Yes. Things do happen that indicates that I enjoy the pain itself. That is I enjoy the feelings it generates in my body. Pain is pain - it hurts. But what happens when I'm lying naked in front of someone who wants to hear and see me cry, and who has the instruments to provoke that reaction in me? I start getting excited - it all happens - I get moist, my nipples grow and feel like they are going to burst - I fear the coming pain and I long for the pain.
I have been many times now right at the edge.. the edge of oblivion..opf disappearing into the pain and the orgasm that just puts me into that incredible state of just being a body - and nothing else -
I dream of falling off that edge.
tirsdag 23. november 2010
torsdag 14. oktober 2010
On Display
The other day I was chatting with somebody and started talking about once when for the first time ever I was displayed to an audience.
It was an incredibly sexy experience and I will try to tell it as I remember it. It's some years ago, but it's still a delightful memory, firmly imprinted on my mind:
I had gotten to know Theo, accepted him as my Master, and he brought me to his home in France. He has a lovely house there, and one of its' best features is a big terrace, partly covered by a huge vine growing over a loggia. The terrace is secluded from probing eyes and curious neighbors.
After a couple of weeks alone with Theo in the house, where he worked at forming me to his needs and desires he one day suggested inviting some friends over for a party. We talked about it and he explained in broad outlines what he wanted to do at the party.
You have to understand something about the situation. Theo lives in the countryside. The French countryside is different than in many other countries because it has a fairly large population. There is only a four, five minute drive between villages many places and when you are up in the mountains and look out over the coastal plains you see the land scattered with small towns and villages. The circle of friends that Theo wanted to invite lived in an area from the italian border to the spanish and quite a bit inland. In practice this meant that a full party meant the whole weekend, all guests being housed in the house, plus one couple who took a hotelroom close by.
People strated to arrive friday evening. Quite a few had driven quite far and arrived late. A little food and some littkle socializing in the kitchen was all that happened. Everybody kept their clothes on and the conversation centered on the new museum in Bilbao as I seem to remember. Most people knew each other from before, only I and a german couple that Theo knew from Berlin were new. Very fast everybody was included and it was all very pleasant.
Saturday it all started. It would be an exaggeration to say that I had slept much that night, my feet and hands had been secured just enough so that it was impossible for me to touch myself where i wanted to touch.
In the morning Theo paid a lot of attention to dressing me. I ended up with silk stockings fastened to a garter belt. Actually the first time in my life I ever wore such a contraption, it felt strange. I had no panties on and my sex had been very carefully shaved and was very smooth I remember looking in the mirror and feeling a bit embarrassed because my sex was swollen and the slit glistened with moisture. I got a bra on with half-cups which lifted my breasts and left my nipples exposed.
Then Theo proceeded to secure my arms behind my back hand to opposite elbow and firmly secured there. It had the effect of pressing my chest forward and leaving my hands where they didn't interfere with whatever anybody wanted to do to me. It didn't take a genius to understand the purpose of that.
Suddenly Theo scooped some ice cubes from a bowl and rubbed my crotch with them. It had a shocking but also a very calming effect on me.
To finish the masterpiece I was draped in a dress that had no sleeves. It was low-cut showing a bit of cleavage in a silk/cotton material that draped itself easily over my body down to mid-thigh.
Breakfast was served on the terrace and it looked like a perfectly ordinary breafast scene. The only thing a little odd about it were five girls and a boy who were sitting on the floor being fed morsels from their masters' tables.
I remember looking out at the scene standing by Theos side as he called for everyones' attention. I was so excited and I was slowly disappearing into a trance-like condition. I remember hearing Theos words like they were coming from very far away:
"My dear, dear friends. I have asked you to come here today to meet a most delightful little slavegirl. This is Julie. She is twenty-two and claimed to be a slave-nature when we met. I have had the chance to get to know her and it is with great pleasure I can tell you that she is a very gracious, sweet-natured and intelligent little thing who loves our kind of games and all it entails"
By this time the tingling in my body made it almost impossible to stand still and I started making little movements and small whimpering noises. Theo laughed a little and stroked my head
-shush little girl, shush-
"As you can see, she is a redhead. I can assure you it is natural, the proof of it has been removed but I trust you will take my word for it. She is as you can see, lightly freckled and her skin has that wonderful, almost translucent quality frequently found in redheads. She is a hundred and sixtythree centimeters tall and weighs in at fiftyone kilos. As you can see, from the knees down, her legs are a little short and stubby. This is quite honestly the only negative feature I have been able to find in her body. Have patience and you will see for yourselves."
