although they are exciting. The physical part isn't hard for me to understand. The control is different.

In a way, I have a closer connection to the control than to the physical element of my relationship. I crave it more, and more often. It is something that I am connected to in a very visceral manner. The fact that the nature of the craving for this control is somewhat a mystery to me is really puzzling and is something that I have been working through. Because I am at the point where I have accepted all of my desires, I need to become more comfortable and fully understand control before I can move forward. I am right on the cusp of that. I need to do this to move ahead.

As an initial matter, what I mean when I speak about control: I mean all of the non-physical elements of our dynamic, those ones that occur outside of context of the bedroom. I mean any rules or restrictions that I have, my bedtime, the guidelines that I follow when I speak to Him and any general guidelines on my behavior. Occasionally the expression of His control can be harsh, but most often it is caring and benevolent. He enforces my bedtime in order to help me look after myself and put my health first. It is sweet and welcome for me. On the whole, I don't think my rules are that onerous. What is interesting is that they ebb and flow, increasing in intensity when I need them and relaxing when I need to focus elsewhere. He is very in tune to my emotional state and uses control to serve his ends as my Owner, but He is also always careful to keep me in balance.

What do I feel when I am controlled? Maybe if I can trace this backward I can figure it out. In essence, I feel safe. I feel like I have been wrapped in a warm blanket. It is very comforting. Sometimes when I am having a hard time, I will ask Him to speak to me over the phone in that tone of voice that he uses, the one that only I get to hear, and I am immediately calm. We speak about feeling his hand on the back of my neck, which he physically does when we are together, but it also has a metaphorical component. I am secure and guided by his hand on my neck. I am comforted.

And I do not feel alone. I think that is the most important part. I have lived on my own since I left my parents' house at 18. Several years ago, I left school and have been really on my own, with no professors or mentors looking after my welfare. The years before I met Him were a challenge for me as I struggled to have that warm connection with a family and community that you do not get as an independent adult floating free in the world. There was no one looking out for me but me, and that was a very scary feeling.

Yes, I got to work on time every day and paid my bills like an adult, but those were just the superficial parts of taking care of myself. There was an emotional component of being on my own that I found very difficult to handle. I wondered, will I float through my entire life like this by myself? The world is so big and I am so small. There is no one who cares for me.

It's funny, because I lived with a man several years ago. I never felt more alone than the two years that we lived together. Yet I never feel alone now. He is always with me because I carry Him in my heart everywhere I go. I see Him less than the man I used to live with, but I feel less alone. That is the difference between this relationship and my previous vanilla ones. I am the center of His world, and He is the center of mine. We are never alone, spiraling around the universe, untethered. We bring each other back down to earth. We make each other safe.

So the control is an unbelievably positive thing in my life, one that is about connection and emotional security. It tells me that he loves me and that I am special and that He will always be here for me. He has taken on the responsibility to care for me and I will never be alone again. We take care of each other and we shelter each other from the world. We are safe and we are forever.

It is love. I just know that it is.

Love is...

2009-02-12T10:30:00.000-05:00

Valentine's Day is quickly approaching. I don't pay this particular holiday much attention since every day is a celebration of the love between my Owner and I, but I have been reflecting on the nature of love lately.

I recently read one person's definitive statement of what love is. It was a narrow definition and didn't describe my experience at all. And it excluded all of the other types of love that I feel in my life - the love that I have for my family, friends, old lovers, and all those who I may love in some capacity in the future as my relationship grows.

But the love for my Owner...that is the most difficult to describe because there is so much there. Just off the top of my head, I would describe our love the following ways:

Our love is accepting each other as we are.

Our love is giving ourselves completely in order to please each other.

Our love is great sacrifice, knowing that everything we give will be returned a hundred-fold.

Our love is opening our minds and hearts to experiences that will let us grow together.

Our love is not giving up, no matter how flawed we may be.

Our love is devotion and security, even if it looks like control.

Our love is pain, taking and receiving, recognizing our need to have pain in our lives, and the trust that is required to experience that pain.

Our love is seeing each other, even the ugly parts of ourselves, and truly embracing all parts of each other.

Our love is caring for each other every day and making sure that the other's needs are forefront in our minds.

Our love is respect in our words, actions and attitudes toward each other.

Our love is expecting each other to be only exactly as we are and sacrificing any preconceived notions of an ideal partner.

Our love is loving each other more than anything, even as we share parts of ourselves with others.

I invite you to define your love - for anyone and everyone in your life - in the comments. Happy Valentine's Day!

On Fear

2009-02-10T18:45:00.000-05:00

Things are not always as they seem. There is fear, but I am not scared. There are tears, but I am not upset. There is pain, but I am not hurt. So much of what you see here, dear readers, is a small sliver of the experience. Think of this place as a singular moment in which you get to peek through the crack in the door. Your eyes may deceive you.

Take fear: I have described many times my experiences with fear, too many to link to here. One of my earliest memories is running away from a parent who was about to physically discipline me. In that moment, as I ran up the steps of the house and locked the bedroom door behind me, I felt a pure rush of adrenaline. It was something overwhelming, something I had never experienced before. The feeling recurred in my dreams over the years, usually in a scenario when I was being chased. I could feel that enticing and terrifying rush in my sleep and I held onto it like it was a precious treasure of an experience.

When we are together, he recreates that feeling. He pushes me to a point where I feel like I am in jeopardy, either physically or emotionally. He brings me to that point of terror and I let him. I let him. I trust Him to do that because I know that I am safe in his hands. He pulls me in opposite directions - between fear and safety, pain and pleasure - and I feel the extreme emotions at each end. That is the essence of the experience. That is a delicious feeling and one that I would be hard-pressed to describe to anyone who has not been involved in such an experience.

The experience of fear feels very real but is buffeted by the ultimately safe nature of the entire framework. It ends, but I often write from within that experience because it is so world-bending that I cannot keep it inside me. But I do not live in fear of Him. I am never really afraid, after all. I am just experiencing fear in a safe way. I love him and trust him more because we have the ability to experience that together.

Same with crying: By now, he knows me well enough to see that I have trouble letting my anxieties and emotions out in a constructive way. I do not have a place to release those anxieties in my life. I am too busy placating my family members and pleasing my bosses. I cannot unleash an emotional torrent on them and I do not know what to do with these feelings. I suppose I could take up kickboxing, but that's not my cup of tea.

Instead, he helps me exorcise those demons in a constructive way. He may bring me down with verbal humiliation or push me past where I think I can go. He is very skilled and knows just how to lead me. The goal is to allow me to release these emotions, to sob with the grief that I feel and to cry out like I have been longing to all week. He absorbs everything as he holds me. Again, there are the emotional extremes, the humiliation and the comfort all in one place. I am not really upset by the experience, after all. It is safe for me and it is a wonderfully freeing experience. Sort of like primal scream therapy for kinky people ;-)

In both situations, if you happened to peek through the crack in the door at the moment when he is holding me down and I am flailing with a look of terror in my eyes, or when I am crying and racked with sobs, you would naturally think "My god, what is that man doing to that woman?" But your eyes deceive you. I have been deceived in the very same way. I have spent days wondering if I should be afraid of him or why he made me cry so, only to talk it over with him and realize that the emotional whiplash of the experience was the purpose, not the fear or the crying. I get wrapped up in my myopic perspective sometimes and miss the point. While I am working that out and until I come to a place of understanding, I come here to write.

That's my excuse. Yours is that you don't always get to see everything that goes on inside this relationship. That is understandable. I don't give you a running account of my whole life that would provide the context for much of what I do. But it is not my job to provide you with a comfortable experience every time and it is not my job to make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside every time. Many of you do feel comfortable and warm and fuzzy, judging from a great majority of the comments. For everyone else, I don't really owe you an explanation as I do not expect you to constantly explain yourselves to me, although I'd like to provide a little understanding from my end.

And that is the point of blogging after all. To open up my world to you so I feel less alone, and maybe open yours up to an experience that you have only dreamed about. Or to educate you about different perspectives or to educate me about my own limitations. I feel a profound amount of love and peace in my relationship and in my submission, and if you can grab on to even a tiny piece of that, then we will have connected in a meaningful way. All you have to do is open your heart and see that I have been here, pouring mine out all along.

Myself

2009-02-09T18:11:00.004-05:00

I only ever wanted a place to be myself. All of this is so hidden and I didn't want to continue behaving as if I felt ashamed about it. I wanted to air out some of this, give it room to breathe and let the light of day burn away all of irrelevancies. In more than a year of posting, I have shared many things, even things that I knew would not be welcome for some.

It took so much for me to get here, 29 years of reflection and self-discovery. I never knew that I would end up here, but I am happier for it. I am happy every day, even when a post does not reflect that. Maybe I wrote because I was working through something that had actually happened, or maybe I was spinning out ideas that were only based on fantasy. Maybe I had already resolved to make a change by the time you read my words, maybe I did change, or maybe He backtracked and things leveled off before I could even process it. I come to this from all angles. I only wanted to allow myself to think.

I write for myself and for you. I give you maybe 1/16 of myself, if that. I keep so much of myself back, but I do want you to understand. There are many of you that never will. And to you, I would simply ask you to move on. There is the whole wide internet out there. Find your people and be with them, and leave me with my thoughts.

Forever and Ever

2009-02-08T23:45:00.003-05:00

"I'm never happier than when I'm next to you," He whispered.

"Me either," I sighed as I held Him closer. "I hope it's like this forever."

"I want that more than anything."

Faults

2009-02-05T16:00:00.002-05:00

I am impatient. I have been my whole life. I don't want to seem like I'm skirting responsibility, but I learned from the best. My mother is the most impatient person that I know. I can't tell you how often she snaps my father's name, as if he were the cause of all of her problems. The poor man. He is so quiet and can never catch a break, not in 40 years of marriage.

Anyway, back to me...I'm impatient. I used to have a roaring temper, but now I am merely occasionally short-tempered. I tend to get lost in my moods and forget that everyone else isn't ruled by the ill wind. I can be petty and argumentative and childish. I can be frustratingly blunt. I can really put my foot in it. I can be short-sighted and give up too easily. I can be needlessly rebellious. I can be rigid, and at times I can be careless with the rules. I can be over-sensitive and I cry too easily. I am excitable and easily distracted. I am difficult to live with. I am too hard on myself.

I am all of these things. These are my faults and I keep a daily running tally of them. I see them all the time. But Him? He thinks I'm perfect. He thinks everything I do is perfectly adorable, from the way that I excitably greet him on the phone ("HI! Hi Daddy! Hi!"), to the fact that I still drink milk every night with dinner, to the way that I hum while I brush my teeth, to the holes in my socks. Even through all of my failures and my faults, of which there are many and which crush me daily like a lead weight, he loves me completely and thinks the world of me.

There are times when I am sure that he is going to give up on me, or at least start to be a little less than 100% charmed by everything I do, but that never happens. Not even now, after 16 months together, has his ardor faded. How is that possible? I've had longer relationships, but never one where the lovey-dovey phase lasted this long or where we didn't start getting on each others' nerves to some extent. I wonder if we will always be this way.

I hope we will always be this way.

Daring

2009-02-03T10:45:00.002-05:00

I thought I was over my period. Actually, I was, but it came back while I was fucking Him the other night. When He told me to get off of him and suck his cock, I saw a smear of blood on him and recoiled. I wasn't going to take him in my mouth like that. I just wasn't.

He saw what I saw and pushed me down toward his cock anyway. I whimpered and then shook my head slightly. I didn't want to disobey him, I feared bluntly saying "no," but I just couldn't do it. My eyes filled with tears as he persisted.

"Please Daddy, no, don't make me," I moaned, but he was unrelenting.

"Yes Kitten, now, take me in your mouth."

"But...but...," I sputtered, flailing my arms around helplessly. I balled up my fists and crushed them against my eyes, trying to block out what seemed inevitable.

"Just fucking do it," He growled.

I inched down toward his cock, looking anywhere but at him, trying to get out of this, trying to think of a solution. When it looked like I wouldn't be able to escape, I opened my mouth reluctantly and moved toward him.

But at the last possible second before my mouth touched his cock, he pulled me up and tenderly said, "That's enough." He sighed as he held me against him.

