This is a picture I took of my “cuck boxes”. For those who are unaware- these are boxes full of a collection I keep of mementos from all of my cuckings. Well, almost all- there have been a few times where he couldn’t bring anything home for me for whatever reason, and in the cases of “repeat cuckings”, I don’t always have something for every single time. But mostly, it’s complete. The boxes hold everything from used condoms and wrappers, to soda cans, swiped cds, hair ties, necklaces, cell phone pics, audio recordings etc. Everything is labled with a date and a name. It is my way of cataloging my humiliation (well… and this blog lol). I started it on my second cucking, while he was out fucking her and I was home alone feeling apprehensive and at a loss for what to do. While he was gone, I got the first box prepared and decorated. Anyway, I just thought you all might find it interesting, weird, cool, disturbing… whatever. I suppose it is all of those. I need to go take a shower, but later I will update the blog on Steve’s time earlier with J. Tonight he is having K over here at 11. Eek! That bitch is going to be in the house!!!
Our evening got rolling at around 10:30 pm when the perky, little 18 year old clerk arrived at our home. We will call her “with a Y”. Steve fucked her twice in the living room while I stayed closed away in our bedroom with a vibrator and my thoughts. Within a half hour I was hearing her moans and due to an inadvertent vibrator accident, she was hearing what could practically have been mistaken for a chainsaw- were she not aware of exactly where I was and what I was doing. I knew the second the damn thing revved that I had been heard- it could not have possibly been missed. I felt my cheeks redden in humiliation, and as one lone tear slid down the right side of my face, I came hard. An hour and a half later when I awoke from my adderall-tinted-speed-nap she was still out there, having stayed for round two with Steve. She finally left around 1 am.
For the past couple of hours, Steve, Heidi & I have been plotting and planning an encounter that we all know will wreck my mind. My old nemesis, “K” (ironically, a manager at the same store that the clerk came from) will be getting an unexpected visit soon from Steve. The intensely hateful, bitchy cunt who is 15 years my senior will be sucking him off on her knees in the backroom of the store shortly… she just does not yet know she is on the menu of my adored preditor. Understand readers that this woman and him have had an adversarial relationship (at it’s kindest) that has spanned nearly a year and a half. She hates him, but can’t help wanting to fuck him despite the way he has treated her which is with about the same concern, care, and appreciation as a used condom found on the city street. He hates her back, but their chemistry is immeasurable and and she comes with the added bonus of being extremely distressing to me due to the fact that I know, because he has told me, and she knows because he has told her- that despite her years on me, her cunt is distinctively tighter and more pleasurable to him than mine and the woman fucks like a crazed maniac, which actually she kind of is… but that’s beside the point.
So, he has just left the house to go take back what he discarded last May like a snotty tissue. She has been wanting him back for months and tonight is her night. Except for one thing… she adamently does not suck cock… but tonight she will get on her knees and take a face fucking if she wants to crawl back into his good graces. He has taken with him one of my thank you cards, for this special occasion… partly to make her status as “prey” well noted. This is no accident, no chance encounter. Tonight she is the hunted.
Myself… well, I am the forsaken. I am the cuckquean. I am the pathetic Bitch, left home with a hot cunt and “do not touch” instructions. When he comes back, I will be allowed to play with Heidi who will tear apart what precious little self worth I have left on this night, at 3 am. Twice cucked, but not fucked. For in times like these, even my mouth is useless to him… the only thing I have to offer is my pain. That will become his next hard-on which I gather will be used later around lunch time. He intimates that he has a date, but I have not been told with who, or where. I also have not asked, and won’t. But that’s later.
Now, I wait for him to return so I can hurt for him as he tells me how he shot his load in her mouth, or in her face and Heidi reminds me of what a failure I am because I cannot get him going. Not in times like these. I cannot get him off… I am therefore unworthy of any consideration on his part to schedule fucking me into his day’s plans. I am the inferior and he will make sure I know that to the deepest parts of my heart over the next 3 days. Come Sunday night, I will be lucky if I’m not sobbing and in an emotional shock from the sheer brutality of the hard core cucking I am receiving.
Oh. And, by the way. I think he is cheating on me too. I have begun to think this is all a diversion from the real ouchie. Smoke and mirrors- redirection of the eye. But though I suspect that- I am still too fucking gullible, and too fucking easily distracted by my own cunt to catch him. He truly has a free pass for life. I could never stop him, because fuck- I could never even manage to catch him if he didn’t choose to tell me. Once a cheater, always a cheater. So true.
Last night was peaceful and relaxed; we had a nice family dinner, our older children willingly shared the details of their day with us, our three-year old twins played with the dogs while laughing happily - and in the middle of all this magic our oldest son, who is away at college, actually called his family … Evening Perfection.
Later, after reading bedtime stories to my twins, I decided that a bubble bath was in order. P was in his office working and the house was quiet and calm – the evening had made me reflective and the quiet stillness in the house lent itself to contemplation and relaxation. I was well inside myself when I became aware that P had joined me in the bubbles. Without speaking a word he gently washed my hair and then pulled me back so I was resting against his chest; we sat like that for a long, long time …
Finally, when we had exhausted all of the hot water, he got out of the tub and offered his hand to help me do the same – then he wrapped me in a towel and carried me to our bed … a dreamy and romantic moment that was the ultimate capstone to the evening that had been.
I didn’t notice the hairbrush until it was in his hand … and this put an abrupt end to my silent reverie.
I wanted the spanking, desperately, but I was afraid too. Not of the brush and the pain, that isn’t how masochism works; I was afraid that P would be unable to please me (hurt me enough) and that my disappointment would show, this causing him immeasurable emotional torment and undoing months of healing …
When I started to say, “just make love to me, you don’t have to hurt me – I want you even without the pain,” he held up his hand to silence me – a first. And I actually kept myself from speaking further - another first.
What followed was the hardest spanking he has ever given me. He ignored my cries, my pleas, and even my tears. And when it was over, he held me for several long minutes – gently stroking my hair and whispering how much he loves me … and then he took me - without even stopping to consider that I might not want him inside of me.
This morning it all seems like a dream, like it happened to someone else. But I’m happy and calm so I know I must have been there …
We fell asleep without talking, and this morning was hectic so I didn’t have the chance to say anything but, “Thank you for last night.” This got me a smile, a kiss on the cheek, and a gentle pat to my very tender bottom as he walked out the door for work …
But knowing P as I do, knowing who he is and where he’s from, I also know that last night couldn’t have been easy for him. And through my happiness I find myself very concerned with his emotional state of being as he goes about the business of the morning while remembering the events of last night …
I don’t want to change him. I don’t want him ever to be something or someone he is not …
But last night awakened my awareness of who I am and what I need …
This was the first time either of us had a chance to enjoy a cage, and it was beyond any expectations we might have had before. I met the host in the other room, and he was happy to give me a tour of his place. I think he pointed to some handmade furniture before saying the word “cage,” but “cage” is really all we heard him say. I looked at you with a smile. You were wide-eyed with curiosity, and beaming with delight, as we walked from one room to the next. My eyes then locked onto the white metal gate behind which was enough space for someone of any height to stand comfortably. The host opened the latch of the cage door, and stepped out of the way.