He turne towards me and said gently: "My dear, would you turn around, please - good - bend over a little. Thank you dear, hold it there"
I feel his hands lifting the dress slowly and with a clear sense of showmanship. "Oh -la-la, what a sight for the gods."
Suddenly I jump from a hard slap to my behind, not from the pain, just the surprise.
"Now ladies and gentlemen see how her skin colors beautifully just from a small slap. One of the many advantages of the redheads tender skin. Julie, please spread you legs a little my dear, like that, good. Bend over a little more, good, that's fine. Now my friends, in between here - relax girl - you can see her cunt - clearly our little Julie is excited with the proceedings it is her own secretions you can here sloshing around."
I felt so embarrassed as they all laughed.
"Turn araound dear, spread you legs, we all would like to admire your cunt in its full glory. Good, very good - now dear Friends the swollen state of her sex and the abundant wetness is of course situatinal and not part of her normal apearance. The noticably pronounced pudenda is however constant and its worth understanding that her slit is normally fairly open. Her inner labia are generally visible. (He spread my cuntlips) She is easily excited and actaually surprisingly moist almost constantly."
He was massaging my slit with the heel of his hand and there was this really loud whooping sound when he took his hand away. Again everybody laughed heartily
He lifted the dress over my head and I could see looks of appreciation from the guests. I felt strangely proud. (I actaully felt prouder there and then than I did when I got my master's degree)
He pinched my nipples and pulled them out hard to make them firmer and more visible over the bracups.
"She uses a C-cup and her nipples are very very sensitive. Aren't they my love?"
He squeezed the nipples hard and made me squirm. It wasn't enough and he suddenly squeezed and twisted so hard that it really hurt and it brought tears to my eyes.
"I think we shall remove this my dear and let your breasts free. Like that. Mybe you could run in place for us my dear, yes, like that, a little faster. There ladies and Gentlemen and slaves, that wonderful bounce certainly must convince you of the firm consistancy of her breasts and indeed of her flesh in general"
After a few more exercises in the same vein came the moment I had been waiting for with eager anticipation but also considerable trepidation.
" Now ladies and gentlemen, we also need to understand something about her pain tolerance and also that supremely aesthetic quality: beauty under the cane! I will use this slender bamboo cane on her breasts. Such a simple but yet effective and handy piece of equipment. A few cuts across her breasts, and a few across her nipples if my aim is good will undoubtedly do the trick."
It did the trick.
I could have gone on to tell you what happened after Theo proclaimed that everybody was of course free to examine me for themselves, but I am getting tired of writing now.
Love,
Julie
It was an incredibly sexy experience and I will try to tell it as I remember it. It's some years ago, but it's still a delightful memory, firmly imprinted on my mind:
I had gotten to know Theo, accepted him as my Master, and he brought me to his home in France. He has a lovely house there, and one of its' best features is a big terrace, partly covered by a huge vine growing over a loggia. The terrace is secluded from probing eyes and curious neighbors.
After a couple of weeks alone with Theo in the house, where he worked at forming me to his needs and desires he one day suggested inviting some friends over for a party. We talked about it and he explained in broad outlines what he wanted to do at the party.
You have to understand something about the situation. Theo lives in the countryside. The French countryside is different than in many other countries because it has a fairly large population. There is only a four, five minute drive between villages many places and when you are up in the mountains and look out over the coastal plains you see the land scattered with small towns and villages. The circle of friends that Theo wanted to invite lived in an area from the italian border to the spanish and quite a bit inland. In practice this meant that a full party meant the whole weekend, all guests being housed in the house, plus one couple who took a hotelroom close by.
People strated to arrive friday evening. Quite a few had driven quite far and arrived late. A little food and some littkle socializing in the kitchen was all that happened. Everybody kept their clothes on and the conversation centered on the new museum in Bilbao as I seem to remember. Most people knew each other from before, only I and a german couple that Theo knew from Berlin were new. Very fast everybody was included and it was all very pleasant.
