Thursday, May 29, 2008
1. I must address Master as "Master" at all times, unless in the presence of others.
2. My cunt belongs to Master and must be shaven at all times.
3. I'm not allowed to wear pants in Master's presence unless I ask and am given permission.
4. Upon entry to Master's house, I am to immediately strip naked and put on the outfit he has laid out for me (if any) and put on my cuffs and collar.
5. I must ask permission before I orgasm.
6. I must keep my legs open at all times, and knees spread apart when I am kneeling.
The penalties for infractions of the corresponding rules are as follow:
1. I will receive a slap on my face. If I continue to slip-up, Master will resort to humiliation tactics.
2. I will be bound and have the hairs forcibly removed by tweezer.
3-6. Will resort in serious, currently unnamed consequences.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
From a reductionist perspective, this doesn't sound very difficult...but I somehow don't think reality is so cut and dry. In addition, many sites advocate for hand use to prevent jaw fatigue and the wicked gag reflexes of those who can't make their way down to the base of the shaft. Because Master doesn't want me to use my hands--I have a feeling that they will be tied up a lot--I think that overcoming my gag reflex is going to be an important part of pleasing him.
- cover teeth with lips,don't bite
- suck hard, create a tight seal
- move tongue around
- flicker tongue at the frenulum and head of the penis
- get really into it; make eye contact with him
I've also been watching some blowjob videos, courtesy of youporn.com. I'm hoping that visual memory will help me, so that the next time I'm presented with his cock, I'll just instinctively know what to do. I'm not entirely sure if this rationale will work though. Watching other people do stuff is a good start for getting an overview but doesn't really inform my own technique. I have to pick up some groceries tomorrow so I'll likely be spending some time in the produce isle. Bananas, cucumbers, carrots--oh my!
The image of a submissive woman kissing her Master’s hands in utmost reverence is very powerful to me, especially if this hand-kissing occurs after a particularily exacting bondage session or a difficult punishment. I see it as a sign of her devotion and appreciation of what those hands are capable of, her way of saying that she respects those hands even if she sometimes fears them. It is very different from the kiss of a vanilla man on the hand of the female he loves. These male kisses on a female's hand represent tenderness, acknowledgement of her delicacy, the desire to protect her. I value and enjoy these types of kisses in their own right, but they are completely and utterly different in connotation than a slave's kiss of her Master’s hand. For me the submissive woman's kiss represents her promise to worship and adore him, to be compliant to his will and to yield to the power of his hands. It is her way of telling him that she will respond willingly to his every gesture, his every touch, regardless of whether he is providing pleasure or punishment. One of my all-time favourite D/s related images involves a hand-kiss and comes from the Submissive Loving (http://www.submissiveloving.com/) postcard page:
Now, onto the matter of feet. Feet are dirty, they are often neglected and accumulate the scars, calluses and bruises from heavy, daily wear. In biblical times, washing the worn and dirty sandaled feet of guests was an act reserved for the lowliest of slaves. It has long been seen as an act of humility, devotion, veneration. To put my lips to my Master’s foot and gently kiss them would showcase my understanding that even the parts of him that might be considered the most neglected and soiled, are still of great importance to me. To me, this act the submissive's desire to worship all aspects of her Master and to hold even his feet in great regard, above her pride, above her comfort. The idea of the spontaneous foot kiss is also powerful for me; the act of falling to one's knees to kiss the feet of a benefactor, to show appreciation and devotion, especially when it hasn't specifically been demanded. I really like that kind of stuff; rituals and rites to showcase humility and deference to one’s Master.
Simple acts have the greatest impact on me. It is the integration of such acts into encounters with my Master that have recently driven my fantasies.
I realize now that my concern about tonight was not from anything that we tried. I ean the spanking hurt more than anticipated, but I have no doubt that with time my body will become conditioned to it. I learned that I'm not much of a masochist at all. My arousal is in any pleasure you derive from doing whatever you want to me. I want to please and serve you. My only concern was the misunderstanding about my current state of inexperience. I thought you knew, and so I went along with the [blowjob] since I figured you'd take me through it slowly. When I started getting a sense that you didn't realize the extent of my inexperience...I knew I probably should have spoken up...but I didn't. Anyway, I'm not uneasy, unhappy about the act itself but I'm worried about the miscommunication. Ultimately, it didn't hurt either of us (unless maybe my poor technique did hurt you)...but it concerned me because it was a piece of information that could have changed decision-making.