As if some internal force had compelled you to move from my side to within the cage, immediately, you slipped off your shoes, and before I realized what had happened, you were inside, and I was latching the gate closed behind you. Your eyes were fixed onto me at all times, as if your gaze were an emotional tether. Yet with a blink, your expression became one of utter submission, eyes cast downward. A slight shudder revealed your feeling of being on display for all to see. You were removed from the rest of us, isolated within the confines of the bars and wood. The girl in the cage. The featured exhibit. It seemed to suit you profoundly, for it touched my heart and fulfilled what was certainly a frequently discussed fantasy of mine. Openly and proudly, here you were, displayed as the girl who belongs to Me.
I believe people were occupying the bed and the bench in two of the corners of the room, but I didn’t take much notice of them before. Once you were in your place, I visually examined our surroundings. To my right through an open door was a plain tiled bathroom with two sinks. The entire wall to the left of the cage was likely enclosing shelves full of sadistic and sensual toys of all kinds. Past that, was a low couch presently occupied by three people, limbs intertwined, bruised, marked and glowing from whatever was their intense activity that transpired just before. In the corner opposite where we were was a bed with a dark bedspread over it. And in the corner near the door where we came in was a cross, an “X” of thick wood, with cuffs dangling from each extension.
“Daddy?” I turned to you when you spoke, and smiled into your big eyes. You tipped your head forward in the most precious way, making your eyes look bigger yet. I brushed hair from your face and put it behind your ear delicately, while you peered out from behind your blonde bangs. I melt when I hear the affectionate name you use for me, so I always do whatever I can to encourage you to stay in your “babygirl” headspace. When you knew by my expression that you had my attention, you asked permission to speak.
“What is it, babygirl?”
In a whisper, you spoke sweetly. “Daddy, some guests at the party came over to the cage and suggested that I had far too many clothes on. One nice Miss said my beautiful breasts and nipples should be on display, for everyone to see.” But even while I listened, I was already reaching into the cage, and began to unzip your sweater.
I said nothing. You knew already, and without hesitation you finished unzipping your short sweater, exposing the tops of your huge mounds, barely contained in your bra. I had one arm in the cage, my fingers probing and squeezing your luscious breasts, one then the other. I slipped my fingers over the material and started to pull it down. I began to ask you how you felt about it, but your hand was pulling down the other side of your top already, and both your breasts burst forward as if to escape to freedom. With both bare breasts hanging voluptuously in front of me, you were safe, behind the metal bars, and mine were the only hands that reached through. I had been looking fixedly into your eyes until you drifted into the comfort of your subspace, and shut them. I manipulated your nipples until they each stood at attention, and rubbed them, pinching each of them, squeezing progressively harder until I got a gasp out of you each time. Then squeezed your fleshy tits roughly with both hands like I was kneading dough, and you grimaced slightly, silently, without protest and kept your eyes closed.
I felt possessive. I smiled at others who stepped up to talk with me. Only then did I stop squeezing your tits, but I kept one hand gently busy with your nipples as I visited with admirers. People were trickling into the room to see how the new kinksters were doing, and they found us here at the cage in our own little world. Later, I asked you about your liberating moments in the cage. “I didn’t feel ashamed or embarrassed, at all!” you said brightly. “In fact, I really did feel liberated. I felt magnificent inside! I felt I was in a place of complete and utter submission. Although I was in a room full of strangers, and fully on display, I felt safe. I felt good. I knew Daddy was there to protect me.”
Another admiring Dom at the party had with him a black and orange plastic shock toy that he was touching with his hand, making sparks and snapping sounds. He walked up and told me it was a Japanese party favor and I believed him. I don’t care where it came from, I wanted one for myself just as soon as I could find one. He was watching you in your cage, with a slight smile, and asked me if he could shock you with this new toy. Hearing this, your eyes opened with a somewhat nervous expression, but after getting a look at what we were talking about, you averted your eyes downwards and looked like you were trying to retreat, and become small. I quite liked the idea, so I told him to touch my forearm with the toy, and it shocked me. Then I took it from him and tried it for myself, touching the back of my hand with it. I enjoyed it, I smiled, and I saw you looking bashfully up at me while I made it snap against my own skin. You watched me and appeared to become comfortable that the toy was in my hands. Noticing this, it prompted me to turn to say loud enough for you to hear, handing the toy back, “Go ahead. Use it on her. Not on the face though.”
You chirped in shock, just at the thought of someone else touching you with that. I was enjoying your reaction, but I made sure to catch your eyes with mine, and you knew what I wanted. “Babygirl, this is Andrew. Be a good girl and let him play.” I stepped back without waiting for a response, and he took his place just outside the cage, reaching inside toward you with the toy. There you stood, helplessly, and suddenly you were shocked with a snap. First on your arm, just for you to feel the sensation. But next, he touched the flesh of your tit with it, and waited just a moment, and then touched your nipple. I laughed silently when you popped up with a chirp.
I watched you stand in your cage obediently enduring the shocks a few times, but I became aroused from watching and so I pressed up to the cage and retrieved the toy from the Dom. I enjoyed the reaction I got when I tapped it to your skin and a spark snapped out to you. I repeated this along your stomach and your ribs, and frequently on your tits, but the real joy was when I touched your nipple with it and you let out a screech!
I gave you a rest, and turned to chat with the Dom for a little while and drifted into the middle of the room away from the cage, where you were collecting admirers and conversations. One boy stopped by and took quite an interest in you through the cage. I saw you shift as he kept staring at your breasts, but he was being very polite. In a moment, he came up to me because you asked him to get my attention, and I moved back over to you. “Daddy?” you whispered, “Daddy, I beg you, please may I get out now?” I touched your head and asked why. “Daddy I’m having trouble breathing, and I’m getting so hot and dizzy.” I smiled at you, knowing your limit, and opened the latch and held your hand tightly as you stepped out of the confined place, now free once again.
“What a good girl you are.” Hugging, I kissed your head as you clung to me. Keeping my tight embrace with an arm, I reached for a misty bottle of water and wet your forehead with the cool condensation, then I opened it to offer you a sip. We stood there a long time embracing. “Shhh, babygirl. Everything’s going to be okay. You are with Daddy, and you’re in the perfect place, right here where you belong.” It felt good as you squeezed tighter than before, and I knew that our bond had grown closer from the experience.