I should have felt relieved, but I was irate. How could he do that to me? It was a mindfuck, pure and simple. It was manipulation. It was humiliating. I was so stupid. I pushed against him, unwilling to feel grateful that he had let me go at the last second. Instead I felt a surge of hatred at what he did to me.

As he held me tighter, I struggled. "What do you feel right now?," he whispered, touching himself and watching me closely. "Mad," I grunted. "How could you do that?" I lost all sense of obedience and let my resentment course through my body.

"More, tell me more," he urged. I let the words spill from my mouth. "You can just do that, you can mess with me. You knew that I would do it if you asked. You fucked with me." I started beating my fists against his chest and I could see that he was growing more excited.

"Tell me, I know how you feel about me right now," he growled.

"I hate you, that's how I feel, I hate you," I shouted as I hit him in a frenzy. I was a blur of aggression, but he kept me held tightly to him throughout. I was angry but I was safe, venting everything that I held pent up inside me.

And then he came all over me in a rush of sighs and moans. He brushed my hair back from my face as I laid next to him in stunned silence. What had just happened?

"I control all of you, Kitten," he said, looking down at me. "I can bring everything out of you, everything that you've been hiding. I know that you hate that I can make you do anything, but sometimes you need to be reminded."

I smiled at him ruefully, giving him one last bump on his chest with my fist before cuddling deep in his arms.

Humiliation Nation

2009-01-28T17:30:00.002-05:00

The other night, He knelt behind me to watch his come drip out of me. He had just finished taking me roughly from behind and I was shaky on my hands and knees. Once He saw what he wanted - the physical evidence of his ownership - he let me collapse on the bed. After a few minutes, after I caught my breath, I asked to get up to go to the bathroom to clean up.

"Is there more?," He asked.

"Um...," I stalled, knowing that he can't get enough of the sight of his come dripping out of me.

"Get up on your knees," He said in a tone of voice that brooked no argument.

My legs shook as I knelt next to him on the bed. I steadied myself against the wall with one hand. He knocked my knees apart and held his cupped hand under my cunt.

"Push," He said with an evil glint in his eyes. I covered my eyes with my free hand, but I obeyed. After a moment, I looked down to see his hand covered in my wetness and his. He held his hand up to my face and I looked at him warily.

"Lick, now," He whispered. I bent my head down, eyes tightly squeezed shut, and lapped at his palm. I could taste both of us on his hand. He made me clean up every drop.

I never did make it to the bathroom and I didn't get to rest my shaking body. I think my humiliation turned him on so much that he had to have me again, right away. As I sucked his cock, I could still feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Collaring, Part II

2009-01-27T15:23:00.003-05:00

I think about the collar all the time. I used to fantasize about all manner of things as I tried to fall asleep, romance and ravishment, the first blush of new love. But I've put all that aside now. That seems so naive and childish, to think of unrealistic fantasies when I have the chance for a lifetime of love and happiness right in front of me.

So instead of dancing off to sleep with dreams in my head, I think of the collar. I can feel myself kneeling naked in front of Him, as naked as I have ever been in my life - exposed but warm in his gaze. He brings out the collar. I can't imagine exactly what it looks like, but its presence fills me with a tremendous sense of joy. There are tears, wonderfully happy tears.

He places it around my neck like a blessing. I have finally deserved it, our connection is finally complete. Everything is washed away. It is a baptism.

He tells me now that the time is close that I hold this tight against my heart. He tells me that I am walking straight along the path like a good girl. He knows that I have been trying so hard to be exactly what I need to be.

He tells me what the collar means, that I will be his Kitten forever. Later there will be a ring, but the collar comes first and, in a way, is more important. It will bind us on another level and in a way that only we will understand. It will be the most special bond we share.

And it all starts the first time he grabs me by that collar. After that, everything will be different. I drift off to sleep, dreaming of those moments just out of my grasp.

Love

2009-01-19T15:30:00.001-05:00

I haven't been posting here. I apologize. I've been trying to live outside my head for a while, but you know how difficult that can be. I had to come back here to be with you and to talk over those things that only you and I understand. It is so isolating sometimes. I tried to share a part of myself with a close friend recently and it went very badly, so I have retreated. I know that no one understands except you reading here and blogging out there about this life.

This is mostly my fault because I cannot explain this to myself, let alone someone else. Like, how do you put this kind of love into words when you don't even understand what this kind of love is to begin with? Sometimes I think that it isn't love at all, that it is just control and anger and hatred dressed up as something else. It isn't care and protection. Sometimes it is just power for power's sake. How can hurting me so badly, emotionally, serve any end other than to show me how much He hates me? Why else would he do this to me?

I am going on a trip in a few months and it has already been decided that my suitcase will be inspected and He has already made it known that I am not trusted by myself on this trip. That may not seem like a big deal to any of you, but it seems like an intrusion and a declaration that I am not a competent adult who cannot be on her own without suspicion. It's not a test. It just is. I can choose to leave if I don't want to put up with it, but who throws away their whole life based on one thing like that? But that's where they get you...it is one thing today and tomorrow it is another thing and before you know it, your whole life is under siege. Then you look back and wonder where you made the decision to stay and you see that did it every day in a million little ways and that you didn't understand where it was going. And I don't see how that can be love. It seems like something else.

Of all of the things that got me into this, the emotional control is the part I understood the least. I didn't expect it and I didn't see how it tied into the sexual control or ownership or any of that. I am still at a loss to understand it even now, even after it has become the predominant force is my life. I know that I crave it on some level. I can feel it deep in my stomach, that sort of swooping sensation when he puts his hand on my neck and tells me that he owns me. I know that's the desire for control, or maybe the fear of it that gets crossed with desire. There are a lot of crossed wires in my head.

I know that he craves it too. He craves the brutality just like I do, although I think he fears it a great deal less. The other night I was airing some grievance with him and I was speaking a little more forcefully than was appropriate. I could see the burning in his eyes and I quickly stopped. Later he told me that he wanted to hit me so hard in that moment and I immediately felt an electric charge shoot between us. We both wanted it, but if he had actually hit me in that moment? It would have destroyed me and I would have felt an unbelievable sense of betrayal. I know, because it has happened before. There is confusion about destruction for the purpose of rebuilding me and destruction for its own sake. What happens when they look the same from my position on the floor?

He scares me so much sometimes that I wonder about his motivations. He scares me the most those times when he lets up on me suddenly, when he stops the pain and the cruelty, and he draws me into him. I am still scared and defiant and fighting, I want to push him away, but I am out of strength. I collapse on him and start to cry and he comforts me and I wonder, what kind of love is this?

Nothing, Part a Million

2009-01-07T09:30:00.001-05:00

"When you said that I was nothing without you? Did you mean that?," I asked quietly before we went to bed. Of all of the terrible thing He said to me, somehow that was sticking with me the most.

"Kitten, you know that not everything I say to you during a scene is 100% accurate. Sometimes I say things to humiliate you, or to break you down, or to show you your place. But I don't always mean everything," he explained.

"So...did you mean that? Do you really think that I'm nothing without you?"

"I think that you'd be incomplete without me. I think that you'd be a cold, lost little Kitten without me. But I don't think you'd be nothing. You were something when I met you," he said, and he smiled.

Collaring

2009-01-05T11:44:00.001-05:00

The collar never really meant much to me. It would just be an accessory. I thought of it as a fun addition and a welcome symbol of our relationship, but it wouldn't be the be-all-end-all. I was going to get one for Christmas and I was excited. I didn't understand how important it is and how much giving it to me means to Him.

But that was before. Now I'm not getting one.

He's right - I don't deserve a collar now. I haven't behaved in a way that respects his ownership. He deserves better, today and for the rest of his life. He deserves a Kitten who understands what his ownership means and doesn't lie, not even about the little things. I don't deserve the collar, not the way I am.

Now that I'm not getting it, I suddenly understand what the collar means. I understand the symbol of trust, because I have been untrustworthy; and honesty, because I have been dishonest; and respect, because I have been disrespectful. I am struck by a deep sense of loss and grief, that I have squandered all of my work over the past year, that He is disappointed in me. It is the disappointment that hurts the most.

I have to start to earn it back. It is hard when I am so grief-stricken over the collar's abortive loss. But maybe this will help me appreciate it if I do ever get it, and do everything in my power to keep it.

Deep

2009-01-01T09:00:00.001-05:00

He was above me, deep inside me. My legs were wrapped around his waist. He was looking down at me, holding my head still with both hands. His fingers were wound in my hair. For a time, He didn't say anything. He just moved slowly inside me and looked deep into me.

He leaned down closer until he was inches from my face. "It's time, Kitten," he said softly, pausing to brush the hair out of my eyes. "It's time to give yourself over to me completely. No holding back anything now, you have to give me everything."

I felt the tears prick at my eyes. I tried to shake them away, but he held me still.

"Let the tears come. It's time to give me everything you have. Let go, Kitten," he whispered. We were still moving together, but the sex was almost secondary at that point. We were moving together on a whole other level. It was almost spiritual, two beings fused together, orbiting around each other, dancing in harmony out in space.

"Everything," as he locked his hands around my neck. I floated up with Him, up, up. I took one deep breath and felt him press down on me but I was light as air. I held on to Him as he pulled me away, His lips on my face, drying my tears, tasting me, wringing them out of me.

I don't remember what happened next. We came down together, we must have because here we are, walking the earth with everyone else. I don't remember everything he said or much of what I did, but I remember words of great meaning and promises of forever. I asked Him later if He meant what he said, not sure what I was asking for. Maybe reassurance that he had felt the same soul-shifting connection that I had. He nodded with what I thought for a moment were tears in his eyes.

"Everything, Kitten. I meant everything."

Office Call

2008-12-31T09:00:00.002-05:00

I was at my desk in the early evening, shuffling through some papers. I had the phone propped against my ear. I was trying to look busy but I was distracted.

He was growling into my ear, telling me all of the things he wants to do to me. I was quiet except for occasional murmurs. I couldn't melt into my chair like I wanted to do, nor could I address him as "Sir" like I know he expected.

But he knew that he was getting to me. I was quiet, but he knew. He kept talking until I was lulled into a trance. His words were so cruel and sadistic, but I felt calm, like he had laid a heavy blanket over me.

"You love this, don't you?," he cooed.

"Yes," I whispered, afraid to say any more.

"I can tell. I can hear it in your breathing. I can hear your submission. I can hear the change in your voice."

I sighed and let his words wash over me. Outside my office door, the busy day continued but I remained still at my desk. I breathed in and out, shallow expectant breaths.

"Listen to what I can do to you," he whispered. "I love what I can do to you."

Ownership/Relationship

2008-12-29T11:38:00.000-05:00

He is not my boyfriend. He is my owner. I must keep telling myself that. I forget that I cannot act the same way with Him as I acted with my other boyfriends. Whatever his failings as an owner and a partner, I cannot respond the same way.

I cannot respond to the disappointments - which, for the record, are the result of my own unrealistic expectations of a person that He cannot be - like I usually would. I cannot stockpile my resentments and take them out on him through other means. I cannot use my hurt feelings as an excuse for my misbehavior. And I have misbehaved. I am paying the price for that and it is not pretty. It should not have happened like this.

He gives me the space to be upset at him. He does not want to brush things under the rug. I must feel out that space, live in it with my anger and grow out of it. I must be honest about my feelings within the framework that He has set up. I cannot go outside the lines with my feelings because I have no power there. That way lies danger and betrayal and more hurt, the kind of hurt that cannot ever be exorcised.

Holiday Illusions

2008-12-22T16:04:00.003-05:00

I never used to think that people could get talked into things. I never believed in brainwashing or coercion, not if you were an adult and were of adequate I.Q. How do cult leaders get people to follow them, abandon their whole livelihoods, without threatening, without force? With the power of words and the power of the mind.

I never thought that I was weak or that I could be talked into anything. I was stubborn and knew my own mind. But now, I bend. I am pliant, I twist whichever way the wind is blowing. When I am mad at Him and have had enough, when he has disappointed me so greatly that I do not think that I can go on with him, I lose all of my strength before I can even begin to fight. I try to take a stand, I even try to take a day to think things out, and He will not let me. There are veiled threats, but in the end they are just words. He would not hurt me, right?