Saturday it all started. It would be an exaggeration to say that I had slept much that night, my feet and hands had been secured just enough so that it was impossible for me to touch myself where i wanted to touch.
In the morning Theo paid a lot of attention to dressing me. I ended up with silk stockings fastened to a garter belt. Actually the first time in my life I ever wore such a contraption, it felt strange. I had no panties on and my sex had been very carefully shaved and was very smooth I remember looking in the mirror and feeling a bit embarrassed because my sex was swollen and the slit glistened with moisture. I got a bra on with half-cups which lifted my breasts and left my nipples exposed.
Then Theo proceeded to secure my arms behind my back hand to opposite elbow and firmly secured there. It had the effect of pressing my chest forward and leaving my hands where they didn't interfere with whatever anybody wanted to do to me. It didn't take a genius to understand the purpose of that.
Suddenly Theo scooped some ice cubes from a bowl and rubbed my crotch with them. It had a shocking but also a very calming effect on me.
To finish the masterpiece I was draped in a dress that had no sleeves. It was low-cut showing a bit of cleavage in a silk/cotton material that draped itself easily over my body down to mid-thigh.
Breakfast was served on the terrace and it looked like a perfectly ordinary breafast scene. The only thing a little odd about it were five girls and a boy who were sitting on the floor being fed morsels from their masters' tables.
I remember looking out at the scene standing by Theos side as he called for everyones' attention. I was so excited and I was slowly disappearing into a trance-like condition. I remember hearing Theos words like they were coming from very far away:
"My dear, dear friends. I have asked you to come here today to meet a most delightful little slavegirl. This is Julie. She is twenty-two and claimed to be a slave-nature when we met. I have had the chance to get to know her and it is with great pleasure I can tell you that she is a very gracious, sweet-natured and intelligent little thing who loves our kind of games and all it entails"
By this time the tingling in my body made it almost impossible to stand still and I started making little movements and small whimpering noises. Theo laughed a little and stroked my head
-shush little girl, shush-
"As you can see, she is a redhead. I can assure you it is natural, the proof of it has been removed but I trust you will take my word for it. She is as you can see, lightly freckled and her skin has that wonderful, almost translucent quality frequently found in redheads. She is a hundred and sixtythree centimeters tall and weighs in at fiftyone kilos. As you can see, from the knees down, her legs are a little short and stubby. This is quite honestly the only negative feature I have been able to find in her body. Have patience and you will see for yourselves."
He turne towards me and said gently: "My dear, would you turn around, please - good - bend over a little. Thank you dear, hold it there"
I feel his hands lifting the dress slowly and with a clear sense of showmanship. "Oh -la-la, what a sight for the gods."
Suddenly I jump from a hard slap to my behind, not from the pain, just the surprise.
"Now ladies and gentlemen see how her skin colors beautifully just from a small slap. One of the many advantages of the redheads tender skin. Julie, please spread you legs a little my dear, like that, good. Bend over a little more, good, that's fine. Now my friends, in between here - relax girl - you can see her cunt - clearly our little Julie is excited with the proceedings it is her own secretions you can here sloshing around."
I felt so embarrassed as they all laughed.
"Turn araound dear, spread you legs, we all would like to admire your cunt in its full glory. Good, very good - now dear Friends the swollen state of her sex and the abundant wetness is of course situatinal and not part of her normal apearance. The noticably pronounced pudenda is however constant and its worth understanding that her slit is normally fairly open. Her inner labia are generally visible. (He spread my cuntlips) She is easily excited and actaually surprisingly moist almost constantly."
He was massaging my slit with the heel of his hand and there was this really loud whooping sound when he took his hand away. Again everybody laughed heartily
He lifted the dress over my head and I could see looks of appreciation from the guests. I felt strangely proud. (I actaully felt prouder there and then than I did when I got my master's degree)
He pinched my nipples and pulled them out hard to make them firmer and more visible over the bracups.
"She uses a C-cup and her nipples are very very sensitive. Aren't they my love?"
He squeezed the nipples hard and made me squirm. It wasn't enough and he suddenly squeezed and twisted so hard that it really hurt and it brought tears to my eyes.