I can’t really know how long we stood there outside the cage. But eventually, we inched toward the door, and joined the group in the next room. A girl was getting spanked, and it looked like she had been hooked to the wall for quite a while, judging by how purple her ass was getting. “What nice stripes on her, babygirl!” I said to you with a tone you understood well, and wrapping your arms around my waist tightly, you pushed your face into my chest to hide from the idea.
~:~ ~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~ ~:~
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/// (c) Master Zoomer 2010
/// “You in the Cage”
/// March 16, 2010
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Hello and welcome to our Blog. We will be updating this soon but in the mean time please check out our website and clip store by visiting www.eyesonfetish.com
There are lot’s of video clips in the following genre’s
Tickling, tickling male, tickling female, bondage, fingering, forced orgasms, foot worship, foot domination, female solo masturbation, Girl on Girl, Older male/ younger female, showing and shaving, finger brushing, POV BJ, HJ ,pussy eating, Gyno cam, huge labia, small tits, face stuffing, hair coloring, fingernail polishing, toenail polishing, erotic sensual massage, and many more!
Comic-Con girls, they are a Thing from Way Back. Coupla O.G.’s right here! Love it!
Via comically vintage on the tumblr, originally posted by Geek Orthodox on the blogger.
Dig that mask on Superman. I’m feeling this. You?
I’ve not been much great shakes at posting lately. Sorry. Events of the past five or six days have been consuming and this week I’ve had a lot on my mindgrapes. Setting off soosh bombasticos with Panda tonight at Miki. Catch you on the flip!
Defendants Motion to Compel Discovery; Gov’t Replies: “Talk to the Hand”
It must be getting closer to May. Hardly a day passes without another shower of paper in the Robert Wone Case.
On Monday things got off to a big, fat 172-page start with the defense’s motion to compel outstanding discovery. If it seems like we’ve been here before, that’s because we have.
True to past form, the defendant’s main complaint is again that the government has not complied with court orders to produce discoverable material to the defense. Their concerns are many.
To start, they are concerned about that hair and fiber analysis done by the government’s expert Douglas Deedrick, and that they don’t have his methodology so as to be able to challenge it.
On the finger print issue, they claim that an unidentified palm print was found in the room where Robert’s body was discovered by the defendants. They want to know where it was found in the room, and testing that was done on it. They have requested this information on numerous occasions. It gets interesting here because the defense is claiming the government said it did not belong to the defendants or Robert Wone. However, the government says in its own filing that defendant Victor Zaborsky can not be ruled out.
More compelling reading, after the jump.
The defense also wants to know the status of the remainder of the biological samples such as heart blood, urine, bile, vitreous, liver, brain and gastric samples.
They’re particularly harsh on the government’s treatment of the radio runs, and they claim that prosecution reluctance on this particular item is “contrary’ to the established practice of the United States Attorney’s office. The radio runs include communications of the EMT’s who transported Robert’s body to George Washington hospital. They are important to the case because if it is disclosed that Robert was subjected to life saving interventions then this could offer a medical explanation for the puncture wounds.
We also learn that the defense has not seen the unredacted portion of notes from one of the police officer’s on scene. The officer in question appears to be Diane Durham, who surprisingly heard a different story from Joe about where Robert’s body was found.
Most interestingly, we learn that in 2007 Detectives Bryan Waid and Danny Whalen went to the Swann Street residence and talked to Dylan Ward without counsel present. The defense is demanding any notes from that discussion be turned over.
On Tuesday, the government shot back with an 85 page filing articulating why they are opposed to turning over further discovery, chiefly of which is that they have met all their obligations pursuant to Rule 16 (a) (1) (E).
Then they filed an additional discovery document, maybe because they didn’t want to get on the bad side of Judge Lynn Liebowitz at Friday’s status hearing.
It filled out many of the questions that defendants were requesting about expert witness disclosures. They intend to have Dr. John Yosaitis testify about succinyolcholine and IM injections. Even though nothing has been found yet, it looks like the government is pushing forward on the paralytic drug angle through expert testimony.
Another interesting tidbit is James Plant, the government’s S&M expert. While not exactly possessing a C.V. in bondage, we learn that Plant has led many S&M groups, has extensive experience with S&M practices and has attended many popular S&M events such as DC’s Mid-Atlantic Leather weekend.
They also disclose that they intend to introduce photographs of “certain defendants” using the S&M apparatus to show their familiarity with the tools of the trade. Not just one or two photos, but upward of 23. No wonder they need Mr. Plant’s services.
Let’s hope nobody’s hair was messed up when these photos were taken. We wouldn’t want anyone to get a bad impression.
I found this fantastic essay, which deals with the perceptions of BDSM both between others in the scene, as well as one’s own perception of their activities. The insight is brilliant. I’ll be back after the essay.
“Not all BDSM is dominance and submission
by Patti (Fetlife) 3 months ago
In a recent discussion on a completely different topic, a sub-thread popped up on a subject that’s near and dear to my heart. I thought it deserved a thread of its own, so I’m starting one.
Here are some quotes from the original discussion. Please don’t be offended if I’ve included your quote here. I do it merely for purposes of illustration, and with no degree of ill will or malice.
>My initial idea was/is to try bottoming [...] At this point, however, I am re-considering that notion. I have ZERO interest in subbing/servitude
>Bottoming” implies submitting
>All bottoming is, FOR THAT MOMENT, submitting. Submission is more than bottoming, true. Bottoming is being THE submissive for that scene. Period.
>I can see how, if a person (normally a dominant in our usage) wanted masochism, an endorphine thrill, they could have their boy/girl/bottom/submissive/slave/SO, whatever, or anyone else, spank them… thus ‘topping from the bottom’… ‘legitimately’, LOL, but it is still ’submitting’ to the spanking, the ACT, and that is the absolute to which I refer. A person ON ‘the bottom’ ’submits’, to it OR ‘Tops from the bottom’ in some degree.
>I see the key fetish in BDSM, the one that ties us all together as being the power exchange
>Without a power exchange dynamic, it is just kinky sex. It is the need to -have- or -give up- power that sets us apart.
From where I sit, each and every one of those things is false.
The term BDSM is a big umbrella. It covers a lot of activities that used to be addressed with their own acronyms– Bondage and Discipline (e.g. Harmony softcore bondage magazines), Dominance and Submission (playing with power exchange and power dynamics), and Sadism and Masochism (playing with pain and sensation.) You can also overlay Slave and Master onto the SM, or just take the B for bondage without the D. The term also wraps itself around lots of things that don’t really fit into the alphabet soup, such as human animal play, some fetishism, some body modification, self-bondage, ageplay, and quite a few other things. It’s really pretty much a catch-all term for a big chunk of alternative eroticism.