Ideally for me, that would have happened more slowly and come with more instructions. I was so terrified and confused...and I don't want to be when I am supposed to be pleasuring you. I'm not blaming you for the miscommunciation...the convo we had about this was a couple of weeks ago and over [instant messenger] and I know it's easy to get things mixed up online.I also know that I had responsibility for speaking up and voicing concern, so I think we just need to establish ways of communciating critical info. I have no doubt that this will come in time though.
I had fun tonight [and though I was] emotional, I still want very much to be yours."
Monday, May 26, 2008
Part I: Highlights
Master prefaced the encounter by telling me that Saturday was the day when he would exert his complete ownership of me. I couldn’t help but get wet at thought of being completely owned, even though I could not preemptively imagine what this date could entail. Ah, the joys of being submissive—to get completely excited by abstract concepts! In each free moment of the preceeding week, and even in not-so-free moments, my attention was captured by thoughts of waiting for him on my knees and the initial excitement when he finally entered the room and placed his hands on my trembling body. My stomach clenched thinking about the moment where I’d be at his complete disposal. He often asks me to describe the thoughts I have of him but I haven’t been able to give him any specifics since my recent fantasies are never fully-formed. They are not scenes but rather tiny snippets; an imagined moment of his palm across my cheek or his fingers through my hair or my wrists encircled in his grasp. But I stopped myself from getting carried away with stories or obsessing about potential details, since over-thinking often diminishes the effect of reality. I spent my week in anticipation without actively anticipating. I wanted to completely enjoy the novelty of the moment when it finally came.
Saturday came and the first thing on the agenda was food. The couple seated next to us in the restaurant were struggling through a painfully apparent first date. When I'm with friends and there is a pause in the conversation, one of our favourite games is to observe couples and guess how their dates are going. I didn't even tell Master about this game that I play, so I was very amused when he picked up on the first-date status of the adjacent couple and analyzed their body language with me. One of the qualities I really like in Master is that he is fun. Now in retrospect, I can’t remember if it was an order or more of a playful dare, Master got me to ask the woman how her date was going. When her date went to the washroom, Master also slipped away, which gave me a chance to catch this woman's attention. Despite her confusion at my inexplicable friendliness, we bonded over dates and reassured each other. She seemed fairly nervous but loosened up after we spoke, as if she drew comfort by our comparable date status at the next table. I was very amused by the whole thing and this sense of playfulness and folly has deepened my appreciation for Master. Talking about mastery and enslavement all sounds very heavy; it evokes images of rituals and commands, fear and uncertainty, sternness and severity. And although these components have their place in my fantasies, I am ultimately young, fun and trying to enjoy the prime of my life. It is a great relief to find a man who I can both have fun with and be submissive to.
After eating, Master drove me back to his place and ordered me to keep my legs spread apart in the car. I was wearing a dress and Master drew the fabric high up my thighs, pulled my underwear out of the way and began to play with me as he drove. I felt so very exposed—in my head, the pedestrians that I'm usually be oblivious to, were all staring at me. In my mind, every driver in the passing cars were leaning over to catch a glimpse of the show between my legs. I continuously tried to press my thighs together, almost reflexively, because as modest and very guarded woman I couldn't bear the humiliation of such exposure. However, after I kept shifting, Master finally had enough and pinched me so hard down there that it sent a darting shock through my abdomen. The quick transition from his gentle stroking of my clit, to a hard, prolonged pinch was an effective reminder that the point of his stimulation is not actually my pleasure but my obedience to his will. It’s wildly exhilarating to be reminded of this, even if it did hurt.