He tells me that I cannot be alone. He tells me that I must be under his care, that he cannot abandon his Kitten in the cold. He tells me that he knows what is best for me and that I cannot decide for myself. I protest, I whine that I can do whatever I want, I stomp my foot. I could change my locks and spend Christmas alone, tell everyone that we are through and that I am done with Him. But in the end I fall defeated. I am just a petulant child who cannot take care of herself and cannot be without Him. He is right.

Sometimes giving up is easier than fighting. His words and his tone, the gentle lull of his voice...they deflate me and I cannot stand up for what I thought I wanted. Sometimes it is easier to give in than to be overpowered. Maybe there is strength there too? Maybe if I look hard enough, I can find it. Knowing that this is all I am, that I cannot be alone, is a form of submission. It is a final acceptance. It is the ultimate surrender.

So while last week I thought that I would be a strong woman and walk away from Him for doing something that so upset me, I did not. I admitted that I am just a little girl playing a woman at work and that I cannot be free. I resumed my Christmas shopping for Him, I fell soft into the bliss of making cookies and sending out holiday cards. I pretended like nothing had happened because there was nothing I could do about it. I could not be alone, stand by myself, endure all of those dark nights with all of that pain. He convinced me.

Paddles

2008-12-18T15:30:00.001-05:00

I know that many of you understand what a joyful experience a paddling can be. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it, but I know you understand. I recently heard someone say that any man who gets turned on by making a woman cry is sick and I nodded for a second, but then I changed my mind. He is not sick but I cannot explain why. The fact that sadism is not bad, that love blossoms here when it looks like hate...I know that you understand that.

Anyway: the paddling. It's been a quiet few months with us. We continue to work on our relationship and spend time together. We continue to spend significant time in bed, but the kink has been limited to some light choking during sex and the more psychological aspects of things. Last weekend, we were getting ready for bed when I think our hard physical kink came back full-force.

He picked the paddle up off of the shelf and told me to come over to Him. I quailed. It had been so long. I wasn't confident enough in my ability to take pain, so I crouched on the bed rather than remain on all fours and hold my head up high. I curled around a pillow and tucked my head under.

He started and I didn't cry, not until almost the very end. I was quiet, I was focused on breathing. He went easy on me, to be sure, but I was handling it quite well. I murmured, "Daddy" over and over again when things got intense, but it wasn't out of fear or an immediate need for him to stop. It became more like a mantra, like I was naming him and calling out for his strength. At one point, I reached my hand back so he could hold it as he hit me. He curled his body around me briefly, stroking my hand and running the fuzzy side of the paddle over my pink ass cheeks. Then he stood again, still holding my hand, and resumed the paddling.

Each blow was getting harder. I could tell it was almost the end when he paused. He crouched next to me and looked at my face. There were some tears there, but I hadn't fallen apart. "Maybe just six more," I thought, hoping that he would have mercy on me.

"Kitten, how many more? Pick a number between 1 and 10."

"Six," I said immediately.

He gasped and lifted my face by my chin. "You're amazing. How did you know that I was thinking six?"

I smiled. "The number was in my head before you asked me to pick." I was full of such joy at that moment, I was practically giddy. I wanted those last six paddles so badly that I could hardly wait for them. This was the most perfect moment. We were both smiling, there was so much synchronicity. The whole universe was spinning just for us, around us, at that moment.

I know you understand that moment, that feeling. It is the most wonderful thing in the world, it is the reason that we all got into S&M to begin with. It is the epitome of all the good that submission brings. It is the peak. No orgasm, no amount of pain, no money or love or anything could top that feeling.

And the part of this feeling? It can happen over and over again. The possibilities are limitless.

Voluntary Reality

2008-12-10T10:00:00.001-05:00

I have a rich fantasy life.

No, that's not exactly true. It's vivid, but it's not particularly varied. I've relied on the same masturbatory scenarios for years.

They are all similar, even in their difference. They all are semi-public. I am being used, sometimes harshly. I am exposed and humiliated. There is usually more than one person there. He is leading, but the others are faceless. Often there are hands touching and sensations without reason.

But almost always...more than one person there, either participating or watching.

I haven't sought this out. I don't go around trying to recreate these scenarios. They are in my head and they are safe, tucked away where I can control them.

He knows about these fantasies and he thinks that it is his job to fulfill them. Plus they suit his needs. He wants to see me shared and passed around. He needs to see that, for whatever reason. He wants to know that I made someone else moan like I make Him moan, and he gets pleasure out of just that idea. He is making this happen, even though I did not ask for it.

But I cannot now deny that I wanted this. I have thought about it for years. How can I say now that I don't want this? He has been there as I confessed these fantasies, he saw the physical evidence of my arousal. He knows.

Will I be able to perform the way that he wants? Will I be able to hold it together? It will just be sex, it won't be intimacy like with Him. How do I go back to just sex after more than a year of the closest, most intense physical connection I have ever had with one person? I know that I have been trained, I know how to shut off that part of me and focus on being what he wants. But putting theory into practice is something else entirely.

Bending

2008-12-08T16:30:00.001-05:00

I'm trying to find a model for where we're going, where we've been heading over the past couple of months, but I'm coming up short. That's okay, I don't mind making my own path. It just seems to me that we're venturing away from traditional submission into something else.

When we started, I was focused on finding this path through the quiet, through meekness and through humility. He wore me down a lot, roughly molding me into shape and into submission. His focus was quieting the screaming voices in my head and replacing them with His voice. I hear him now all the time, even when He isn't speaking. We reached this place of solitude together and it is pure and dreamy and quiet.

Once we were there, He told me that he loved how trainable I am. He loved seeing the fire in my eyes and the struggle, and then gradually the acceptance. He loved that I thought that no one could tame me, but he always could. He loved the clearness in my eyes.

So after he could focus me, he started training me for something else. He started making me a whore - that's the only way I can describe it. Remember those moments where I came out strong, eyes flashing for him, when I took a bit of control and let myself run wild? That's often what he wants to see now.

He talks about putting the regular me away and letting that wild girl come out. Sometimes I struggle against it, but he usually manages to make her emerge anyway. The scary part is that I do things in that state and I couldn't even imagine otherwise. He tells me that sometimes my eyes are glazed over like I am somewhere else, like I am someone else. I guess that I am.

I fuck him like he wants to be fucked, performing for him and doing whatever he wants. It is still a form of submission, in a way. But it is much less violent and much more coercive. He talks to me throughout, and I have to act the way that he wants or else.

Recently, He's talked a lot about sharing me. He talks about showing another man what I can do and how good I am. He pretends that he is the other man and makes me show him all of the things that I would do. He wants to watch me with the other man and if I'm good, he'll let me alone with the other man so I can do whatever I want. But I have to be a good girl and please the other man and tell Daddy all about it when I get home. It is so convoluted that sometimes I wonder who we really are, who I really am.

I know that He's getting ready to whore me out to someone else. There are e-mails and conversations that I am not a part of. I know that this is love, but I have a hard time finding it. I don't understand why this is the form that we are taking. I want so much to please Him and I will go wherever he sends me. There is a part of me that would love this, the wrongness of it, but I know that I would never pursue this on my own. This is an instance where, without training, I would keep this in the realm of fantasy. I suppose that is why He is working so hard to mold me into this girl. I just wonder who I'll be when he's done.

Feminist Theory

2008-12-02T10:00:00.001-05:00

I struggle with the question of abuse. I wonder too. I no longer think anything is wrong with me - time and a lot of reflection have settled that in my mind - but I do wonder if I've lost sight of the line sometimes. I want terrible things, unbearable amounts of control. I want not to be able to get away, to be held in place, to be told that I'm nothing without this. It is the absolution so many of us seek, not the perfection, but the washing away of ourselves.

I don't make things any easier on myself. I think that I can hold two contradictory ideas in my head at once - I can be a feminist and I can be a submissive. But my feminist sisters don't want me. They would excommunicate me (and pillory Him) if they knew. I am either a bad feminist, or a hypocrite, or a fool, or all three.

I know the theory. I understand it from years of study. I see everything they hate in the structure of BDSM. I know why it is wrong on a macro level and yet...and yet...

If they could just understand how things are between us, all the generalizations would melt away. If they knew how much love and respect live here, they could never condemn our entire belief system. If they understood what this feels like, this submission that makes me stronger, this reliance that makes me calmer, they would stop writing their screeds about my relationship. If only they thought for ONE SECOND about what it feels like to have your whole world examined and judged to be destructive to all women, maybe they would stop what they're doing that's hurting this woman.

I still am who I am. I was born this way. I cannot go back. They claim that they do not want to judge or condemn my choices, but what choice do I have in the face of this? I am who I am. I cannot unmake myself or take this back. I am here and I am not going away. So what am I supposed to do? You tell me! What is it you want? An apology or a renunciation? His capitulation? Because I am not going away. There is no other way for me to be. I will not justify this to you, not anymore. I am not ashamed, no matter how much you try to disavow me. I am here and I am not going away.

Him

2008-12-01T10:00:00.000-05:00

On Thanksgiving day, we stood in a gathering of boisterous relatives. We were a quiet island in the bustling kitchen as we leaned our heads together. I told him that I love him, but he ducked his head away.

"No," he whispered, "I'm a bad boyfriend."

"What? No, you're a wonderful boyfriend."

"No," he said with a bashful look on his face. "I abuse you." He was only half-serious, but there was a bit of truthful hurt behind his joking.

"You don't abuse me. You do nothing of the sort," I said as I touched his face. He gave me the most wounded smile.

"I hate your blog sometimes," he sighed.

I know how he feels about this blog. He does not read it, preferring to leave this space for my semi-private thoughts. But I do keep him updated about certain things that concern the blog, including some of the more negative comments and e-mails that I have received. The accusations of abuse weigh heavily upon him since he knows how much I enjoy our dynamic. He sees the fire in my eyes and the desire for the way he touches me and hurts me.

This blog his chronicled my journey, but it has been largely silent about his journey. He never owned anyone before me and this has been an experience of tremendous growth for him. He has taken on so much responsibility for my progress and development as a person, and not just as a submissive, that I think he has matured in a way as well.

He can be an impetuous person, often ruled by emotions. He can live inside his head at times and that can keep him disconnected from himself. But when he is with me, he is grounded. He comes back to earth, all that fire and emotion channeled into me. I see the best of him in me.

I don't idolize him or think of him as a god. He is not perfect and thank God for that. But I do love him more than I've ever loved anyone because of what I have seen in him over the past year. I have seen all of his dedication and determination in this relationship, as well as the soft under belly of his strength. I love him all the more for that.

I hate to see him hurt by this. He doesn't deserve that from me.

Later that Thanksgiving night, I laid next to him and cradled his head to my chest. I ran my fingertips over his face. I wanted to ease his mind about everything. I said the only thing I could: "I love you more than anything."

Writing About Writing

2008-11-26T10:00:00.000-05:00

I hate this blog sometimes. It can be a lot of pressure. As I come up on a year of posting in this space, I find myself sick of much of what I've written. Some of it seems naive or too serious or too small for this journey that I've been on. It seems like nothing has been accomplished, nothing accomplished at all. I find new submissive blogs every week - well-written blogs authored by talented women - and I can barely bring myself to read them. It's disheartening for me because I used to think of submissive blogs as my lifeline and now...I can't do it. It all seems so repetitive. Are any of us unique in any way? Or are we all isolated in the same experience?

The one goal I have had over the past year is to present my submission unvarnished. There is an ugly side to submission, one borne out of great ambivalence and grief, that exists alongside all of the joyous self-discovery. I've tried not to shy away from that. Even when things were perfect, I never wanted to paint submission as a completely selfless or blissfully transcendent experience. Indeed, that honesty has probably turned off as many readers as it has attracted. It has garnered me many concerned e-mails and comments. Many of you think that I am being abused.

I am sick of fighting that fight. I am sick of justifying and explaining. Maybe I am being abused. Maybe I am complicit in my own abuse, or brainwashed, or deluded. Maybe I am so fucked up that I endure in this relationship that sends up red flags for many of you. Maybe you disagree, and see yourselves in me.