It’s entirely possible to do BDSM play without any sort of dominance, submission, or power exchange being involved. It’s quite possible to mix dominance and submission with pretty much any BDSM activity, of course, but doing so is far from mandatory. While many people do choose to do power exchange as part of BDSM, there are plenty of people in the scene who do not do so and the people who do play with power don’t do it in all of their scenes. Their way of playing is just as valid as any other, and they are equal participants and members of the community.
When I first came into the leather community a couple of decades ago, the words top and bottom were the catch-all terms for giver and receiver, or what a friend of mine referred to as pitcher and catcher. This seemed to work really well, as they fairly clearly described the roles without ascribing any particular motivations or orientations to the participants. Over the years, and for reasons that I won’t elaborate on here, the catch-all terms became dom and sub. This is an unfortunate linguistic shift, as it now colors the participants in any scene with roles and motivations that may not actually exist.
It’s even more unfortunate, as it suggests that all of BDSM involves dominance and submission. It leads people to believe that all bottoms are submissive and all tops dominant, and that in order to be a top/bottom one must also be dominant/submissive. This does a terrible disservice to people who are interested in some aspects of BDSM play but have no particular affinity for power exchange, as it leads them to try to assume roles that do not fit. This can be awkward, annoying, or even damaging to the player who is not oriented toward power exchange, but feels that they must pretend to be in order to be a part of the BDSM community. It is especially dangerous for newcomers who lack the experience to see the full rainbow of BDSM diversity.
We all tend to view the world through the lens of our personal experience. If I see a flogging scene in the dungeon, I will generally perceive it as an SM scene. If a DS-centric person sees the same scene, they will probably perceive it as a scene involving power exchange. From the outside, it may be difficult or impossible to tell whether there is a power dynamic going on, but if you think of BDSM primarily as power exchange you will probably see dominance and submission even where none exists.
The belief that all BDSM is DS is my hot button, and I have made it my personal crusade to correct this misconception whenever I encounter it. People often ask me why I care so much, or why I feel so strongly about this. That’s easy. When I first came into the community, I was around people who believed that DS was an integral part of what we did. I was drawn to bottoming, and I wanted to experience the intensity of spanking, whipping, and other SM play. My desire was very strong, and I was willing to do what I had to in order to fulfill my needs. Unfortunately, much of what I had to do involved shoehorning myself into a submissive role for which I was ill-suited, and I was profoundly unhappy doing so. I spent quite a bit of time suffering through this unhappiness in an attempt to find what I needed, and more than once I was on the edge of leaving the community in frustration.
I eventually met up with a merry band of sadomasochists who showed me what I was missing, and taught me that I could be myself and find what I needed without having to fake something that was contrary to my nature. I learned that top and bottom could be collaborators and co-conspirators who met as equals in the dungeon and shared equally in the journey.
The misconception that all BDSM involves dominance and submission made me extremely miserable, and I wish that I had learned earlier that I could be myself and still find what I needed. I speak up on this topic because I don’t want anyone else to go through the same agony that I did– I’d much rather have them find the joyful agony that they seek. While some people may perceive my arguments as linguistic hair-splitting, for me it’s an educational mission of truth and happiness. If just one person reads my discussions and learns that they don’t have to pretend to be dominant or submissive, it will have been worth it to me.
Over the years, I’ve had a surprising number of people tell me that I’m wrong, and that what I’m doing really does involve dominance and submission. If you’d like to well and truly infuriate me, I highly recommend this technique. Nobody but me is inside my head, and nobody is closer to my thoughts and emotions than I am. When you tell me that what I’m doing is DS, you undermine and invalidate my entire experience of BDSM. It’s almost certain that the flavor of BDSM you do is different from the flavor of BDSM that I do, but I would never deign to judge your play or question your truth. Yet, for some reason, DS practitioners often feel the need to do that to non-DS players. The arrogance of this is truly stunning.
There are an infinite number of ways to do BDSM. None of them is deeper, kinkier, more evolved, or otherwise superior to any other way of doing BDSM. There’s no hierarchy of kink, no grade levels, no leather evolutionary path. There are just different flavors of BDSM, each custom-tailored to the individuals involved.
Not all BDSM involves bondage, and that’s OK. Not all BDSM involves sadism and masochism, and that’s OK. Finally, not all BDSM involves dominance and submission. That, too, is OK. Well, it’s more than OK– if egalitarian BDSM play is your kink, it can be truly glorious.”
Thank you to Patti for permission to reprint this here.
As I have stated before, perception (both public and private) is very important within, and for, the community. I suppose it’s important to the vanilla population as well, but most people don’t think vanilla is unusual or deviant. The terms that we use for one another, whether it of how we play or how we identify, define us in a very tangible way. The problem with this is that I may define myself as one thing (based on my perception), but the observer filters that definition through their own experience and beliefs, sees me a different way.
Patti’s point about someone else defining her play invalidating her experience is extremely insightful and valid. Our experiences, in play and in life, are enriched by our own interpretations of their meaning. Any meaning assigned from outside devalues, and lessens our empiricism. I can only experience and assign meaning to my own activities, just as you can only experience and assign meaning to yours. The only way we experience each other is through observation and our own thoughts and beliefs.
Perhaps there needs to be some deeper understanding of, and maybe curiosity about, what our titles mean to us, as opposed to blind obedience to a “commonly” accepted meaning. After all who’s interpretation became the accepted one?
We deal enough with the vanilla world wondering why we have come to this lifestyle, and what we get from it. Let’s not detract from our experiences by defining someone else.
We have all come to play, let me worry about what my interactions mean to me.
In the words of Inigo Montoya (Princess Bride) “You keep saying that word, I do not think it means what you think it means.”
I am a breast man, I love the feel of big plump heavy tits in my hands and full round nipples in my mouth. What makes a busty girl so sexy is that she knows how much of a sexual attraction those big boobs are for us men. However, some girls use that too much to their advantage, wearing low cut tops in bars so that they are served first, or flaunting them at work to be treated more leniently by their male bosses. Then what better way to teach these harlots, than to punish them severely, on the very parts of their bodies that they are so proud of?
This voluptuous girl has her nipples yanked and her breasts tortured to keep her in line. If I was the man in that picture, I would have ended it with a forced tit wank and shooting my cum all over her sore boobs. But that’s just me.
Here’s some pictures of Master I’ve been meaning to post. The last one was from when he was sick, so he was laying on the couch with Samantha. ^^ I just love these pics, I took them all the same weekend. )
Anyway! I didn’t make an entry yesterday. To be honest, turning the computer on just seemed like such a chore, that I opted out of it. I think I’ll probably post less on the weekend, and stick to writing on the week. Not that I’m cutting weekend posts out altogether, just that I’ll probably write a lot less on the weekends. So don’t worry if I don’t post on the weekend. I’m OK. I think the thing is, that I love my job. I do! But sitting on the computer for a hours on end makes me want to LEAVE the computer when I’m not working. I still have Minerva though, so I can tweet.. But when I’m off the computer, I generally WANT to be off the computer, if that makes any kind of sense.
