Today, I saw Master for a few hours. It takes me around an hour to get from my place to his and because I have to take the bus, I wore underwear. There’s no way I’m going to take public transit without underwear; one accidental movement of my skirt could put my genitals in direct contact with public transit seating, and I could do without avoidable disease. If you think I’m neurotic and paranoid, it’s because I am. If I’m with Master, fine, I’ll do the no underwear thing...especially since then I will be standing, or kneeling, or at most sitting on "safer" surfaces like his car. If he decides to make an exhibitionist of me, and flash my parts, I am ultimately fine with this because I know he is there. He knows what he’s doing, he won’t let randoms just come over and take advantage. However, for the sake of modesty, propriety and not wanting to attract negative attention when alone and using public transit, I wear underwear.
But I digress...the point is, I was wearing underwear when I saw master. It was a thong, which I still usually wouldn’t wear under a flimsy dress, but I was trying to compromise. In the car, he tried to play with me and wasn’t pleased with the underwear situation. To remedy it, he attempted to just tear it off. Not good for me. The result was the worst abrasion ever; my lips and perineum are still really swollen and tender. After my groans of pain and practically jumping out of my seat, he continued tugging at the underwear. When it still refused to rip off, despite the worst wedgie ever, he ordered me to remove them and to hand them over to him. I did this with some embarrassment. He held them and contemplated for mere few seconds before he rolled down the window and chucked them out of a moving car. They flew onto a beautifully manicured lawn.
We went back to Master’s place, and as usual, he stripped me naked and put on my cuffs and collar. Earlier he had been chastising me about not blogging about last weekend, even though he had been reminding me all week. So, when I was dressed in my collar and cuffs, he decided to punish me for my transgressions.
He blindfolded me and put clothespins on my nipples and on the lip of my vagina. That hurt a lot. My vagina is also badly irritated because the first time I shaved it for Master, I had no clue how to do that properly, and I created deep irritation. This exacerbated the pinching of the peg. Master made me kneel, bound me wrists behind me and shoved a vibrating dildo in my mouth. Of course, my gag reflex is still awful, so I kept retching but it was lodged far down in my mouth and I couldn't do anything about it. He made me kneel like that for some indeterminate amount of time.
I know I must sound like a pretty useless sub…I’m a giant baby when it comes to pain. I really can’t deal with it. I can’t dull my gag reflex. I couldn’t sit there quietly and take it. I kept whimpering and crying, despite the gag in my mouth. Finally, Master removed the dildo. He pulled me up and brought me to the bed. He sat up, and made me sit on his thigh. This was awful, because the peg was still on my swollen labia. I kept resisting and trying to stand, but he made me sit. I got really wet and came all over his leg. This makes no sense to me because I was in a lot of pain and I just really, really wanted it to all stop. It’s not like I orgasm or had any of the pleasant physiological reactions associated with sexual stimulation, and yet I was wet enough to embarrassingly cover his leg with discharge. Master tells me that my body betrays me and that I really am a painslut because of these aroused reactions to the pain.
I really don’t know what to make of it. I’ve never thought of pain as arousing before. I avoid pain at all costs. The idea of a spanking is only arousing to me because of the fact that Master is touching me, and moving me to position he wants, and getting his way. Master can get hard from just hitting me, and the idea of him getting hard by just pushing me around, excites me. I wonder if this physiological arousal to the pain stems from my desire to submit to him and be under his control, or if I really like the pain. I somehow don’t think I do. I mean, I really dread when he pulls and twists on my breasts. I actually think this is the worst pain. And when I think about him really pulling hard on my breasts, it makes me very anxious and I have to force myself not to think about it, or I’ll get frightened about what he can do to me.
I really don’t think I like pain, I just think I like being under Master’s control. I just think I have to learn how to handle the pain more graciously, so that he can actually do what he likes without having me whimpering and complaining.
After my punishment was over, he let me lie with him in bed. I’m always so cautious and frightened after punishments. I don’t like being humiliated. I don’t like pain. Those things in themselves distress me. However, I most of all, don’t want master to be displeased with me. I need him to remind me that he is just training me to be the way he wants, and that he doesn’t hate me just because he’s punishing me. It’s hard for me to grasp. I’ve never been punished in my vanilla life. I don’t get the idea of loving discipline. So, when master hurts me, I need to be reminded that he’s not being malicious. He still cares about me. He knows I need this and he reminds me and wipes away the tears. Being with him is so cathartic, so liberating. I’m so afraid to screw things up though. I don’t ever want him to get tired of me, or so frustrated with me that he gives up on me.