I don't know where to go from here. I've stopped struggling lately. I've let go of a lot of the hang-ups that kept me hung up in the early months and have let Him take me wherever he wants. I don't know if we're going anywhere in particular. Lately we've been swimming in circles. Things don't seem overwhelming and it feels a bit like a relief. We're enjoying this plateau we've reached and I'm not worried about the future or the past. Sometimes I forget the D/s dynamic entirely - it fades into the background even though it's always there - and sometimes it seems almost vanilla in its lack of edge. I like it that way. Maybe we don't need to go anywhere right now. Maybe we just need to live.

My past writing is an unwelcome reminder of all that needless struggle. At this point, I wonder what it was all about. I read all these submissives who are just starting on their journeys and I can't help but feel sad for all of the tears and pain that they will go through before the normalcy sets in. It may seem new and groundbreaking now, but soon they'll all be here, looking back and feeling like it was all for naught. They're exactly where they started.

Shower

2008-11-20T09:00:00.000-05:00

He came out of the shower and into the bedroom with a towel around his waist. I was busy getting ready, so I didn't see the dark look in his eyes until it was too late.

It was my fault, really, I thought as he pushed me down onto the bed. I was standing there in only my panties. What did I expect?

There was no foreplay. He was angry and focused on fucking me how he wanted. This wasn't for me. He worked above me, barely looking at me, looking into the distance as I struggled to take him in. I put my hands over my face when it got to be too much. There was no asking him to stop, not without making it worse. If he saw me cry, it would only make him more excited.

In time, it was over. I hadn't come and he didn't ask if I had. My orgasm wasn't the goal. He was exorcising his own demons that day and I was just the receptacle.

He was businesslike as we got dressed after. I tried to clean his come off of me discretely, so he wouldn't notice that I was a mess. He wasn't concerned about it anyway.

The Last Part

2008-11-18T10:13:00.000-05:00

"That last part?," I said quietly as we laid staring at the ceiling, sated. I spoke into the darkness with a hesitancy, uncertain how my thoughts would be received.

"That last part felt like...it felt like you should pay me afterward." I let the words hang there. I couldn't hear Him breathing.

After a moment, I heard the sheets rustle as he turned toward me. He put his lips close to my ear. "You liked that, didn't you, you dirty girl," he murmured slowly.

I wonder if He could see me blush in the dark.

Joy

2008-11-10T11:40:00.000-05:00

He started in on me before I was even fully awake. He was hard and alert, even as I was groggy and cuddly, and he started putting me through my paces. I dragged through the first part of our early-morning activities. Maybe I didn't suck his cock as enthusiastically as he would have liked? Or maybe I was too busy wiping the sleep from my eyes to come on command?

He flung me over the side of the bed and fucked me hard from behind, taunting my reflection in the mirror. I buried my head in the sheets and tried to find my focus. I didn't want him to make me cry, not when I was already feeling so out of sorts. But the tears came quickly when he told me that all of my neighbors would know what a slut I am from the moaning that was coming from the apartment. I was ashamed and I didn't know what to do.

After a time, I slid to the floor to kneel at his feet. I looked up at him, looking for something, looking for a connection. He smoothed back my hair and smiled down at me. "You're such a good girl for me this morning, such a good little girl," he cooed.

I nuzzled his knee and smiled. He was proud of me. I felt instantly joyous and purposeful and centered. I was doing a good job. I was pleasing him.

When I sucked his cock again, I was more than enthusiastic and was rewarded for all of my hard work.

Sudden

2008-11-06T15:00:00.001-05:00

Things escalated quite quickly. We were slightly tipsy, and a routine blow job was rapidly turning into something much more aggressive. He choked me roughly and knocked me off of my knees onto my ass. He came after me, even as I tried to scuttle away. He knelt over my prone body and fucked my face harder. I wondered if He had lost track of how much I could take.

Before I could protest though, He picked me up and deposited me on my hands and knees on the bed. He reached around my waist to unbutton my jeans and pulled them down to mid-thigh. I expected him to take them all the way off of me, but instead he thrust into me from behind in one quick movement. I cried out in surprise, but the sound was muffled by the comforter. He was pressing on my upper back so that my face was smushed into the bed. He fucked me harder and harder, spurred on by my quiet screams into the mattress.

It was amazing, and so sudden. It was unexpected. There was nothing I could do but let myself be taken. As he pushed my head down and thrust into me more furiously, I was calm.

Realignment

2008-10-27T16:00:00.000-04:00

It's strange that so many "shoulds" have crept into my life. I've always tried to be the kind of person who avoids those prescriptions, who doesn't do things just because they should be done. I think that's the lesson of my early 20s, when I was in a relationship that epitomized societal expectations. When that relationship ended, I had the rare opportunity to rethink every decision that I had made. I realized that I was heading down a path toward a conventional life, marriage, children, all because I thought that was what I should do. I chose to take a different path and found a richer life as a result. I found my own way and I found myself.

Now He and I find ourselves back in that place. We became beholden to what we thought we "should" be doing, rather than what was right for us. A recent example:

We both were talking about opposite-sex friends at work and I think we were both a bit jealous of the other. Not that either of us thought the other would be unfaithful, just that we were mildly jealous of office flirtations. Anyway, I asked a few questions about his work friend, but He shut that conversation down very quickly and told me to stop being a brat. But when he asked me about my friendship with my work friend, I had to answer every question. I even had to hand over my PDA so he could read our (innocent) e-mails and I had to do it without complaint.

As we went to bed that night, I told Him that I was unhappy at what I perceived to be a double standard. I told Him that I didn't think it was fair that I had to answer all of his questions and submit to his suspicions, while I was barred from questioning him at all. He told me that no, it wasn't fair but that is the way it is. I am owned and things are different for me. He turned over and went to sleep. I was annoyed and I spent half the night turned away from him in a funk.

We talked about it a couple of weeks later and it turns out that he didn't want things to be so unfair. He didn't like that we are held to a different standard over something that concerns both of us in this relationship. His instinct was to apologize and agree to treat each other equally, but instead he laid down the hard line because he thought it would be more dominant. He thought that it would be what was expected of him as an owner, even though it didn't seem right to him and even though it only caused resentment on my part.

We've said that we're 24/7, but that doesn't mean that we can't have limits for ourselves. There are things that neither of us is comfortable with, so why should we do those things? If certain restrictions or rules work for other couples, that's great, but we're not all the same. We need to figure out what works for us and where the line is.

We've started thinking of our relationship as made up of concentric circles. The innermost circle is what we started with: bedroom kink, pure and simple. That is the essential for me and what drew me into BDSM to begin with. The next circle includes non-bedroom kink that we both enjoy and find beneficial, such as my bedtime and the spontaneous way that he exerts his control on me in public when I least expect it. The outermost circle holds the things that we've been doing but aren't necessarily essential for us or aren't exactly working. The key will be to figure out what is working and what isn't, and to decide for ourselves what we should do.

For a few days, the prospect of such an adjustment had me in a right state. I was nervous that too much would change or that He would want to give up kink altogether. But things seem to have settled down and we're talking about what we should do going forward. A bit of change isn't all bad, right?

Anniversary

2008-10-20T14:43:00.002-04:00

This weekend, we celebrated our anniversary. It was the anniversary of our first date, not the start of our exclusive relationship or even when I started thinking of Him as my Owner. But the meaning was the same. We both knew that we were celebrating the year that we spent together and all that we have experienced. I could go back through the archives here and dredge up all of the milestones that I have reached and surpassed over this year, but I don't want to spend time looking backward. I already feel how far we have come together and I don't want to dwell on thinking about a time that I can no longer imagine.

Our weekend was quiet and wonderful. We spent 90% of it alone together, just talking and cuddling and exploring each others' bodies. It's amazing that there are new ways for Him to touch me, even after all of this time. The look in his eyes as he moves toward me still takes my breath away. I laid in his arms and felt the world fall away from me. I slept next to him, curled up against his back. It was all so ordinary and extraordinary at the same time.

The kinky details don't really matter at a time like this. This weekend was notable, not for the lack of kink, but how seamlessly that kink is part of who we are on a day-to-day basis. It wasn't surprising when he folded his hand over my mouth to stifle my screams or scratched his nails down my back. It was normal. After each time we had sex, we still curled up together and touched noses, cooing "I love you" in the dusky darkness of his bedroom.

I'm looking forward to this next year and all that we have to experience together. And I am looking forward to sharing it all with you!

Embrace

2008-10-14T10:00:00.001-04:00

After I collapsed onto the bed, He pulled me tightly against him. My cheek was pressed into his chest and I wrapped myself around the length of him, intertwining my legs with his.

My breath eventually returned to normal and I came back to earth in his arms. He kissed the top of my head and whispered in my ear. I don't remember what he said, except that his words made me feel safe and protected.

We were quiet as we started kissing again, tentatively at first. Our kisses grew more urgent and we were both moaning softly. He pulled my right leg over his hip and slid into my still-wet pussy with a quiet sigh.

We rocked together, not speaking but looking right into each others' eyes. Somehow, he managed to tuck my left leg underneath him while we remained on our sides. He stayed inside me the entire time, moving in and out of me in a dreamy rhythm. He stroked my hair and held me close, kissing me more insistently as my moans grew louder. I could feel myself ready to come, I could feel him deep inside me, I could feel the love in his eyes and his hands. There were just so many emotions. I was overwhelmed with him all around me.

He tucked his head close against my neck and bit into my shoulder gently. I held onto his back and wondered if there was any way that we would fuse together. We were so close. We could just stop being two people. We were so connected.

We came together, like two beings breathing in and out of each others' lungs. We stayed together for a long time after that, not wanting to separate. Not wanting the break the circuit of electricity. Never wanting to be apart.

Fire

2008-10-13T10:45:00.000-04:00

It's amazing what getting back to basics can do for my submission. Simply asking for a spanking (quietly whispering, "Daddy, would you spank me, please?") and being put over His knee were enough to bring me right back into line. As I lay sprawled naked over his lap and braced myself for my spanking, I took a deep breath and felt a wave of confidence. I could feel my breath deep down in my body and I felt so calm. There are enormous reserves of strength there, I realized, and I could take anything He had for me.

He spanked me very hard. There wasn't much mercy there and I was thankful for that. At one point, after I started to cry from the pain of his stinging backhanded slaps, I was quietly begging him. Not to stop exactly, but maybe for a moment to gather myself together. Instead he told me to shut the fuck up and punctuated each spank with a command to "take it, take it."

When he was finished, he picked my head up off of the mattress by my hair and looked into my eyes. "There's that fire," he sighed happily. "It's been flickering lately, but now it's back. My Kitten is back."

I clung to him, tears of joy welling in my eyes, as he held me gently for a few moments. His cock was hard against my leg and I could feel the wetness in my pussy from the spanking. He looked deep into my eyes again.

"More," I said breathlessly, overtaken by my desire to have him inside me, all around me. He moaned and leaned my head back to kiss me deeply. As he put my legs on his shoulders and entered me slowly, I closed my eyes and let the sensations wash over me. I was back.

Plans

2008-10-11T10:00:00.000-04:00

He talked to me slowly, quietly at first. His voice was low, but I could hear the edge in his voice, the desire. He talked about what I need and what he'll give me, even if that isn't always the same thing. He talked about beating me and I murmured that I need that so badly.

His words became harsh and degrading, pulling me deeper into that submissive headspace. He told me that I am his cunt and a little whore. He made me repeat it so the words would sink in.

He told me about the training - or, actually, the retraining - that he was planning for me. He told me about the belt, and the palm of his hand, and the candle wax. He drew elaborate pictures of me hogtied on the bed and about fucking me until I scream. He told me about the torture of not being able to come and how I would soon face that. He told me how much he would enjoy that and he laughed.

I could feel the heavy calm descending as he spoke and I wecomed it. I wrapped myself in it and felt it all around me. I was reminded. I needed to be reminded.