Yesterday was fun! The present I bought Master for Valentine’s Day arrived, and it was 40 feet of rope from www.twistedmonk.com I had thought it might arrive in time for Valentine’s day, but that’s OKAY. I told him what his present was on V-day, and I told him when I thought it would arrive. He was thrilled.
We haven’t had any actual ”rope” in a while now. We used to have a whole mess of it, but during one of our moves, a box of lingerie and ropes went missing. Yeah. We were both pissed at the time, but we hadn’t gone about replacing it. We kept talking about it, but we just never did. We had so many restraints, it didn’t seem to be a big issue. Well, now that we have more, we’re so glad! Master has been reviewing knots all weekend, and he has been really enjoying the rope. We even played one of my favorite games with it! That is, he ties me up, and lets me see if I can escape! I escaped all but once. So, Faete, 6, Master 1. It was fun though, and it helped him learn which knots he needs to “tighten up” so to speak, and which ties I can easily escape from. I’m pretty flexible, so in his defense, he is already at a disadvantage.
Master was feeling a bit adventurey yesterday, so we wound up piling into the car and heading out towards the mountains looking for a place to take a couple pictures. We found a place called “dinosaur ridge”. It was really kind of cool, and I wish I could figure out what I’d done with the camera, because we got pictures which I had planned to post. Oh well. I’ll post them tomorrow.
Today, I’m taking a mental health day to just rest and relax a bit before my dental exam tonight. ( I’ve had too many bad experiences with various dentists to not be a *bit* apprehensive. It sucks. I just hope tonight goes well. It’s just a cleaning, so nothing is going to really happen, but I will be making plans to come back to get some cavities filled (I think I have four), and one of my teeth needs a cap. I just want to get it done.
The past week around our happy home has been something like some of the more surreal scenes in “Apocalypse Now”. Most people would consider this to be a bad thing. I on the other hand, consider this part of the natural purging of the gray matter for the three of us that has to occur from time to time. Believe it or not, it may be the only sort thing that keeps me and my girls out of jail or the state nuthouse.
With these strange periods of introspection (and sometimes flat-out violence) it became clear that some things within and without our dynamic were in need of changes. So where and how do you find new inspiration for a trio of deviants who need their brains and groins tuned up?
Jenn, the pop culture junkie had been getting wet in the panties for some time over the Tiger Woods sex scandal. She is just loves it when a celebrity gets caught cheating. And fuck, Tiger almost has my kinda numbers. Almost.
Anyway, the exquisite agony of Elin had set in motion the gears of scheming and nerve stripping that are the lovely natural talent of my twin. Besides, Heidi like myself, bores easily and delights in new ways to explore the dark edges of the human mind.
Now to announce the new game! First, let me point out though- I firmly believe the reason our lifestyle has survived (knock on my skull)– is careful planning. Each cucking and aftermath needs to have a point. A sharp one. If you bang someone just to show you can or because you are test driving new models looking for a trade-in…Well, you’re an asshole.
New game one: Jenn no longer will have any knowledge of my relationships outside of the house and will not be given any say in the matter. Only suspicion, paranoia and perhaps a picture shown to her by Heidi during a scene could give her introduction to a new playmate. That, or maybe the taste of another woman on my cock when she goes down on me. (I’m never careless, the game is supposed to hurt.)
As for the women. A select list of names has been assembled by Heidi and I out of our slave’s weakest moment’s. These are women from the past ten year’s of life. People that have we have worked with, been friends with, people from online and off. These are to be indefinite affairs, not one time hook-ups. These are to be the women she fears, respects, trusts, and/or hates…. then finds they messing with me behind her back. This is betrayal and pain by design.
Had a good weekend. Had to move and into a better place for my family and myself. Got rid of the loser I was with and have moved on.
Had a great time with several of my clients over the weekend and I love happy subs/clients. Knowing that they are feeling spent and rubber legged due to their session with me is good.
I am sure in time more of you will know of my reputation and session experiences.
So I have a kick-ass therapist. I know for sure we are doing the whole therapy thing right because I totally have that transference thing going on with her. Yeah, yeah, I know she’s human, but don’t remind me. Clearly she has some extrasensory ability to peer into my soul and understand precisely what is going on in there even when I don’t. She gives me just the right amount of tough love exactly when I need it. And we always seem to end up discussing the things I needed to discuss during any given session. No, I don’t think she walks on water, but I’m pretty sure I’ve seen her hover just a bit.
Anyway, during my most recent therapy session, we discussed my little baby blog here; what I want from it, what I hope for it, what it gives me. (Wow, I must be a writer if I’m starting to refer to my work as my “baby”.) Overworked metaphor aside, it is a lot like the parenting process. Its been painful in some ways getting it off the ground, and there are days when its down right intimidating and overwhelming. I overanazlyze what I want to say way before my fingers hit the keyboard, and I constantly worry about how my chosen words will affect it’s growth. I want to find just the right balance of being true to myself while still providing what it needs to grow organically on it’s own.
One of the questions I keep coming back to is exactly WHO my intended audience is… Who the hell is gonna read this thing anyway? I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I started a blog because I wanted a readership. A following. A group of readers out there somewhere with whom I could have actual intellectual discourse about the issues that really touch my life. To that end, I am aiming for brutal honesty. After all, what do I have to hide from you, my invisible intendeds? You don’t know me. I don’t have to impress you. You can judge me all you want and frankly I won’t give a flying fuck. So I might as well put it all out there, right?
There’s a lot to put out. As I already said, my posts are likely to range anywhere from the frustrations of attachment parenting and raising a spirited child, to therapy and recovering from PTSD and ritual abuse, to explicit talk about sexuality, BDSM, and sadomasochism. I’m a verbal/written processor – the more I can hear and see my thoughts, the better I understand myself, my issues, the world. And the more I can bounce ideas off of other people, the better it works.
Enter one small problem: I don’t exist in a vacuum. Other people touch my life. My daughter, my lovers, my wife, my friends. And believe me, I have something to say about each and every one of them. My loves know I am writing a blog, and they’ve also been warned that honesty is the rule, and it is on them to decide if they really want to view what I write. Boundary set. But what about acquaintances? Friends of friends? The random co-worker from one of my loves jobs that stumbles upon my blog in a Google search? Where is the line between letting it all hang out there, and protecting the privacy and feelings of those in my life?