Earlier in the evening, master had taken me to a sex toy store, and sent me inside, by myself, to get an anal plug, since he wants to have anal sex eventually. I’m not really sure when I agreed to this whole anal sex business when we talked about limits at the beginning but it seems that because I didn’t have a freak-out earlier, I don’t have a choice at this point. The whole idea of it makes me nervous. The thought of tangibly having a penis in my bum disgusts me. Poo comes out from there. Poo is waste material, it's full of bacteria. It can make you sick. Poo is not good. I don't really understand why master would want to still his cock in a hole that is often filled with poo.
But anyway, I went to go get this butt plug, but the guy who runs the store didn’t speak English properly, so I was forced to fend for myself. I got these round bead things. So at some point in the later evening, master made me kneel and bent me over. He rubbed lube all over me—and because he used too much, ended up rubbing it all over my breasts and stomach just for fun—and shoved all of these beads up my ass. It was a weird sensation. I’ve used a suppository once and it just feels like that. It stimulates your smooth muscles reflexes and makes you feel like you have to poo. Of course, I realized this and since I had no desire to have a bowel movement previous to the insertion, I figured it was just the beads and didn’t make a fuss. I was surprised at the ease though. I think something bigger is possible but I still cringe to think of some of those massive plugs. And master’s cock in my ass. I really do not need a perforated rectum.
But, I guess if we do it properly, and we don’t end up tearing my poor intestines, it could be okay. I think poo is gross. I don’t personally want to associate any of my other organs or appendages with poo, but I guess it’s Master’s penis and he can do with it what he likes. I’m just going to hope we do this carefully and safely, so I don’t have to deal with torn intestines.
Okay, back to the narrative. At this point in the evening, I was covered with raspberry lube. Anyhow, to remedy the global lube problem, master brought me to the bathroom, made me kneel in the shower and sat on the edge of the tub as he lathered me up and rinsed me. I do really like it when master bathes me. I like being his doll, his plaything. Though now, whenever I see a little boy playing with a female doll, I’m going to now suspect that he will grow up to be a dom.
It's late, and I haven’t been telling this story properly at all, so now I will just list random things:
- Initially I thought cum tasted very bad. Now, I eagerly anticipate the moment that Master comes, when I am giving him head. I like the taste of him in my mouth, so much so that I can—and do—imagine the smell and taste of him when he’s not around. Gad, I feel so corrupt writing that. I think I’m getting better with this whole business but I still have some coordination issues. I guess practice makes perfect.
- Master is so handsome. He has amazing eyes, and a beautiful mouth and a perfect nose, and whenever he furrows his eyebrows at me I want to please him so that they smooth out. I melt when he smiles. I shiver when he touches me. I get all tingly when he kisses me. I love his firm body pressed against me.
- Master was on top of me at some point and casually threw in that he was going to get STI tested. We had talked about this last week and he really, really seemed opposed to this, which worried me. It’s not that I don’t trust him. If he says he has had X amount of partners, I believe him. I do think he’s probably fine, but really…I’m a virgin, I’m hyper vigilant with my health, I’m so cautious about everything. I adore master, but my health is so important to me. You can never be too careful and it’s always good to check these things, so I really wanted him to do it. He seemed really resistant to it, and we didn’t actually come to a conclusion at the end of the discussion about what would be done. I went home and actually worried about how I was going to convince him. Anyway, he threw it in there today and I was so happy that he’s willing to do it for me—I mean, he should be doing it for himself as safe practice—but I’m so grateful that he came to this conclusion anyway. I was so overcome with happiness and gratitude that he just conceded to it without extensive badgering.
- I decided during the week that I was going to go on birth control. After extensive convos with girlfriends about various forms, they all had a talk with me about not rushing etc. It’s sweet…everyone knows my extremely idealistic position on sex and the importance of valuing it, so although many of my friends don’t really agree with my stance, it’s sweet that made sure to check that I was being true to my own values. It surprises me how understanding people are sometimes. Anyway, I was advised to just go on it, but not tell Master…so that if I wanted to, I could have sex…and if I didn’t want to, he wouldn’t know about the birth control and this wouldn’t create unnecessary pressure. Master kept telling me early on I’d lose it to him and that he’d wait…but in the back of my head, I was still like…whatever, it’s my choice, I can get out of this if I want to. But I guess, at some point this week, I decided that I would without even really realizing it, since I just blurted out to him that I was going on birth control even though I was going to not divulge that. So yeah, I guess it’s going to happen. I’m not going to think about this further, because comparing realties to my twisted idealizations of how my world should be will just confuse me. We’re going to make preparations for safety and then, when it happens, it’ll happen.