"I think we shall remove this my dear and let your breasts free. Like that. Mybe you could run in place for us my dear, yes, like that, a little faster. There ladies and Gentlemen and slaves, that wonderful bounce certainly must convince you of the firm consistancy of her breasts and indeed of her flesh in general"
After a few more exercises in the same vein came the moment I had been waiting for with eager anticipation but also considerable trepidation.
" Now ladies and gentlemen, we also need to understand something about her pain tolerance and also that supremely aesthetic quality: beauty under the cane! I will use this slender bamboo cane on her breasts. Such a simple but yet effective and handy piece of equipment. A few cuts across her breasts, and a few across her nipples if my aim is good will undoubtedly do the trick."
It did the trick.
I could have gone on to tell you what happened after Theo proclaimed that everybody was of course free to examine me for themselves, but I am getting tired of writing now.
Love,
Julie
onsdag 6. oktober 2010
A morning on collarme
So I've spent yet another unproductive morning on Cm. Not that I am really looking much for new dominants given my calendar is pretty much full anyway. I think the reason I'm there at all is that elusive dream, meeting the perfect Owner. The one who I just see is the one to take me out of my present life and enslave me forever. Seeing a message from him/her/them and get that feeling of a weightless head, like a helium-filled baloon pulling me up towards the clouds, and job, profession, daily worries all become unimportant and meaningless.
All this is at the back of my mind, and I am the one insisting upon reality! Life is a paradox.
Instead i get all those messages that I don't even bother answering anymore, impolite as that may be. All those that talk of slavery, obedience, cages, pain and so on and so on....
I get messages from people who seem to be looking more for an unpaid maid than a sexual and emotional connection. In fact the need for an emotional connection seems to elude most people who proclaim their dominance and willingness to "own" another human very loudly. If people have no emotional attachment to any of their posessions, they are not my kind.
Another thing, and now I am really going to reveal what a snob I am. I may be a slavenature, but i'm also a snob!
Why are there so many people from the lower social-economic demographic on Cm.?
Why are there so many representatives of the idiot side of the culture war here?
Just wondering, that's all....
All this is at the back of my mind, and I am the one insisting upon reality! Life is a paradox.
Instead i get all those messages that I don't even bother answering anymore, impolite as that may be. All those that talk of slavery, obedience, cages, pain and so on and so on....
I get messages from people who seem to be looking more for an unpaid maid than a sexual and emotional connection. In fact the need for an emotional connection seems to elude most people who proclaim their dominance and willingness to "own" another human very loudly. If people have no emotional attachment to any of their posessions, they are not my kind.
Another thing, and now I am really going to reveal what a snob I am. I may be a slavenature, but i'm also a snob!
Why are there so many people from the lower social-economic demographic on Cm.?
Why are there so many representatives of the idiot side of the culture war here?
Just wondering, that's all....
tirsdag 5. oktober 2010
DREAMING
I dream. Night-dream and day-dream. The day dreams are the interesting ones.
I am always naked. My breats are feeling heavy, in my belly there are ants running around. My pussy is moist, soon wet. I am on my knees, thighs spread, my hands are resting on the floor beside me, palms up. my nipples are puckered, bigger than normal and getting hard.
I shiver in anticipation.
In my mind I feel the enormous relief and lightness that comes fromthe ultimate freedom. The real freedom of not acting, thinking, meaning, Just being. Being owned. Being ruled by another.
Just yielding to owners quiet friendly voiced orders. Formulated as requests, but never leaving any doubt that they are precise instructions.
-Lean back, please, and push your hips forward - he says quietly. I would never dream of not doing as he says, because he has by his words decided what I will do.
-Good little girl, he says. He grabs my crotch and feels the smooth skin of the freshly shaved cuntflesh. I delight in feeling the pressure of his firm hand and give a little noise of contentment as I feel two fingers pressing decisively into my cunt.
Leaning back with body and soul in perfect warm happy contentment that my master is taking his pleasure with me I relax and I am about to sink into a state of soft, warm, fluffy happiness when I scream as the sharp cane cuts across my breasts, hurting a nipple with a hard, painfull sting, bringing tears to my eyes and small whimpers to my mouth.
It is followed by a series of cuts criss crossing my belly. He hits hard today, very hard. I know bellyflesh will rise into angry red welts in a few minutes.
the tears are running now and i am crying for real now, and I know this excites my master and that makes me happy.