I don’t have easy answers for this one. I suspect I will err on the side of risk and try to do very little self-editing, but it will never gone from the back of my mind. I’m blogging in order to reach out and find others who can relate. To set an example that people like me can indeed be open with and unashamed of their lives. Self-censorship will just make that bridge harder to cross.
So here’s to you my intendeds. I’m willing to risk a lot to reach out to you; here’s hoping you reach back someday.
One of the goals on my day zero project list was to not go online for one whole weekend. Seriously, you guys – it was MUCH harder than I thought it would be. I made it though! I found other ways to fill the internet void though, and I wound up getting a lot done on my day zero list. ^^
One of the things I checked off this morning when I logged into my day zero project list was “stop biting my nails”. It has been about three weeks now since I’ve bitten my nails. They’re still really short, I’ve been clipping them with nail clippers, but Master doesn’t care how long they are as long as they are not in my mouth. Woot. Good to get another thing checked off.
Ooh, and we bought a mini trampoline. I’ve been wanting one for years. I’ve been *dying* for a giant lawn-sized trampoline, but alas, we have no place to put it. Master promised me that someday when we get a house we’ll get one. In the meantime, for the last few years *EVERY* time we go by one in the store, I mew and give Master the sad eyes. This past sunday we decided that I could get one, so long as I put the money back in the bank account when I get paid next week. Go figure, we get to the store, and it’s the first time we go that they are out of stock! When we got home though, Master ordered online for me, so hopefully it’ll get here soon. Bouncin’ is what kitties do best. lol.
My Master is sillier than yours! *Laughs* Ok, the other day I was cleaning up the apartment, and I unpacked a box with a TON of play-do in it. I buy it for Master every year at christmas, because he says it is a tradition to get it in your stocking. I mentioned to him that I never see him use it, and this is how I wound up a couple hours later:
I was blindfolded, ball gagged, and tied up – so I had no idea at all what was going on until later when he showed me the pictures he took. lol. He started off blowing bubbles on me, and I had no idea what they were until I started to smell grape, and I figured it out. Ooh, it sounds silly (because it is!) but I hated thoes cold wet bubbles on my nipples. lol. When I felt him pounding my ribs with something cold I had NO idea what it was, but after a few minutes, I figured it out because I could smell the play dough. lol. There was a lot more going on, but you know me. I remember what was in the pictures.
Super Bowl sunday was yesterday! I’m not a football fan by any means, but I actually had some fun! I usually watch the Super Bowl just to watch the commercials, and I walk away during the football. Master actually explained how to play to me, and we picked a random
Let me start by saying, I do like the male appendage, the cock. I enjoy it and it’s uses. It’s wonderful when it’s firmly in my hand and other places. I love what I’m able to make it do.
I mention this because for a little while now, I’ve been thinking about male chastity and those devices used for it. The thought does appeal to me. I like the idea of holding the key to his release. (Quite literately…in the sexual sense.) With my pet, now and then I do tell him/have him go for days at a time with no masturbating. When we are together, it is at my whim I tell him he could masturbate/cum or not. I would like to control him for longer periods of time. A device would allow me to do that. Not that I don’t trust my pet on his word alone not to cheat and touch himself. I do trust him. It’s just a little extra insurance. Plus, I do admit not just the power and control I have over him is a turn on, but also the little bit of suffering is too.
While we are on the subject of a suffering cock, it reminds me of something else I’ve started having an interest in. This would be CBT (Cock and Ball Torture). I wouldn’t say I’m a sadist. I suppose I like being a little sadistic once in a while. I like the bits of thuddy and stingy sensations I give during impact play with floggers, crop, cane, etc. I also sometimes like seeing how far I can push my play partner’s pain tolerances. (With their consent, of course.)
Only quite recently I’ve had the desire for CBT. It’s fascinating seeing clothes pins in that area and how many one can take. I also get a bit of a kick out of seeing a cock and balls tied up with string, twine and the like. With some hesitancy, pet has given his consent for me to do something on him. I just know want to think on what that something will be. Don’t worry pet. Won’t be anything hardcore……..the first time.
February’s here! A new month means new beginnings. I ended January on a good note. I submitted another story to my editor on Friday. So on top of the two new contracts I have three other stories out awaiting word.
I managed to write the synopsis for the Cougar Challenge. I’m going to tweak it a bit before submitting it for the others to check out. I’m always nervous when writing a synopsis. I loathe them. I’m better off just writing the darn story, but I want to make sure it fits what they’re looking for.
I’m busy working on Sliding Home an M/M story about a couple of baseball players. I’m enjoying writing this story, so it should go quickly. )
My newsletter went out today, with a brand new contest for subscribers only. If you’d like to sign up you can do so here:
authoramberskyze-subscribe@yahoogroups.com
Time for me to get busy with some editing and that article still needs to be written. Busy day! Oh and time to start planning a Valentine’s Day treat for the DH. Since we missed our anniversary on New Year’s Eve, we’re going to celebrate on Valentine’s Day.
I read and reread His ad. For some reason, the thought of enduring a bare-assed, over-the-knee spanking turned me on like nothing else. I decided to respond to His ad, I wanted to begin a dialog and see where this would go. I wanted to know more…my pussy was so freaking hot and wet…
All I could envision was going to a random office somewhere in one of those little office parks. It was a rainy day or like today, cold, wet and snowing…there was little to no traffic around. I pull into the parking lot and park in front of His office door. I took a deep breath and another quick look in the mirror to make sure everything was as it should look.
I hurried to the door of the office and opened the door. He had no receptionist, He was a one-man operation. I could hear Him in the other room, His inner, main office.
“Is that you Victoria?” He asked from the distance.
“Yes, yes, it is Victoria,” I replied. I took off my coat and put it on the reception chair nearest his main office door. He came to the inner office door and stood there.
“Come on in, my dear. It’s time for your session,” He told me. I left the coat on the chair and entered the inner office. He went and locked the door to the outside…locking me in. I was so sexually charged, so turned on…I could hardly stand there and wait on Him to return. I set my purse on one of the chairs in front of His massive oak desk. I stood there and waited for Him to join me. He came in and shut the inner office door behind Him. He touched my arm as He turned the other chair in front of His desk around to face me where I was standing.
“Stand right here, Victoria,” He instructed me. I turned more to face Him. “I see you’re wearing a nice dress as I requested. What about underneath the dress? Are you wearing the panties and thigh high hose I instructed you to wear?”
“Yes, Sir, I am,” I replied. He reached out and touched my arm, pulling me to Him. His fingers lingered at the hem of my dress.
“You know I’m going to check to see if you’re wearing specifically what I asked you to wear?” He half-asked, half told me.