Corner

2008-10-10T10:00:00.000-04:00

You know, it is simply a matter of turning the corner. Willfully, making myself turn in a new direction. All depression is like this. There is a certain element of matter over mind here. If I can force myself to get up, to put on nice clothes and to head purposefully out into the day, I will feel as I once did. I will feel whole again.

It's not about indulgence. Depression is something I've lived with for a long time; it is something that has slowly tried to kill me without dulling my ability to function. So it's not about having the luxury of staying in bed. There is plenty of time for sadness even if you manage to hold down a full-time job. No, it is about standing up and being strong when you'd rather hide away. Maybe even faking it for a while until being normal feels normal again. Looking at the bright side helps, even when letting go of the negativity feels like a great injustice.

In any case, I am having a good day, a hopeful day. I want to take this day, average as it is, and make copies of it and save those copies for when I need them. I want so desperately to be happy and to make Him happy. I know that it upsets Him when I am sad. I don't want to be a dead weight in our relationship. This is about more than D/s; this is about any relationship. I want to try to be better for us, so we can be stronger together.

He is planning some challenges for me in the weeks ahead. He is going to be gentle if it is needed, but he is also going to test me. I welcome these challenges. I welcome the chance to show Him that I am strong in my submission. I welcome the chance to prove that to myself. I hope that I can rise to the occasion and lose myself in the moment, feel that amazing crackle of electricity between us and do those amazing things that are possible only when we are truly connected. I have faith that that can happen again. What we have...it doesn't go away, ever. It is always there, even if it has been buried under layers of other emotions lately. I am reaching down into myself to find it, to bring it back.

Untitled

2008-10-06T13:00:00.001-04:00

I have to think about why I started this to begin with. I know that it doesn't matter much at this point. It is like skydiving and wondering why you jumped out the open door of the plane, when you really should be concerned with pulling the cord and landing safely on the ground. But I wonder anyway. If I can trace how I got here, maybe I can figure out how to move forward.

I am trying to remember what it was that drew me into exploring my submission and what led Him to find me. It's so funny to think back over a year ago because so much has changed. I don't even recognize the life that I used to live. But I remember that I spent a lot of time then reading blogs of other submissive women. I felt a pull. I felt more than mere curiosity. I felt compelled. Everything that I had wondered about myself - why did I have those violent fantasies? why did I hurt myself and like it? - was leading me to this point. Maybe it was my destiny to find submission. And when something is your destiny, you are hard-pressed to figure out the decisions that lead you to where you end up.

All along this path, I have sought something that I wanted, either consciously or subconsciously, and I have pursued it with the faith that the payoff would be more rewarding than the cost. A lot of what I write about here is about the cost of submission - what it takes from me physically and emotionally. The emotional costs are higher than the physical. My body rebounds but my mind is changed forever. It is a subtle form of brainwashing, the making of a woman into a girl into an animal into an object.

Maybe I'm too inscrutable and people think that I don't willingly want to make these sacrifices because of what I write here. Maybe it seems like I don't want to be controlled? For me, control is a double-edged sword: I need it and I crave it and I love it, but it fills me with a sense of existential dread. I can see what control he exerts over me today and I can draw a line to where we're going in the future. I see what's coming next and it makes me afraid. But I've accepted every measure of control, even if it came after a bit of a struggle on my part, and I'd gladly do it again and again.

I've hit a wall and I need to figure out how to get over it. I need to make my peace with my choices and choose to go forward. It is difficult because my emotions are in a tumult. I'm too quickly angered and my tears come too easily lately. I'm not as grounded and rational as I used to be. I've been in this place before and I've made it out. I know depression very well. I've wrapped myself up with it like a warm blanket, only to have it suffocate me. I know there are two paths, one directly out and the other through a breakdown, but either way I've come out of it before. I can do it again.

He knows what is happening with me. That doesn't mean that he's not pushing me, because he is, but he understands. He is helping me reconnect. He had me carry my paddle around with me everywhere for the past few days so that I would be reminded that he loves me and that he owns me, no matter what. I touched it, tucked discreetly inside my bag, whenever I was feeling shaky.

I'm going to end this entry on an open note, because there is no conclusion to this yet. Things are in motion. I am trying. He is working on getting me back to good. I'll be strong again soon, or I won't, but neither of us is going to give up.

Back Slide

2008-10-01T10:30:00.001-04:00

I remember spending some time in August reflecting on my submission. I thought about how far I'd come and how strong I was after the trials of the spring. I couldn't believe what He had led me to accomplish in those months. I wasn't afraid of anything that I had done in the past and was feeling like I could handle anything we approached next.

But now, at the start of October, I've had a major back slide. I can't point to any one thing, really. He has changed jobs recently and I have seen him a lot less. I've been taking care of myself a bit more because I've spend the time between weekends by myself. And for other reasons, those weekends we have spent together haven't included any overnights. If I was really under his control before, I have been relatively free for the last month.

It's strange how I can feel this submissive energy ebbing away. I had started to feel like a supersub, so confident that I had done something great, but all of that confidence has deserted me. I don't know if I could take some of the punishments that I took this summer now. I don't know if I could reach that blissful perfect state of submission to Him that I have often felt over the past few months.

The little things are so obviously wrong with me. I was completely unable to follow a simple order the other night, one that didn't mean a lot to me but really meant a lot to him. I got a "bad Kitten" for that, which made me feel even worse about myself. Last weekend I was mouthy with him in a way that was just completely unnecessary and didn't accomplish anything. I saw myself as a pretty terrible person after that, not to mention a bad submissive (and I think we can agree that the bar for good behavior is much higher for us than it is for non-submissive women).

At the same time, we've been talking about moving in together in a couple of months. I'm very excited about that prospect because I hate spending time away from him, but it means real 24/7 D/s not the improvised, sort of 24/7 thing that we've been doing for a year. It means ten times more control and no independent life for me to escape to. I've been living pretty heavily in that independent life lately and the thought of losing it altogether is extremely frightening right now. If I can't manage the small things, what will I do when I return home to him and be tested every night?

I know that I've been hiding. As my failures mount so do my doubts, and so does the draw of everything that is mine and mine only. I didn't need this three months ago as badly as I do now because now I have that much more to lose. The other night, he moved a plant in my bedroom (MY bedroom) and I lost it. He didn't want the plant next to the bed while he slept, so told me that it would be moved anytime that he stayed over and, when he moved in, it would have to be relocated permanently. Somehow, moving that plant on his orders became the biggest thing in the world. It symbolized everything that would change and my complete loss of control over all levels of my life. It showed me just how little say I would have over anything once he moved permanently into my life. It told me, unequivocally, that my home, my body, my possessions are no longer my own.

That stupid plant was evidence of everything that I had lost. I could let it go, accept that his needs trump my favored place for the plant, and move on with my life. Or I could dwell on it, worrying about everything else that will change and everything else that he will control. In my fragile state, I chose the route of anxiety. I could not find my way to acceptance.

That's where I still am as of this post. He knows how I am feeling and he recognized that the issue with the plant was not about home decor. He knows that I have lost my way and I think that he will be bearing down on me in order to bring me back into line. Because unless I find my way back? We'll never move forward.

Owned

2008-09-29T10:35:00.001-04:00

It's about being owned. It's about today and being owned today, but it's also about tomorrow. It's about being owned tomorrow and every day after that. It's about what happens next month and in the spring when He moves in. It's about when we're married and all of the years after that.

It's about what it means to be owned every day, every minute of every day for the rest of my life. It's about not knowing what that means. It's about control and not knowing where this is going. It's about the suggestion of more, the threat of more.

It's about not knowing if I can breathe, and not knowing why I wanted to get into this in the first place. It's about wondering what was so bad about being unowned, unaware of this life that I'm now living. It's about thinking that I could go back to vanilla life and unsatisfactory sex and closed-off emotions if I wanted to. It's about the possibility of escape and the impossibility of return.

It's not about love or about safety or about security. It's not about what I've grown accustomed to. It's about making the choice to give up all choices. It's about being completely owned.

Update

2008-09-26T14:00:00.001-04:00

A curious commenter asked recently about His efforts to arrange an...arrangement with another submissive woman. You may recall that at first he assigned me with the task of finding her, which led me to several interesting places on the web but not to success. I managed to encounter more dominants (who already had partners) who wanted to meet up with me (even though I already have a partner). I was very frustrated with the effort and it was weighing pretty heavily on me. So he decided to take over.

It was difficult for me to admit defeat, but I really was at a loss as to what to do. I don't know how to approach women and I really wasn't having any success. By giving the task up to Him, he asked that I trust him and place the responsibility totally in his hands.

I had a bit of difficulty with that, though, as it turned out. I wanted to be involved and he promised that I would be, but I just couldn't catch my balance. I didn't want to control the situation and exercise this massive supervisory veto power over every step he took, but I was also fearful of what could happen without my knowledge. Additionally, I didn't want him to communicate a different goal to whoever he talked to. I have a very specific feeling about what I want us to get out of this experience and what I am looking to avoid, but I couldn't let go and trust him to find the right person.

He talked to several people online, including one very lovely girl who we both liked but the situation just didn't come to fruition. I involved myself in the communications with her and I hope that I didn't scare her away, but I just don't know how to be in this circumstance.

Obviously, this has been anxiety-producing for me. Just the other night, I had a nightmare that I found pictures of Him with another submissive on her MySpace page. Of course it was just a dream and that dream girl (with the huge boobs!) is not real, but it has been on my mind. So I'm not hesitant to tell you that I'm a bit relieved that the effort has stalled as of late. He and I are still on the look-out for the right person, but I think it's going to result from meeting people in our community and getting to know them rather than a forced search for someone.

I'm hopeful to find the right person who will share not only one passionate night with us, but who can also share a part of our lives for a time. I'm not discouraged because I know that my patience will be rewarded. In the meantime, I am working on trusting him and building our relationship. The stronger and more grounded we are, the better an experience this will be in the long run.

Anon, thanks for your questions. Anyone else have anything that they need answered? ;-)

Party

2008-09-22T16:30:00.001-04:00

I am very private about my relationship (except, oddly, in keeping this blog). I have told one of my real life friends a tiny bit about my relationship, but I don't think he really got it. I think things are better that way because I don't know how I'd even start to explain things the way they actually are.

I have wonderful commenters and fellow-bloggers who really get where I am coming from. There are several of you in particular who really understand and who are going through the same experiences - the exact same ones, imagine - but I won't embarass you by mentioning you by name. Just know that I love reading your blogs and feel better because you understand the beautiful and the ugly parts of my life.

That said, I don't have any real friends in "the lifestyle." Those aren't sarcastic quotes, but more illustrative of what my view on community and BDSM has been since I started with Him, which is to say that I have no view of community and BDSM. I've been with Him for a year and never once have I thought that anyone else besides the two of us is part of what we do and there has been no stopping this once we began. It's funny, because I see new submissives commonly asking others online for tips on how to start this, and I'm never able to give advice. I don't know how to start. I didn't plan this. It just happened. Submission just happens.

I'm owned and what we do may look like M/s or D/s or whatever, but we don't put labels on it. I've never waded into all of those internet arguments about whose relationship is more real than anyone else's, or whether my lack of a safeword is abuse, or whether we've negotiated and contracted every last detail of this crazy journey that we've been on. (Answers: (1) my relationship is real and the rest of you can figure out your own relationships, (2) I don't have a safeword and I'm not abused and I like it that way, and (3) no negotiations and no acronyms and it's scary/wonderful that way.)

Anyway, my therapist thinks that I need to have friends in "the lifestyle," not because I need to go to a workshop to learn how to be spanked (which I don't and I'm strenuously against more classes, as if I didn't spend the first 25 years of my life locked in a classroom), but because I need people in my life who accept my relationship and don't need it explained to them. People who just get it.

So! He and I will be going to our first party this weekend at the invitation of the owners of a local dungeon. I'm intimidated as hell by the people because I'm sure I'll come off as young and naive and won't have an answer to the questions about how long I've been part of "the scene." (Answer: For about 10 minutes.) And more importantly, I have sexy lingerie but no actual fetish wear. What am I supposed to wear?!?