Suddenly the caning stops, my legs are forced even wider apart and I feel my master entering me and filling my cunt and my lower belly with his cock and I feel every inch of my cuntflesh being massaged and rubbed by his cock and again the special feeling of happiness at being used by my master fills me.
Writing this makes me wet and I will go somewhere and masturbate. All for now folks, hope you enjoyed it!
I am always naked. My breats are feeling heavy, in my belly there are ants running around. My pussy is moist, soon wet. I am on my knees, thighs spread, my hands are resting on the floor beside me, palms up. my nipples are puckered, bigger than normal and getting hard.
I shiver in anticipation.
In my mind I feel the enormous relief and lightness that comes fromthe ultimate freedom. The real freedom of not acting, thinking, meaning, Just being. Being owned. Being ruled by another.
Just yielding to owners quiet friendly voiced orders. Formulated as requests, but never leaving any doubt that they are precise instructions.
-Lean back, please, and push your hips forward - he says quietly. I would never dream of not doing as he says, because he has by his words decided what I will do.
-Good little girl, he says. He grabs my crotch and feels the smooth skin of the freshly shaved cuntflesh. I delight in feeling the pressure of his firm hand and give a little noise of contentment as I feel two fingers pressing decisively into my cunt.
Leaning back with body and soul in perfect warm happy contentment that my master is taking his pleasure with me I relax and I am about to sink into a state of soft, warm, fluffy happiness when I scream as the sharp cane cuts across my breasts, hurting a nipple with a hard, painfull sting, bringing tears to my eyes and small whimpers to my mouth.
It is followed by a series of cuts criss crossing my belly. He hits hard today, very hard. I know bellyflesh will rise into angry red welts in a few minutes.
the tears are running now and i am crying for real now, and I know this excites my master and that makes me happy.
Suddenly the caning stops, my legs are forced even wider apart and I feel my master entering me and filling my cunt and my lower belly with his cock and I feel every inch of my cuntflesh being massaged and rubbed by his cock and again the special feeling of happiness at being used by my master fills me.
Writing this makes me wet and I will go somewhere and masturbate. All for now folks, hope you enjoyed it!
onsdag 15. september 2010
Impotent dominant men
There are some. I have met a few. Before anybody assumes anything - two impotent doms I know are among the greatest doms and most wonderful lovers I know. They are both older, one i know had a bout with prostate cancer. They are both perfectly at ease with their impotence and they know how to deal with me in ways which really makes it unimportant wheather I suck on a hard or a soft penis. I don't mind.
The problem is the man who becomes a so-called dominant and a sadist because he seeks revenge on the whole female sex for his own inadequasies.
Normally i succeed in sussing out the type before I actually meet with them, but this weekend it happened.
A fairly attractive man, good looking and dresses well. has an incompetent hairdresser, but that's not his fault. Well modulated voice, a tiny bit high-pitched. All in all he makes a good first impression as we met in a restaurant. He makes me show myself playing it dangerously close to being discovered bu others and it turns quite exciting. We change information about ourselves and I feel I get to know him a little.
He appears quite commanding, a bit arrogant (quite a few doms are, Its not at all a turn off) We talk about limits and safewords, signals. I get real horny and when he asks I almost leap up to follow him home.
He lives in a small house, he undresses me and leaves me naked on the porch and goes in, locking the door. Once he is inside he turns on the outside lamp really illuminating me, I become highly visible to anybody passing on the street. I kneel down partly covered by the railing, but clearly still visible from the street. An elderly couple out for a stroll pass, see me, hesitate and move on. By the time he lets me in I am practically dripping!
He takes a flogger and warms me all over, by this time he is excited himself and he presses me down on my knees before him, he drops his pants and underpants. He has a mid sized cock, it is semi-hard. He grabs my head commands my moth open to maximum capacity and proceeds to face-fuck me. Hard. And then I start noticing after a while that he is getting softer and softer.
I start to suck hard and for a short while the cock responds, but then - it just goes to sleep!
That is when he gets angry. Its wednesday today. It hurts to walk. I have a terribly bluish-yellowish eye, my entire body is covered in welts and also takes on the complete spectrum of the rainbow colors. He never responded to my safewords or my hand signals.