“Yes, Sir, I know you will check to see if I did as I was told,” I replied. The fingers on His left hand lifted the hem of my dress exposing what was underneath. He studied the panties I had on…as well as the thigh highs. I could feel the wetness between my legs growing. I knew the crotch of my panties had to be soaked by now…I ached to have Him touch me, touch my pussy.
“Well, you got the thigh highs right, but these aren’t the panties I specifically instructed you to wear. What explanation do you have for me?” He insisted. I felt my face grow hot. I couldn’t have put on the wrong panties. He specifically told me He wanted me to wear the black, lace, silk, French cut panties…that’s what I had on.
“I don’t understand, Sir. You told me to wear the Black, lace, French…”
“No, I told you to wear the red ones. I gave you three pairs of panties exactly alike when we met for lunch and I told you that I would let you know what pair I wanted you to wear today. I specifically told you to wear the RED panties today,” He said with a very stern, almost fierce tone to His voice.
“Yes, Sir,” I said and started to tremble. What in the world? I wasn’t scared of this Man, I knew He had told me to wear the black panties, but now He had changed His mind and I was supposed to be wearing the red panties. Good grief, was there no pleasing this Man?
“You must suffer the punishment, dear Victoria, for not following my instructions explicitly. You realize you must make good on your transgression?” He asked.
“Yes, Sir,” I replied.
“Hold your dress up so I can take your panties off of you,” He instructed me. I took the hem of my dress, holding it up so He had full access to pulling my panties down.
He took his time and placing His fingers in the elastic waist band of my black panties, He very slowly began to pull the panties down. I sucked in a breath; I was so fucking turned-on I was about to orgasm right there standing before Him, on Him. I could feel His warm breath on my bare abdomen…how could He not smell my sex? I was so wet, so hot…I wanted Him to run His fingers between my legs…I wanted Him to touch my womanly delights…I wanted Him to fuck me, fuck me anyway He wanted and could…
I felt myself trembling…I couldn’t control my trembling…I was so turned on, I felt as though I were having an out-of-body experience.
He pulled my panties down to my knees and then down to my ankles…
“Step out of the panties, Victoria,” He told me. I obeyed. There I was standing before Him in His office…I was holding my dress up to expose my now bare pussy and ass…my thigh highs exposed, still wearing my high-heeled shoes…I don’t know when I’ve felt so exposed and turned on.
“Come here, Victoria,” He instructed. He placed the panties on His desk and was now sitting with his knees together…He pulled me to the side of His legs…
“Bend over, Victoria, bend over my lap,” He said. I began to bend over his lap while his hands moved to place me right where He wanted me. “That’s a girl, yes, lay with your full weight across My legs.” I did as I was told. I could feel my womanly juices running down the insides of my thighs…I wanted Him to touch my pussy, touch me, make me cum…
He placed His left hand on my shoulder blades as though to hold me down and then I felt His right hand resting just on the middle of my ass cheeks. And then before I knew it what was happening, He spanked my bare ass cheeks with a firm hand…the sound was deafening but thoroughly electric. The pain was instant but it hurt so good…another smack of His hand…I couldn’t help but flinch and jump…first one ass cheek then the other received one firm spank after another…I was wiggling and squirming as He administered each spank…I felt the tears fill my eyes…I felt my pussy throbbing with excitement, with the agony of needing a sexual release…
“Let it all out, Victoria, let go,” He told me with a softer tone to His voice…I was so close to orgasm I could taste it…I felt His hard cock pressing into my belly…surely He wanted me as much as I wanted Him right this very minute…right?
Another spank on first one ass cheek and then the other…my ass was on fire…my pussy was on fire…I was in pure spanking heaven…or is that spanking hell?
“Do you understand why you’re being spanked, Victoria?” He asked quietly as He continued to paddle my bare behind with His hand.
“Yes, Sir,” I replied.
“Do you want a release, Victoria?” He asked.
“Yessss, yes, Sir,” I managed to mumble.
“What my dear? I don’t believe I heard you?” He asked a little more stern. Another spank on my bare bottom…
“Yes, Sir, I want a release,” I replied where He could hear me.
“Good, girl,” He said and I felt His hand slip between my legs. I felt His fingers inserting into my hot, swollen, wet pussy…He began to finger fuck me, my ass cheeks on fire from my bare-assed spanking…I was in heaven, fuck my pussy, yes fuck my pussy…
“That’s a girl, give it to Me, give me that orgasm,” He said in a wicked voice. It didn’t take me long to beg…
“Please, Sir, May I cum?” I asked as I tried to hold off cumming on His fingers…
“Yes, you may, Victoria,” He told me as He fucked my pussy with His fingers…it felt like He had His whole hand in my pussy…He had more than one finger in there…I didn’t care, I wanted His whole hand in my pussy, making me cum…and cum I did…He flicked a finger across my swollen clit while fucking me with three of His other fingers…I started cumming and the juices flowing all over His hand…
I was moaning and groaning, wiggling and squirming on His lap…wave after wave of my orgasm washing over me as He held me firmly on His lap. My bare ass dancing around until I finally had given all I had to give.
I don’t know how long I lay across His lap…I finally gathered my wits enough to ask permission to get up.
“Permission granted Victoria,” He told me as He helped me up off of His lap. His hand was covered in my pussy juices. He sat there with a wicked smile on His face.
“Now, Victoria, lick my fingers clean,” He instructed me. “Get down on your knees before me and lick My hand and fingers.” I did as I was told. I took His hand in my mine and began to lick my pussy juices from His fingers. He reached around with His other hand and pulled my dress up again to reveal my bare ass. I could feel the heat still lingering there from my spanking. I loved the taste of my juices on His fingers. I wanted to please Him as He had pleasured me…
He then pushed me back and pulled my chin up to look at Him.
“Now, Victoria, I want you to suck my cock. I want you to make love to My cock with your mouth. Can you do that?” He asked. I was ecstatic, I wanted to see His cock, I wanted to suck His cock…I wanted to take His load of cum in my mouth and swallow every drop! He had never bared Himself to me before, this was an ultimate treat. I sat back on my heels and waited for Him to stand up and unzip. I was so thirsty for His jism…I could feel my own excitement growing again…
He unzipped and then dropped His trousers and then ever so slowly lowered His boxers to reveal a raging hard-on. He let His trousers and boxers fall to the floor and then He sat back down in his chair. He positioned himself where His ass cheeks were on the edge of the chair allowing His hard cock an optimal angle.
“Now, suck me, Victoria, suck my cock,” He instructed. I took to my task immediately…I took His hard shaft in my hand and began to lick up and down the shaft, licking around the rim…taking the whole head of His cock into my mouth…He had a nice sized cock…though it seemed to be swelling with each flick of my tongue. I wanted to please Him; I wanted to show Him I was good cock-sucker.