Mine

2008-09-19T13:00:00.001-04:00

I was kneeling before Him in the living room, working his cock slowly in my mouth. I was focusing very intently on him and only him, his pleasure, his little moans. As I serviced him, he started pulling on my hair and pushing my face down onto his cock more roughly. He was getting more excited and his mean streak was coming out. I could see it behind his eyes.

"You had better keep that up because you're going to work on my cock all night."

I looked up at him through my hair with a surprised look in my eyes.

"Oh, don't worry. I'll feed you dinner. But after that, you're going to be right back on your knees. You think you eat for free around here? You have to find a way to earn your keep, you know."

I looked down, ashamed. His words echoed in my ears: "earn your keep." I tried to push the thoughts out of my mind and focus on the task at hand, but he was not done.

"You are such a little whore. Look how much you love doing that." I continued, sure that if I showed how his words affected me, he would only taunt me further. He pulled me up on his lap and had me fuck him. He didn't seem to care if I came. He was using my body for his pleasure only.

He pulled me close and tugged on the hair at the nape of my neck. He growled in my ear: "I knew what a kind of girl you were from the moment I saw you."

Foolishly, I asked, "What kind of girl am I?" I don't know why I asked this. I knew what kind of mood he was in. I knew what he would say. But there was a part of me that wondered what kind of girl I was then and what kind of girl I have become, and whether I could bear to see how he saw me. Whether I could bear the changes.

"A dirty girl. I knew you were a dirty little girl from the moment I met you." I shook my head, tried to deny it. "I knew you would let me fuck you as soon as I wanted. I knew you would let me do all of these things to you."

"No...," I protested weakly. He just held me tight to him as he bounced me up and down on his cock, faster and faster. He was hurting my neck with the force he was using to pull my hair.

Right before he came, he hissed in my ear: "I know I would own you and that I'd make you my whore. I always knew."

Awoken

2008-09-18T11:30:00.000-04:00

I got into my pajamas and brushed my teeth. The lights were already dimmed in my apartment and I was getting ready for bed. I brushed my hair and put moisturizer on my face. I settled under the covers with the air conditioner blowing toward the bed so I could fall asleep in cool comfort. I waited for Him to call to put me to bed.

And I waited.

And I waited.

Over the next two hours, I tossed and turned in bed. I got up and opened the windows, got back into bed, got up to close the windows, got back into bed. I went out to the couch to see if I could sleep there before slinking back into the bedroom. I checked my phone obsessively.

I started thinking about those people who have blood clots lurking in their bodies and how those blood clots move to their brains and they drop dead without warning. I started worrying about blood clots lurking in my body. I was fretting over all of the things that could kill me suddenly, immediately as I lay in bed. I was spinning out of control and why, oh why wouldn't He call?

Finally, at 1:30, He called. He had fallen asleep early and had accidentally missed my bedtime.

I was so upset by the time he called that I had a panic attack. That hasn't happened in a very long time and it was a frightening development. There was a time, more than seven years ago, when I had panic attacks every day. I was completely crippled by them. My life narrowed to the time between these attacks, minus the time anticipating an attack, minus the time to recover from an attack. I remember that year as one of constant, crushing anxiety. Almost all of my recollections from that year involve the bedroom in my campus apartment: me pacing the small space between the computer desk and the bed and the door, phone clasped to my ear, desperately pleading for someone to help me deal with the unbelievable pain.

In any case, this was just one panic attack. One. It did not recur in the following days and I feel just as strong as ever. The amazing thing about the experience was the way that He helped me through it. In the old days, I was so frustrated by my panic attacks because no one seemed to know how to help, especially not my boyfriend at the time. I was desperate for someone to just comfort me, or reassure me or something I couldn't then describe.

Who knew that being owned would give me the perfect tools to battle the devastation of a panic attack? My owner reassured me on every front - that I am owned, that I am loved, that he is taking care of me, that everything will be okay - and I believed him with all of my heart. After the panic subsided and I was left feeling depleted and tired, he had me continue to breathe deep and cuddle with my favorite stuffed animal so that I could relax. He stayed on the phone with me until I was nearly asleep and then quietly told me that he loved me.

I mumbled groggily, "I love my owner," before I put the phone down and finally drifted off to sleep.

Floating

2008-09-15T17:12:00.004-04:00

After the ups and downs of August, September has settled into a predictable rhythm. Not that predictability is bad. If anything, I'm a creature of habit and ritual. I am happy to be back at balance with Him.

What does balance look like for us? Sometimes it can look awfully vanilla, like a Saturday afternoon at Target buying new hand towels for my apartment or a quiet dinner at our favorite local Chinese place. Later, behind closed doors, there will be pulled hair and tears and commands. But for a time, we look like any other couple you'd see. That ordinariness is soothing after some of the tumultuous times that we have had lately.

I like to hide in our vanilla facade sometimes. I like to think that there is nothing deviant or unusual about us. I don't know why, but I like spending my weekend doing things that I can actually tell my coworkers about on Monday.

I am looking forward to fall and our anniversary. I am looking forward to the cool, crisp evenings like the evening of our first encounter. It turned cool as we touched for the first time, and the breeze blew in the open windows. There was rain and beautiful lightning. It was the last gasp before the cold.

We fell in love in the cold and I cannot wait to be back there again. I cannot wait for the long, dark nights huddled in my bed with Him. I am desperate for the silence of winter, the weekends snowed inside, completely buffeted from the outside world. That is what I wish for from Him more than anything - solace, complete isolation, being wrapped warm in his control. As the months tick by, I imagine myself completely encased in cotton, as if I am packed away. I cannot hear or move. I can see the bright white all around me. Everything is quiet.

I am not done with this space, not even close. I know that I have updated less frequently and I will get back on track soon. For now, know that I am well and that I am happy. Trust that we are still on our path and we are in lockstep, going wherever we are headed.

Doppelganger

2008-09-10T15:00:00.000-04:00

I think that He knows me better than anyone else in the world. And I like to think that I know more about him than anyone else, but there is still a part of him that is hidden from me. It is the deepest, most darkly sadistic version of himself, the part that he is hesitant to show me for fear that I will be too afraid of what I see.

Often when we are in the heat of the moment, he is coolly dispassionate. He steps back and surveys my naked body, he applies the belt strategically, he pauses. He is calm and professorial is his demeanor. He is having fun and, most importantly, he is completely collected.

In contrast, the other version of him is absolutely wild. It is unhinged, manic, rabid. I can tell when the other him has come out when I see his eyes. They are full of rage and hunger. They make me instantly afraid - of where the man I know has gone, of whether this other version of him will know where to stop, of my own capacity to take what he has to give. Sometimes I think that I can coax the reasonable, rational version of him out from behind the monster, but often that only makes him more excited. When he sees that his prey is scared and flailing, begging for mercy, he only sinks his teeth in more deeply and holds on more tightly.

Last Friday, I encountered this version of him unexpectedly. I was sucking his cock in the living room when he pulled me up roughly by my hair. I saw that evil glint in his eyes and I knew. I knew as he pushed me over the couch and fucked me hard, clawing at my back. I knew as he forced his cock into my mouth and choked me without mercy. I knew as he knocked me to the ground and hit me that he was out. There would be no caging him until he had his release.

Only after bending my legs back and fucking me until I cried and we both came did he relent. Then he went back into hiding, behind the calm facade of my owner. He lays there quietly, waiting for his chance to come out again.

Locked From the Inside

2008-09-08T15:43:00.003-04:00

You know you can leave if you want, even though I don't think you want to leave. There's still a door but it's locked from the inside.

You're like a puppy who sees an open front door. You get excited and you think you'll be free and you run out of the door. But you come running back after five steps outside. You want to be home and safe and you can't handle being free.

You wouldn't make it one day on the outside. You'd come running right back inside like that puppy.

I know you like to think that you can leave if you want. I'm not going to physically hold you or stop you. But it's not me that's keeping you by my side.

The old you is dead and you can't get her back. Even if you left, even if you thought you were free, you'd never be able to be the old you ever again. I'll own you forever. You'll never be free.

Coming Out of the Silence

2008-09-05T16:00:00.001-04:00

For a day or so after our intense argument early in the week, I was mostly quiet. I agreed with Him and generally went along with everything without complaint. I was still a bit scared of the man that I saw that night. I wasn't sure how to mesh that person with the sweet man who chauffeured me to a doctor's appointment, who made me coffee each morning, and who held my hand as we watched a scary movie. If anything, I thought maybe I had made part of that experience up, or that I had read the situation incorrectly? Because people certainly don't go from pinning down their girlfriends and telling them that they cannot ever leave to being sweet overnight, right?

I found myself thinking about what I should do at the end of the week. I could keep my intentions to myself and just head home, I could change my locks and drop off of the face of the earth. I love Him, but I thought thought I was supposed to be able to leave if I wanted. I thought that was the only rule. In our 24/7 dynamic, I thought that the choice to leave, to say "I withdraw my consent," was the only rule that we still had. I thought it was my last line of defense. But he wouldn't let me exercise it, so I didn't know where I stood.

We talked about it eventually. I told him how scared I was, how I didn't understand why what he did was okay. He recognized that it was an intense experience, but he didn't think anything was ever going to be normal with us. We could never just walk away from each other. We could never just put one another down and pretend like it didn't affect us to the very core level. He is right about that.

I told him that I didn't know how to process what had happened, only that I knew what he had done would have been unacceptable for anyone else's boyfriend. If one of my girlfriends came to me with this story (...all of it...), I'd probably tell her to run away. I kept feeling like that for days, focusing on the paradigm of the controlling boyfriend, until he stopped me short.

"I'm not your boyfriend. I OWN you. I know what is best for you and I will do whatever I want with you. Do you understand that now?"

I need to stop thinking of him as my boyfriend. That's what he is to the outside world, to the people at work and my family. But he's not my boyfriend, not really. I've been thinking a lot about the public/private aspects of our relationship and the cognitive dissonance that that divide causes for me. I remember all of the times when friends who know me as a Type A in-charge woman joked about how I probably wear the pants in the relationship while I looked down and he gripped the back of my neck tighter and tighter. We always laugh that off, but I'm a little bit sick of behaving one way in public and another way in private.

I used to think that part of the allure of my submission and all that comes with it is that it is taboo and wrong. I thought that I was thrilled by my little secret and even worried a bit about the lustre wearing off as the taboos became an acceptable part of my life. But that's not the case at all. The ruse of the "secret life" is exhausting and I hate it. I want to be who I am with him all of the time. I want to stop worrying about playing to my audience. I want for him to really be my owner 24/7 and I want people to know.

I've ventured off topic, but I feel like this is an important point. I got past the drama of that evening and we are back to normal. I did not leave and he will be letting himself into my apartment tonight as usual. But we are also back to keeping our relationship silent out of fear of whatever is out there. Out of our own desire for privacy, sure, but also out of a desire not to face the judgment of the world that tells us that what we are doing is wrong.

Silence

2008-09-02T10:15:00.002-04:00

I haven't written during the past week. I spent the whole week at home with Him. I've thought about sharing this experience all week, but I hesitated because of how complicated it was for me. It was intense, and my account doesn't really do justice to what happened. This is only part of the story:

Early in the week, I got upset about something. I listened to his apology, but I couldn't get past it. I sat on the bed next to him with my knees pulled up to my chest. He tried to touch me but I brushed him off. He wanted me to lay down next to him, but I didn't want to be held or to look at him.

I wanted to leave. I mean, I thought I did. I wanted to be in my car, driving away. I wanted to sit alone and think. I wanted to be inside myself for a while so I could figure out how to come back to him.

I told him that I wanted to go and I moved to the edge of the bed. He put his hand on the back of my neck and squeezed. "You don't want to go. You want to stay here with me," he said quietly under his breath.

"No, I want to go. I want to be by myself," I mumbled. I could hear the waver in my own voice.

He shook his head. He tightened his grip on my neck and tilted my face so that he could look me in the eye. I looked away, anywhere so he couldn't see into me. I could feel his eyes on me anyway.

"Stop that," I said, covering my eyes with my hands.

"Stop what?," he asked as he continued to burn his way inside of me.

"Your eyes...stop that!," I cried. I tried to twist away from him. He just pressed down on the back of my neck until my forehead pressed against the mattress.