It was exciting. It ended up being painfilled misery.
I have been with him for the last time.
Shit, its so hard to pick the right ones!!
He seemed so perfect when we corresponded in advance.
The problem is the man who becomes a so-called dominant and a sadist because he seeks revenge on the whole female sex for his own inadequasies.
Normally i succeed in sussing out the type before I actually meet with them, but this weekend it happened.
A fairly attractive man, good looking and dresses well. has an incompetent hairdresser, but that's not his fault. Well modulated voice, a tiny bit high-pitched. All in all he makes a good first impression as we met in a restaurant. He makes me show myself playing it dangerously close to being discovered bu others and it turns quite exciting. We change information about ourselves and I feel I get to know him a little.
He appears quite commanding, a bit arrogant (quite a few doms are, Its not at all a turn off) We talk about limits and safewords, signals. I get real horny and when he asks I almost leap up to follow him home.
He lives in a small house, he undresses me and leaves me naked on the porch and goes in, locking the door. Once he is inside he turns on the outside lamp really illuminating me, I become highly visible to anybody passing on the street. I kneel down partly covered by the railing, but clearly still visible from the street. An elderly couple out for a stroll pass, see me, hesitate and move on. By the time he lets me in I am practically dripping!
He takes a flogger and warms me all over, by this time he is excited himself and he presses me down on my knees before him, he drops his pants and underpants. He has a mid sized cock, it is semi-hard. He grabs my head commands my moth open to maximum capacity and proceeds to face-fuck me. Hard. And then I start noticing after a while that he is getting softer and softer.
I start to suck hard and for a short while the cock responds, but then - it just goes to sleep!
That is when he gets angry. Its wednesday today. It hurts to walk. I have a terribly bluish-yellowish eye, my entire body is covered in welts and also takes on the complete spectrum of the rainbow colors. He never responded to my safewords or my hand signals.
It was exciting. It ended up being painfilled misery.
I have been with him for the last time.
Shit, its so hard to pick the right ones!!
He seemed so perfect when we corresponded in advance.
torsdag 2. september 2010
Being somebody's permanent slave?
Would it be possible?
I assume I share a lot of fantasies and dreams with other subs. One of those dreams is to be a permanent slave. A 24/7/365 slave!
There are some of my friends whom I see more or less on a regular basis who I could easily submit to, and start a process of wiping out my ego (I sound like a budhist) and becoming that elusive creature: the perfect odalisque.
This dream is one that at times is overwhelmingly strong, at other times it just seems utterly unrealistic. So what to do?
I have to admit to a certain feeling of emptiness with my present life. Being popular is nice, but having booked every weekend and school holiday from now until may next year is surrealistic. I just can't continue, I have to find a solution.
So is total slavery realistic?
What would it require?
Some sort of guarantee that if my owner got tired of me when my breasts sag too much, my skin is not so fresh and my hair starts to go grey, I would still be taken care of. Money-wise I mean. I would need some arrangement. A legal contract of some kind, naming me an employee of some kind perhaps?
So the first thing it would require is an owner who is if not rich, at least well-off.
Marriage? At least in countries like the US, a possible divorce would leave me with a sufficient guarantee, provided the husband is sufficiently well off.
The problem is that marriage feels wrong if I am going to be a real slave.
Then, is it really realistic that I could live ALL the time with a very limited set of stimuli? No owner would truly want to tend to me, use me, play with me all the time. There will be hours and hours I would have to spend doing other things. What things would that be?
I dream about it, but I suspect it will remain a dream.
What then?
There is no doubt that my present life is not sustainable over time. Sooner or later (probably sooner) changes will have to be made. So what to do? How to live? What to look for?
I assume I share a lot of fantasies and dreams with other subs. One of those dreams is to be a permanent slave. A 24/7/365 slave!
There are some of my friends whom I see more or less on a regular basis who I could easily submit to, and start a process of wiping out my ego (I sound like a budhist) and becoming that elusive creature: the perfect odalisque.
This dream is one that at times is overwhelmingly strong, at other times it just seems utterly unrealistic. So what to do?
I have to admit to a certain feeling of emptiness with my present life. Being popular is nice, but having booked every weekend and school holiday from now until may next year is surrealistic. I just can't continue, I have to find a solution.