I could feel my pussy growing hot again, I sucked the best I could, I made love to His cock…I wanted to taste Him, I wanted His load of cum in my mouth, I wanted to taste Him…
His hips started moving ever so slightly and then His hips started thrusting forward into my hot, little mouth.
“You have a wicked mouth, Victoria, suck My cock, bring My boiling load of cum up from My balls,” He hissed at me as I continued sucking His cock like there was no tomorrow. I held His cock with one hand while I dipped my fingers into my hot, wet pussy, covering my fingers with my juices…having lubed up my fingers, I then found His ass crack just over the edge of the chair, while holding onto His cock with my hungry mouth, I began to feel into His crack to find His ass hole…it didn’t take me long to work first one finger and then the other into His ass crack and then into His ass hole…I then began to suck even harder on His cock while I inserted my finger into His ass hole moving my finger to massage His prostate…I had no sooner found the magic spot when He grabbed my head and heal me down on His hardness…I felt His legs tense and then the hot splash of His jism filling my mouth and throat.
I sucked Him every drop out of Him…I removed my finger and sat back as He sat back in the chair trying to regain some composure. I stood up and went over to the sink at the far end of the office and washed my hands. Then I picked up my purse and headed to the door. I never said a word, I unlocked the door and let myself out. I left Him there, completely spent in the chair…
I fall more in love with Madam P every day. As Madam and I settle into our life of consensual slavery, my inner Universe continues to expand in ways I could never have dreamed possible. I find myself more and more focused on Madam. I’m having some difficulty putting into words exactly what it is that I’m experiencing. This feels like a rush of… bliss or of peace. A quiet takes over me when I think of Madam. I feel my consciousness reach out into the world when we’re apart, feeling for her presence, her movements somewhere out there. I feel connected to Madam at all times, as if by an invisible unbreakable cord of pure love.
Yesterday when I got home from work, I had barely walked in the door and hung my coat in the closet when Madam called me into her office. There was Madam sitting at her desk, absent mindedly playing a computer video game. She pointed to the floor beside her and said, “I want you to sit here beside me.” I didn’t ask why. I didn’t whine that I just walked in from work and want to do this or that. I didn’t drag my feet or heave a sigh. With a glad heart I said, “Yes Madam” and I took my place on the floor at Madam’s feet. As I sat there listening to the music coming from Madam’s computer game, with my head resting on Madam’s lap, I allowed every single fragment of my awareness to focus on Madam. I let my entire being go; I held nothing in reserve. I thought no thoughts. I desired nothing except one single thing: to be pleasing to Madam. In that pure moment frozen in time, everything inside of me became pure bliss, flowing through me into Madam.
That moment, sitting on the floor at Madam’s feet listening to her play a video game, is the pure essence of what it is that I get out of being Madam’s consensual slave. Everything it is that we do comes down to one pure experience for me: the experience of being obedient. I’m discovering that nothing charges my battery like the experience of being obedient to Madam’s every request. Being obedient fills me with joy, bliss and peace. Obedience turns me on, gets me white hot with sexual desire and keeps me there without end. Every bit of slave training from this point forward, I now understand, is really just obedience training. (That is to say, that’s what it’s about for me; I can’t speak for Madam’s experience.)
Don’t get me wrong, I’m still a total pervert. I still like a good beating and endorphin rush; I’m still a total humiliation whore. I still love sensory deprivation and being tied up for hours at a time. But nothing feeds my soul or reaches the core of who I am like an opportunity to demonstrate my obedience to Madam.
Now here’s a confession, something that I feel bad about. Last night Madam P gave me a HUGE opportunity to demonstrate my absolute obedience and I totally disobeyed her. Here’s what happened. First let me just say that I don’t like bugs. Okay, I tend to be kind of terrified of bugs. So, there was this creepy beetle thing on the ceiling. Madam courageously climbed onto a chair as I stood behind her to make sure she didn’t fall, and she tried to grab the beetle with a tissue. Well, the beetle broke free and jumped for it. Before the bug had a chance to run away across the floor, I stomped the life out of the bastard. Madam then picked up the beetle with the tissue she still held in her hand and she told me to eat the beetle. (Did I mention that I’m vegetarian and have been for nearly 24 years?) What I absolutely, positively should have done is to tip my head back and open my mouth and wait for Madam to decide what she was going to do. I should have trusted and obeyed. Instead I stood there staring at Madam, not sure whether to believe the seriousness of her request (Madam is also vegetarian), while in my mind I weighed the gravity of simply refusing and accepting whatever punishment Madam deemed just. Madam P totally let me off the hook, laughed and took the bug to the trash. I was a little upset and shaken, not so much because Madam told me to eat the bug, but because I realized that I’m not trained nearly well enough to trust and obey when told to do something I really, really don’t want to do (like eat a bug.) I feel bad about that.
I look forward to the day that Madam has me trained so well that I completely surrender when she tells me to do something that I really, really DO NOT WANT TO DO, whether she actually intends for me to follow through our not. I desire to be so well trained that I just open my mouth and close my eyes and wait for Madam to decide how serious she is in such a circumstance. I’m sorry I failed you last night, Madam P.
The paper explores the mutually-constituted relations between avatars, space, and artifacts depicted in players’ profile portraits in a Second Life BDSM community. The significance of these images is not simply their representation of the lifestyle; they also convey the entertainment and interactive significance of virtual BDSM fantasy play. Through 3D game technology and photographic conventions, participants of BDSM community collectively construct a grammar and symbolism of power and submission through institutional structures (BDSM communities and lifestyle practices), enforced roles (dominance and submission, master/mistress and slave), and virtual photographic technologies (in-game instant snapshots). In the process, the spectator consciously and unconsciously participates in the power dynamics that these portraits depict.
Bardzell, S. (2006). The submissive speaks: The semiotics of visuality in virtual BDSM fantasy play. Proceedings of the 2006 ACM SIGGRAPH symposium on Videogames, p.99-102, 30-31 July 2006, Boston, United States of America.
On Monday things got off to a big, fat 172-page start with the defense’s motion to compel outstanding discovery. If it seems like we’ve been here before, that’s because we have.
Here’s some pictures of Master I’ve been meaning to post. 
The last one was from when he was sick, so he was laying on the couch with Samantha. ^^ I just love these pics, I took them all the same weekend. 
It was fun though, and it helped him learn which knots he needs to “tighten up” so to speak, and which ties I can easily escape from. I’m pretty flexible, so in his defense, he is already at a disadvantage.
( I’ve had too many bad experiences with various dentists to not be a *bit* apprehensive. It sucks. I just hope tonight goes well. It’s just a cleaning, so nothing is going to really happen, but I will be making plans to come back to get some cavities filled (I think I have four), and one of my teeth needs a cap. I just want to get it done. 
)