His breath was hot against my ear. "You want to go home and be by yourself?" I nodded. I was too scared to speak. "You want to be free?" I didn't move. I was too confused. "Or do you want to be owned by someone else?," he hissed as he gripped the back of my neck so hard that I cried out. "You're not going anywhere tonight. You're going to brush you teeth and then I'm going to put you to bed."

I sobbed with my face pressed into the mattress. He stroked the back of my head as I cried and murmured in my ear. He told me all the things we would do that week. He was suddenly being so sweet, I almost forgot that he was holding me down by my neck.

After he let me sit up, I moved to the edge of the bed again. I wasn't sure what I wanted anymore, but the fact that he wouldn't let me go made me want to leave all the more. I stood up and he grabbed my wrist to pull me back down onto the bed. He sat on top of me and held my wrists down.

"I told you, you're not leaving. You need to be here with me," he said, his eyes dark with anger. My wrists hurt and I struggled against him. "It will stop hurting if you stop struggling," he warned.

He slid down to lay next to me, resting his hand on the front of my neck. Tears were running down the sides of my face. I stared straight up at the ceiling and tried not to look at him. "I think I want to go," I whined.

"You think you want to?," he asked.

"I don't know...I think so...," I trailed off.

He slapped my face hard three times. "NO, you don't," he said with a great deal of force. "I can't be without you tonight."

I sat quietly for a long time and let him hold me. I wanted to be upset, but I could feel my resolve slipping away. He was right - I shouldn't be alone and it was too late for me to drive. Maybe I could just stay that one night...

He pulled me closer and I melted into him a bit. "That's a good kitten." I closed my eyes and felt the great draw of inertia. I could just lay there. It would be so easy.

"I want to make love to you," he whispered. He pulled up my nightgown. I squeezed my eyes shut as he felt between my legs. I was completely soaked, against all reason. He wrapped my legs around his waist and started fucking me gently.

I sobbed as he started thrusting into me with more force. I clung to him and he let me blubber against his shoulder. We came together in great shuddering gasps and fell back onto the pillows together.

I felt so wrung out. I let him lead me into the bathroom, where he watched me brush my teeth. Then he led me back into the bedroom and tucked me into bed. He turned off the light and shut the door behind him. I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

Neck

2008-08-26T09:00:00.001-04:00

I approach Him from behind. He sits at the table facing away from me. He is preoccupied by what he is reading. He is not paying attention to me right now.

I creep up behind him, slowly. I pause for a moment to stare at the back of his neck above his collar. I am drawn to this exposed piece of skin.

I lean down and gently brush my lips against the back of his neck. He shudders, raising his shoulders slightly before sighing and leaning back against me. I snake my arms around his shoulders and bury my face in the back of his neck.

As I nuzzle his neck, I breathe him in. I take deep breaths and hold his scent in my nose for as long as I can. I want to remember his scent, I want to carry it with me when I have to go out into the world without him.

He touches my arms lightly and brings me around to sit on his lap. I sink against him as he sighs, "My little Kitten." I rest my head against his shoulder and close my eyes as he cradles me in his arms.

I am not sleepy, but I find myself drifting away as he rocks me back and forth in his arms. We are quiet, for the moment.

Descent

2008-08-25T09:00:00.001-04:00

I knelt before Him. He pushed me down onto all fours and held out his cock. "Here, come and get it." I opened my mouth to take him and he stepped backward. I crawled forward and opened my mouth again, only to have him step backward again. I crawled halfway across the room after him before he let me take him in my mouth. "I love to see you crawling like that, all hungry for my cock," he smiled.

He rocked his hips as I sucked on him, thrusting gently into my mouth and guiding my head. He was letting me control the speed and the tempo for the time being, and I was able to look up at him as I worked. But after a few minutes, he gripped my hair more firmly and started fucking my face more quickly.

I started to gag and pull back, but he wasn't letting me go anywhere. I scrambled from my kneeling position and back onto my ass, but he just held my head back and leaned forward until his cock was deep in my throat. I couldn't control anything at that point. My mouth was held open and he kept plunging his cock as deep as he could. I was gagging, but he wasn't letting up.

As I choked and sputtered, I tried to lean back to get away from him. He wasn't stopping, so he kept thrusting forward as I leaned back and back and back. At one point, I was lying flat on my back and he was crouched on top of me, still fucking my mouth. My arms were pinned under his legs and I could do nothing but flail my legs.

He seemed to relish my position because, between gagging and choking, I noticed that he was still smiling. My eyes were wide and I was trying to breathe, but he enjoyed every moment more than the one before. When he saw the surprised look on my face, he said slyly, "I feel like I just captured my prey and now you can't get away." I whimpered and he kept fucking my face. I could not resist. I could not do anything.

Trouble, Part III

2008-08-22T09:00:00.000-04:00

He put me up against the wall as soon as we were alone together. He groped me roughly and taunted me - did my guests know what He was doing to me as soon as they left? What would they think of me if they knew?

He forced me down to my knees and fucked my face roughly, bruising my upper lip with the force of his thrusts. I tried to pull away, but he just pulled my hair harder and kept me on his cock.

"Up," he said as he used my hair to pull me to a standing position. He led me into the bedroom, detouring through the dining room to pick up the paddle from where I had placed it on the table. As we entered the bedroom, he shoved me hard and I went flying forward onto the bed. I was surprised, and as I hesitated with fear he pulled my dress up over my head and my panties down to my ankles.

"Do you want your punishment now, or later at my house?," he asked diplomatically.

"Now, please," I said immediately. I had been waiting all week. I had to get this over with.

"All of it now?"

"Yes, sir."

He stood back and I braced myself. I gripped the sheets on the bed and squeezed my eyes shut. He started paddling me, slowly building up the force he was using, until I was crying and writhing on the bed. He came over and laid next to me, petting my already-sore ass with the furry side of the paddle. I was taking large, gulping breaths and trying not to sob too loudly. I wanted to take my punishment like a good girl.

"What did you learn this week, Kitten?," he asked. I looked up at him through my hair.

"To tell you everything. To trust you. To think of you first always."

"That's right, what else?"

"That you control everything and that I'm not free."

"Yes," he sighed and he got up to start paddling me again. He hit me in time with his words. "And...no...more...lunches...without...asking...me...first."

"Yes sir, yes," I cried. He pulled me up off of the bed by my hair and deposited me in a pile at his feet. I was woozy from the paddling. I clung to his legs, unable to kneel on my own.

He picked up something off of my dresser and held his hands behind my back. He told me to pick a hand - one would mean 10 more hits and the other would mean 20 more. I reached out my hand and lightly tapped his right hand before sinking to the ground.

"Ten more, Kitten, then you're done." He helped me back onto the bed and I laid there like a rag doll. I just needed to breathe to be able to get through this. If I could just keep breathing...

He gave me ten more hits with the paddle. Then he curled up next to me, lightly tracing his fingers over the bruises blooming on my ass. I felt safe and comforted by him, and any doubts that I had about my transgressions and my rules were gone. My mind was clear and we were starting a new day.

An hour later, in the car to his house, I dozed lightly in the front seat of the car. He kept his hand on my leg and, when we got to the house, he picked me up and carried me inside.

First

2008-08-21T10:00:00.001-04:00

We kissed as we sat on my couch, those slow, lingering kisses, the ones without any urgency. He slid his fingers into my panties. I was already soaked for him.

I pulled him into the bedroom. It was dark except for the streetlight poring in the open window. I slipped my dress over my head and laid my body on top of his, feeling him underneath my skin.

As we kissed and touched, as he fingered me and made me come, as I took his cock in my mouth...all of these feelings came flooding back. The dark room, the open window with the cool breeze blowing in, the unhurried exploration of each others bodies. It felt like the first time.

"I knew I was going to own you the first time I touched you," He whispered to me in the dark. "I knew you would be mine."

I whispered back to him, because to speak aloud would break the spell: "How did you know?"

He laughed quietly and slid his fingers into me again. I arched my back and opened my legs even more for him. "I was always meant to own you. And I always will."

Office

2008-08-14T15:40:00.002-04:00

I sit in my office and try to work, but I am distracted. I am thinking about the paddle that I bought this morning. It is my bag, nestled there where no one can see it. I am thinking about my new rules and how I will handle them in the future.

My cheeks are already burning in anticipation of the punishment that I will face tomorrow night. The anticipation is the worst. He has grown calm and determined about my punishment in the last few days. He is not angry, but he is serious about what happened and ensuring that it never happens again. He is serious that I learn my lesson and that I take on the new burdens that he has set out for me.

I wonder how many hits with the paddle I will receive, then I quickly put this thought out of my mind. I must remember to breathe, I must repeat my rules to myself to keep calm, but I cannot panic. I cannot worry about how much more of the pain I will have to bear.

I receive an e-mail from my friend Anne, who wants to meet me for drinks after work next week. I am ready for this. I do not respond right away. Instead, I forward her e-mail to Him and ask if it is okay for me to meet with her. I wait impatiently, drumming my fingers on my desk as I will him to respond that I may.

I sit there, waiting, wondering, worrying, anticipating, fretting, dreaming.

My assistant comes into my office from the outer office area with a file for my meeting and I put all of these thoughts away. I close my e-mail and hope that there will be a response from him when I return. I stand up behind my desk and straighten my hair in an attempt to look pulled together, like the serious businesswoman that I am supposed to be. I take the file and, stepping over my bag with the paddle in it, I head toward my meeting.

Trouble, Part II

2008-08-12T11:25:00.002-04:00

I don't know what I was thinking when I accepted a last-minute lunch invitation from my friend Paul. I wasn't thinking, actually. While I consider Paul to be a platonic friend because we have known each other for 8 years, that has not always been the case. We were lovers, briefly, five or six years ago. When our affair fizzled out, we reverted to being just friends again.

But He is wary of Paul and does not like that we remain in contact. So later that afternoon when I told him over the phone about my lunch, he got very quiet. He ended the call quickly, but I thought I was in the clear.

Until the e-mails started coming through. "You really enjoy your freedom, don't you? You may have less of it very soon."

And: "You'll be dealt with accordingly."

And: "I am not pleased at all."

He commanded me to get a paddle before he saw me over the weekend. More shockingly, he canceled our meeting that night. I would be forced to stay home and think about what I had done and contemplate how I had forced him to implement new stricter rules.

When I arrived home that night, He was waiting in his car outside my building. It was a wonderful surprise after a harrowing day. "I knew that you shouldn't be alone tonight," he whispered into my hair as I hugged him. "I knew my kitten needed me with her tonight."

As we talked inside, he laid out my new rules and restrictions. He will monitor my phone use when in his presence and review all texts and e-mails that I receive or send during that time. He set out specific instructions for my conduct with my friends, including remaining by his side or at his feet and deferring to him before I speak. He required me to come to him for approval for all social engagements, no matter how innocent. And I was not to see Paul again.

"That's not fair," I said quietly, twisting my hands in my lap and staring at the floor as I knelt at his feet. "He's my friend. Nothing happened. It's not fair."

He sat there passively with a benevolent look on his face. "I know," he said with a hint of false sympathy. "It isn't fair. But that is the way that it is going to be."

I cried and protested for a while longer. I could see how things would go in the worst scenario: I would alienate Paul completely, I'd lose my other friends under the weight of his restrictions. I would cease to be a grown woman who decides what she can do and when. I would be turned into a child who must ask permission to go outside to play with her friends and He would become the parent who would have the power to say no and keep me inside.

"Kitten, do you accept your new rules?," he asked. I continued to look at the ground and mumbled a reluctant yes. "No, you have to really accept them. I'm not convinced that you understand why you need this."

"I don't need this!," I exclaimed. "I'm a good girl! I didn't do anything with Paul!"

"It's not about that. It is about you needing more discipline in your life." He paused. "You feel pretty free most of the time, don't you?"

"Yes," I said flatly. (Had he been reading my blog?)

"You're freer than a lot of other girls out there. It's getting in the way of your training. I need to hold you on a tighter leash and I need you to feel me there with you always. I need you not to forget that you're owned...ever."

"Well, what about my friend Ted? I kissed him during freshman year of college! I think it was with tongue!," I roared incredulously. "That was ten years ago, but are you going to forbid me from seeing him too?"