Master continued to play with me as he drove back to his place. I sat with my hands behind my back, as he had his way. The actual movement of his hand across my sensitive areas felt good but the best part was when he turned to me and placed my hand on his crotch so that I could feel his hardness. “This is how we know this is real,” he told me, “that you are so wet from having me tell you what to do and that I am so hard from having you under my power.”
And that is exactly the essence of what I am looking for. Have I been spanked before? Yes, half-heartedly, after extensive coaxing of my current vanilla partner. I’ve been handcuffed. I've been locked up in a dog crate. I’ve invented situations to be submissive to vanilla men. However, none of my partners have found joy or pleasure in my submission. It’s so exciting to finally meet someone smart, funny and attractive who is excited by my desire to submit.
As the car ride continued, my cell phone rang. I told Master I could ignore it if he wanted but he made me answer it and hold an entire conversation as he continued to thrust his fingers into me. Imagine my vulnerability as a respectable, upstanding, professional woman as we were driving through familiar neighbourhoods where I was afraid I'd see someone I knew, legs wide open, fully exposed, his fingers pulsing in me as I desperately fought to supress the moans that threatened to pepper my phone conversation.
When we got back to Master’s place, he attended to some other business he had while I followed the written instructions he had set out for me. The instructions involved stripping naked and putting on a sheer black negligee, collar and wrist cuffs before setting some candles around the living room, and kneeling on a designated mat until he was ready for me. When he was ready, he bound my hands behind my back and blindfolded me. He had some work to attend to on his computer, and played with me intermittently, even sitting me on his lap at a point and playing with me between typing. Then, he eventually led me to the dining table made me lie on my stomach, head to the side, and tied each of my limbs to the four legs of the table. He placed a pillow under my head and this tender gesture made me so happy. Master wants my obedience, desires my submission, but he ultimately cares for me and this just makes me heart flutter.
Master then spanked me hard with his hand. I've never been spanked properly, never like this. The first few smacks were so heavy that they caused my entire body to heave, but they were slow and allowed time for the heat to crawl through my behind, allowed time to process the pain and confuse it with pleasure. However, after the first few thwacks, his hand kept coming; swiftly, covering all areas, rapidly attacking from all directions. The barrage of motion made the initially pleasant heat turned into a deep, burning pain that radiated across my thighs and made my closed eyes well up with tears. I clenched my teeth and all my muscles. I didn’t want to complain since master had told me to be quiet but it was very difficult not to groan with each drop of his hand. Then master brought out another object, which I later found out was a ruler. He hit me hard with it and created a completely different sensation; a sharp, crisp sting. I clenched my teeth harder until my jaw was aching and couldn’t help but writhe and make distressed noises. There was no pleasure. The stinging was unbearable and the pace was so quick that there was no time for my poor bum to brace itself for the next hit. Master was attentive to my groaning though and gave me permission to beg if it was hurting me too much. I took a few more whacks of the ruler before I really needed to plead with him to stop. He didn't cease right away but was kind enough to stop shortly after I begged him to.
After the spanking, Master brought me some water. He poured it over his fingers and put them in my mouth. There was so much pleasure in having this contact with him, to feel the difference between the firmness of his unrelenting hand on my ass and then, so gently at my mouth and face. The paradox of pain mingled with gentle intimacy makes me so giddy. We are apart right now, and when I think of him, it is the gentle moments I remember. But without the harsher and more physically exacting moments, it is impossible for these little gestures to have such a powerful meaning.