So is total slavery realistic?
What would it require?
Some sort of guarantee that if my owner got tired of me when my breasts sag too much, my skin is not so fresh and my hair starts to go grey, I would still be taken care of. Money-wise I mean. I would need some arrangement. A legal contract of some kind, naming me an employee of some kind perhaps?
So the first thing it would require is an owner who is if not rich, at least well-off.
Marriage? At least in countries like the US, a possible divorce would leave me with a sufficient guarantee, provided the husband is sufficiently well off.
The problem is that marriage feels wrong if I am going to be a real slave.
Then, is it really realistic that I could live ALL the time with a very limited set of stimuli? No owner would truly want to tend to me, use me, play with me all the time. There will be hours and hours I would have to spend doing other things. What things would that be?
I dream about it, but I suspect it will remain a dream.
What then?
There is no doubt that my present life is not sustainable over time. Sooner or later (probably sooner) changes will have to be made. So what to do? How to live? What to look for?
onsdag 1. september 2010
Enforced chastity, orgasm control. I hate it!
First of all it never works on me. I come to easily. I tend more and more to sort out dominants who uses this a s a dominating technique.
I also think it's a counter-productive technique if the dominant's desire is to grow and nurture the sense and depth of submission in me.
It calls mostly for a gigantic mobilization of will-power for me to postpone an orgasm that wants to happen.
It becomes a tool to train will-power in me!
Where is the sense in that?
For me it is much more a re-inforcement of my objectification, my submissiveness, to constantly being brought to orgasm through the will and manipulation of my dominant. The orgasm just becomes a result of my dominant's action and is divorced from my own control. To hold it back re-inforces MY control, because it is ultimately I who have to control it.
I would like to hear from Dominants about this. What pleasure do you get out of it? Why do you think it is a productive technique?
Please, tell me!
I also think it's a counter-productive technique if the dominant's desire is to grow and nurture the sense and depth of submission in me.
It calls mostly for a gigantic mobilization of will-power for me to postpone an orgasm that wants to happen.
It becomes a tool to train will-power in me!
Where is the sense in that?
For me it is much more a re-inforcement of my objectification, my submissiveness, to constantly being brought to orgasm through the will and manipulation of my dominant. The orgasm just becomes a result of my dominant's action and is divorced from my own control. To hold it back re-inforces MY control, because it is ultimately I who have to control it.
I would like to hear from Dominants about this. What pleasure do you get out of it? Why do you think it is a productive technique?
Please, tell me!
tirsdag 3. august 2010
I feel I owe my readers to give a summary of my "great american tour of 2010". I already posted a short description from my first meeting with a wonderful, single domme in New York.
From there I went south to North Carolina and had a not very great time with a somewhat confused man who actually got to whip a woman for the first time in his life. It's not the first time this has happenend to me and I still find it quite strange. Some men are able to write with a degree of sophistication and knowledge which clearly is founded on extensive reading of internet sites and books. Unfortunately the first time a woman meets one of them it becomes embarrassingly obvious that she is dealing with a neophyte who knows the theory but just doesn't have the manner and self-confidence of the experienced man.
He was a harmless man, but rather pathetic and I left after one day.
I got in touch with my Florida date hoping I could come there a little early, and it suddenly turned out I couldn't come there at all. It appeared that the female part of the couple had never been informed of the invitation at all, it clearly was not her I had spoken to on the phone after all and the man was terribly embarrassed and tried to cover it all by being rather abusive on the phone. So there I was, a full week before I was meeting my old friends in Chicago, and they were away so going there early was not an option.
It ended up with going back to New York and spending yet one more week as a devoted slavegirl to a mistress who is fast becoming one of my particular loves.
Then Chicago - all I can say is again, Thank You both, and yes I will be back sometime and I know Theo sent you an invitation and please, please do think about it.
The last visit was to a small town in northern California, so small that I shouldn't really name it because my Master there likes his anonymity. He had a place just outside town where I have spent a week in harness, for the first time really being a ponygirl. It took quite some time learning to pull that sulky when blindfolded, just being steered by the reins to the bit in my mouth. I got quite good at it I feel, but god - northern California summers are really quite cold!