"No, Kitten, you know that I'm fair with you. As long as you don't give me a reason to doubt you," he smiled. "I need you to look me in the eye and accept your rules."

"Or what? What's the other option?"

"There is no other option," he said.

I started crying, feeling truly trapped for the first time. I thought that I could work my way out of this situation, or play to his forgiving nature. But he wasn't budging. It wasn't even the punishment that I had coming. I would worry about that later. It was the prospect of spending the rest of my life like this, being shut in a series of progressively smaller cages.

He cupped my chin in his hand and forced me to look up at him. "You want submission when it's easy. When it's convenient for you?" I opened my mouth to protest then quickly closed it. He was right. "Now do you see that accepting this will be good for you? You need to learn this lesson."

I took a deep breath and nodded. I looked right at him and said, "I accept."

There was a heaviness in my heart as he held me and told me that I was a good girl for accepting the new rules. I pouted for the rest of the night and cried again before bed that night. I slept fitfully. But I woke cradled in his arms, and everything felt safe and right again.

Trouble

2008-08-07T15:10:00.002-04:00

Are there scarier words in a submissive's world than "you will be dealt with accordingly?"

Maybe these words. An e-mail from earlier today, when I messed up big time:

You have an assignment. There is no choice but to follow these orders.

You have today after work and tomorrow to get it done. Find that sex shop near your job. Get a paddle. Any paddle.......and have it ready.

Also an enema.....

Have both of those things ready for me to use this weekend. I know it's not much time, but that's the way it's going to be.

Got it?

Yes, Sir.

Pet

2008-08-06T09:30:00.004-04:00

I was kneeling between his legs. He was stretched out on the bed, waiting for me to take his cock in my mouth. "Down," he coaxed, pushing on the back of my head, "down."

I lowered my head under pressure from his hand. "Good," he patted my head, "that's a good dog."

I froze, mid-suck. Did he just call me a dog? No, couldn't be. I chose to ignore it and kept sucking.

"Now, sit up," he cooed. I looked up at him with questioning eyes. "Sit up like a good dog."

I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. I had to obey but I didn't understand what he was doing. I sat up anyway and squeezed my hands together to manage the tension.

"See? You are a good dog!," he exclaimed with mock enthusiasm. I shook my head, still not sure what he was doing, aside from humiliating me. "Back down," he said and I lowered my head.

As I continued to suck him, he rubbed the back of my head and cooed some more about what a good dog I was for him. I sat up abruptly.

"I'm not a dog," I said with some hesitation. It seemed silly to have to assert such a thing about myself.

"Of course you are," he said with a frustrating lilt to his voice. "You sit up, you beg, you roll over-"

My hands flew up to my ears. "I'm not a dog!," I said louder, cutting him off from his list of my canine attributes. I couldn't listen to him recount all of the things that I do that, now that I thought about it, sounded awfully a lot like the things dogs do.

"Down," he said quickly, and I ducked my head down to his cock. He chuckled to himself and patted me on the head again. Dammit, I thought. I obeyed his command just like a dog. Oh god.

I started sniffling as I sucked his cock, not wanting to believe that he thought I was an animal. Not willing to admit that I act just like one. Tears dripped down my face as I started quietly crying.

"What's wrong?," he asked.

I looked up and mumbled, "I'm not a dog," through my sobs.

"Oh, yes you are," he said quietly.

"No, I'm a girl," I said, quietly at first. I kept repeating it to myself. "I'm a girl, I'm a girl, I'm a girl..." I kept up this mantra as I tried to block out all of the thoughts about the commands that I follow like a dog, the crawling on the floor, the begging. Was I trying to convince him that I was a girl or convince myself?

He pushed my head back down onto his cock and I managed to suck his cock. I stopped sniffling and was finally able to make him come in my mouth. It seemed like a hollow victory, since I had been so humiliated in the process.

He pulled me up next to him when I was finished. He nuzzled my neck and held me close, but I felt detached. I didn't know what to think of what just happened. He whispered in my ear: "Kitten, you're whatever I want you to be."

Freedom

2008-08-05T12:57:00.000-04:00

Any situation in which some individuals prevent others from engaging in the process of inquiry is one of violence. The means used are not important; to alienate human beings from their own decision making is to change them into objects. - Paulo Friere

We were discussing the status of my training and my occasional habit of treating my submission, as He says, "like something that can be put down when it is inconvenient." I know that he was only being constructive in his criticism, but that evaluation really hurt. I take my submission very seriously and have never thought that I could just put it down and pick it back up at will. But He sees more than I do, and if he is dissatisfied by my behavior from time to time, then that is what matters. I am sure that his perception on this issue is affected by my recent behavior with my friends, but I don't want this to turn into a regular habit for me. I have to fix this before it becomes a more serious issue.

I have been thinking about why I would treat my submission as something more casual than it is, even unconsciously. I have thought about my restrictions and compared them to the restrictions of many of the subs that I know - in comparison, I have it very easy. I get up every day whenever I want, choose my own clothes for the day, make my way to work and continue to make thousands of little decisions for myself throughout the day. If I am not set to see him that day, I make my way home, eat a dinner of my own choosing, and just make sure that I am in bed by my bedtime. If I do see him, I am subject to his commands and demands, but that is the case only two or three times a week. I am always subject to my general rules, but the proscriptions on my daily activities are minimal.

I told him that this may be why I am too casual about my submission sometimes. I feel free most of the time. I do not identify as a slave and there are times when I feel like I can do whatever I want. Most of the time, I can do whatever I want.

But when I told him this, he laughed quietly. "What?," I asked, wondering what was so funny.

"That you think you get to do whatever you want, Kitten," he said.

"But I do! I can wear whatever I want and go see my friends whenever I want and...," I trailed off as he shot me a look.

"You go to work and do your job. That's the only thing you're free to do. Everything else you do because I let you." I stared at him with my mouth slightly open, trying to understand what he was saying. He grabbed the back of my neck and brought my face close to his for emphasis. "You go see your little friends," he sneered, "and you think you have control but you don't. I let you go see them, but don't forget that that can stop at any time. I can stop any of this at any time. What you wear, what you eat, who you see, who you e-mail...I control all of it."

"But...," I stammered, "you wouldn't stop me from seeing my friends, would you?"

"Just try me. Then you'll know exactly how not free you are."

I think I have freedom but I don't really. This feeling that I carry with me throughout the day as I make all of my little decisions is just an illusion. All of those little things are inconsequential, anyway. I may feel important that I can choose between wearing a skirt and pants to work in the morning, but when it comes down to it, I have no control where it really matters. I am owned and I cannot lose sight of that. I cannot forget that, even though he is not there holding the back of my neck at all times, that I am completely under his control.

Friends

2008-08-04T18:38:00.000-04:00

About a year ago, I spent a long weekend with my two best friends. I have known these friends for over ten years and count them among the closest people in my life. That weekend we spent together marked the endpoint of a long summer spent together, traveling together, taking trips to the beach, going to parties and concerts, and generally enjoying each others company. The final weekend of that summer, we planned to attend an outdoor music festival. We were going to see my all-time favorite band, one that I had not been able to see perform live because of their overwhelming popularity and the scarcity of (affordable) tickets to their shows.

So, that beautiful Saturday afternoon, we set out for the show. We were in high spirits. I was relaxed and tanned from long days at the Cape. I was still entangled in a relationship of sorts with D., but at that moment I had resolved to draw things to a close. I had enjoyed our time together, but I was starting to feel like I either wanted to be in a real relationship or be by myself. I was ready to be by myself for a change.

I was at the height of my confidence on that day. I had everything that I wanted. I mingled among my friends and the crowd at the festival, sure of my every movement. For once, I didn't care who was looking at me or what other people thought. For once, I was without anxiety about my appearance or my mannerisms. For once, I laughed with the kind of abandon that I had admired in those pretty girls in my high school class, the ones who were effortlessly unselfconscious.

I was finally self-sufficient. After years of bad relationships and bad roommates, I was living on my own and taking care of myself. I didn't need anyone. I had my friends and I had this moment and that was all I needed. I was never more independent in my life.

I met Him the next day.

When I think about my best friends, I remember that moment, that singularity. I remember the feeling of control and independence and I connect that feeling to my time with them. They know me as that independent girl, they always have. They couldn't possibly know that, even though I felt wonderful that day, there was always something missing in my life. They couldn't know that behind the bravado was a girl who was faltering under the weight of her independence. They have never seen the vulnerable girl that I am with Him, the little girl that he takes care of.

So when I spend time with Him and with my friends, there are always problems. I forget my place and my submission starts to fade into the background. The cognitive dissonance between the independent girl that I portray to the outside world and the vulnerable girl I truly am becomes too loud for me to bear. He reminds me of his ownership, often cruelly, during these times but that only makes me more confused. I don't know who to be. I don't know who I am.

I don't want to stop seeing my friends because I fuck up every time I am around them. I am not willing to sacrifice what I think will be lifelong friendships because I am worried that I cannot submit and be the person that they have known. I have to find a solution to this problem, but that solution must put Him first and firmly establish that I am owned above all else. He expects that and I cannot disappoint him any more. My time with my friends is the last place where I have held onto my view of my independent self. It is the place that I hold onto it the strongest because that independence forms so much of the girl they know. If I can't let go of this, I will not have truly submitted to him. It is what is keeping me from moving forward. He is going to think up some strategies for dealing with this situation in the future because, as things stand, my balance between my friends and my submission is very badly off.

Icy

2008-07-31T12:30:00.001-04:00

I was chatting on the phone to him in the kitchen. I was making a drink, dropping ice cubes into a glass one by one. He heard the sound of the ice through the phone and asked what I was doing. When he heard that I had a tray of ice out, he made a thoughtful "hmmm..." sound. I could hear the wheels turning in his head.

"What are you wearing?," he asked suddenly. I told him that I was wearing shortie pajamas, and he made me strip down to nothing while I stood there in the kitchen. "Take a piece of ice and put it in your mouth. Let me hear you suck on it, " he instructed. I lapped at the ice. "Smooth down one end of the cube in your mouth."

I looked around me, wondering what the neighbors could see through the window, if anything. Would a naked girl sucking on ice strike them as strange?

He continued: "Spread your pussy open with one hand and touch the ice to your clit with the other...don't take it off until I say so."

I took a deep breath and paused.

"I'm waiting," he growled.

I touched the ice to my clit and immediately cried out. The cold, hard pain was much more intense than I thought it would be. It burned my sensitive, exposed skin and I wanted to pull the ice away immediately.

"Keep the ice there until I say, Kitten," he urged over my cries. I held the ice, held it, longer than I thought I could, before he let me take my hand away.

"Did that hurt, Kitten," he cooed, as if he didn't make it hurt in the first place. He was sympathizing with me over pain that he had caused. But I was so relieved that he had let me take the ice off of my clit and that the feeling was returning to my pussy that I didn't notice.

As soon as my whimpers of pain subsided, he spoke again with that hard tone in his voice. "Put it back on your clit, now Kitten." I whined, but complied, crying as the pain burned icy-hot on my pussy.

He made me do it over and over again, until my legs were shaking as I tried to remain standing in the kitchen. He even made me touch the ice to my asshole, making me shudder and sob from the sensation. But I did it. I didn't even think about disobeying, although I could have. I could have said no, I won't hurt myself for your sick amusement, I won't get you hard with my cries of pain.

An hour later, after he let me come hard, kneeling in the puddle of water on the kitchen floor, I thought about why I did exactly what he wanted me to do. I thought about the feeling of his hand over mine as I moved the ice toward me, and his hand on my neck as he stood behind me while I writhed in pain. I was struck by how he seemed to be there with me throughout the entire experience, whispering in my ear and requiring my compliance with his very presence.

But he wasn't there, and he couldn't have hurt me if I didn't comply. And he wouldn't even have known if I didn't comply but pretended that I did. But none of those options crossed my mind. In the moment, I did something that hurt me very badly and made me extremely uncomfortable just because I thought I had to.

He reprogrammed me. He rewired me. He's inside my mind now. What else could he make me do, now that I'm like this?