Part II: Shadows
After my spanking initiation at the table, Master untied me from the table, clipped my wrist cuffs behind me, led me to the wall and indicated for me to kneel. Then he unzipped his pants and showed me his cock. My mind started racing immediately. We had spoken in the weeks prior to this about my general inexperience with sex. I had told him that I had never performed oral sex before and had been so apprehensive of his response; expecting it to be negative or at the very least, uncertain. Instead, he had been reassuring and told me that he could wait and that he would guide me into things slowly. He told me that he expected oral sex from his slave but would try to make me comfortable and ease me into things. I came to trust Master fairly quickly and although I was paranoid and a bit humiliated during our car ride, although I was vulnerable and a bit nervous sprawled out on the table, my trust in him had not faltered that evening. However, the minute that I was faced with his cock, I was immediately worried. I had never done this before. I was terrified, I was nervous, I didn’t really know if I was ready, especially since ’m the type of person who can spend days debating big decisions. Part of me wanted to resist and express my uncertainty, part of me just told me to go along with it. And in the split second where I had to make my decision, I reminded myself that I had told him about my inexperience earlier and that he said he would take care of me. I reminded myself that this I was looking for a master to place my trust in, to guide me. I told myself that if he thought that I was not ready for this, he wouldn’t put me through emotional duress. So, I took his cock in my mouth and tried my best. I really had no concept of what to do, I couldn’t believe I was doing what I was doing. He didn’t really say anything and that started to frighten me. I felt less and less like I was being led and more like I was lost and faltering in the dark. I started to get a sense that we were not on the same page and I eventually pulled away.
I really can’t remember the exact sequence of events after that but somehow we moved from the floor to the bed where he just fondled me and explored my body some more. When we were discussing sexuality a few weeks back, he told me that he would be seeing me naked and playing with me. He told me to expect it and I agreed that this would be okay and got used to the concept of it all. However, it was so unnerving to me that though he told me he would take him time with me, he had already expected my inexperienced little mouth to take up his cock and know what to do with it without any guidance.
Now, I can’t really remember what happened next. I might mix up the order, so maybe he’ll have to remind me what actually happened. I think that after awhile, we ended up just cuddling on the bed. My thoughts were just spinning and I was trying to make sense of everything that was going on. He told me to go down on him again and I told him that I was unsure of what to do. This time he guided me more and told me what he wanted to do. I felt less vulnerable because my hands were free at this point too, not pinned behind my back as they had been earlier. However, I still was pretty clueless at what to do. After he came, I couldn’t swallow and spit up on him, so I wiped him off and kept apologizing and explaining that my ineptitude was due to my inexperience. At this point he seemed very confused and asked me if I had ever given head before. When I told him I hadn’t, he seemed completely astounded and was almost certain I had told him I had. I was floored, not only because we had discussed this earlier but I vividly remembered the conversation because his gentle response, his reassurance, his promise to care for me had made a deep impact on me and made me feel safe in his hands. His not remembering this conversation my heart sink. No spanking, no beating could have made me felt as powerless and sad as that one moment did.
I had made myself completely vulnerable to a man. I had ignored instinctive concern even though I had sensed that something was a little off. I had lowered my guard even though I knew it didn’t feel right. I was suddenly very upset. Master was also upset. He told me that if he had realized this, he wouldn’t have let it happen so soon. He kept asking me if I was feeling okay. I wasn’t, but I didn’t fully realize this at the time. His acknowledgement and concern made me think I was overreacting. I knew he hadn’t purposely tried to hurt me. In fact, I felt really stupid too for not stepping up and doing my part to prevent this misunderstanding, so I kept reassuring him that I was fine. We kept playing.
I really don’t remember when I started crying...but I did. When he saw my tears, his expression was completely torn. He kept trying to ask me what was wrong and looked at me like I had broken his heart. At the time, I had no clue why I was feeling so unsettled. I couldn’t isolate the reasons for my tears. It took going home and reflecting on all the experiences and issues to finally figure out the reason for my anxiety and sadness.
When I got home that night I cried and tried to sleep but couldn’t. Master and I said our goodnights via instant messenger, but an hour or so later he came on again because he couldn’t sleep either out of worry and wanted to make sure I was okay. I told him for the first time that I was a little bit shaken. Later that night, I figured out enough of my feelings that I was able to write him an explanatory email. My problem wasn’t with the actual act, nor was it the feeling that I couldn’t trust him, rather it was concern about communication. While I knew Master would never hurt me purposely, I was unnerved because I realized that poor communication could create a situation where I became hurt me unintentionally. I am willing to trust in his decisions, but in order for him to make good decisions he needs to know and understand enough about me. This requires communication. We have talked since and established that we need to work on communication as we establish norms and boundaries in our relationship.