I will skip the next week which was spent with my father and his wife and kids. It was nice but I was happy when I got onto that plane to New York again. This time to meet Theo, who had decided to pick me up there.
Four days in a luxury hotel. Great restaurants. Jazzclubs, comedy club and then a quick flight to Paris, TGV to Montpellier and now I am back, naked under the loggia on Theo's terrace.
Life is good!
Some people should be grateful that I am too polite to actually post their names on my blog!
From there I went south to North Carolina and had a not very great time with a somewhat confused man who actually got to whip a woman for the first time in his life. It's not the first time this has happenend to me and I still find it quite strange. Some men are able to write with a degree of sophistication and knowledge which clearly is founded on extensive reading of internet sites and books. Unfortunately the first time a woman meets one of them it becomes embarrassingly obvious that she is dealing with a neophyte who knows the theory but just doesn't have the manner and self-confidence of the experienced man.
He was a harmless man, but rather pathetic and I left after one day.
I got in touch with my Florida date hoping I could come there a little early, and it suddenly turned out I couldn't come there at all. It appeared that the female part of the couple had never been informed of the invitation at all, it clearly was not her I had spoken to on the phone after all and the man was terribly embarrassed and tried to cover it all by being rather abusive on the phone. So there I was, a full week before I was meeting my old friends in Chicago, and they were away so going there early was not an option.
It ended up with going back to New York and spending yet one more week as a devoted slavegirl to a mistress who is fast becoming one of my particular loves.
Then Chicago - all I can say is again, Thank You both, and yes I will be back sometime and I know Theo sent you an invitation and please, please do think about it.
The last visit was to a small town in northern California, so small that I shouldn't really name it because my Master there likes his anonymity. He had a place just outside town where I have spent a week in harness, for the first time really being a ponygirl. It took quite some time learning to pull that sulky when blindfolded, just being steered by the reins to the bit in my mouth. I got quite good at it I feel, but god - northern California summers are really quite cold!
I will skip the next week which was spent with my father and his wife and kids. It was nice but I was happy when I got onto that plane to New York again. This time to meet Theo, who had decided to pick me up there.
Four days in a luxury hotel. Great restaurants. Jazzclubs, comedy club and then a quick flight to Paris, TGV to Montpellier and now I am back, naked under the loggia on Theo's terrace.
Life is good!
Some people should be grateful that I am too polite to actually post their names on my blog!
mandag 5. juli 2010
Remote control. WOW.
First she put this egglike,metal,thing up my pussy. Then, a light leather harness with a crotch strap keeping it in. It also squeezes my breasts at the base and make them fill with blood and stand out in the most provocative fashion. Then t-shirt and cut offs so tight and short it is bound to draw a lot of eyes.
Then out to view the Macy's fourth of july fireworks.
Among a few million others. It seems they're all aware of me.
She starts to zap me - bzzzz, and my belly and cunt contracts and twitches and burns.
I perform a litle dance. I try to look like i'm just ecstatic about the fireworks.
It's incredibly warm. I sweat, my t-shirt gets warm - and wet - and translucent.
What a sight i must be.
torsdag 24. juni 2010
Woman and submission - is it nature?
Sometimes it feels like its in my nature. When I kneel before a man, undress before him, lie back and spread my legs to ease his access to me, when I take his cock into my mouth, when He penetrates Me, it all feels like it is a given, natural interplay between the sexes that we act out again and again. I constantly perform these acts which as natural symbols all say the same thing: I am the passive recipient, I am the penetratetee so to say, I am the submissive.
And mind you, this is just in regular vanilla sexplay. Variations of the kind that is played out by the great majority of men and women everywhere in the world.
When the physical construction of men and womens bodies means that sexual acts are performed in a way so loaded with symbolism, it seems reasonable to ask the question: Are women by nature submissive to men?
Has this eternal division of the sexes between the taker and the taken, had the consequence that women are at least more predisposed towards submissive feelings?
Everywhere else in nature males fight each other over the right to mate with the female who submits to the winner. Is the human being the only animal that is different?
I do absolutely agree with those who say that you can find individual women (and men) who seem to disprove the assertion that women are submissive, but does individual cases tell you anything other than the obvious: there are always variations in behaviour! In all animals!
The perhaps proper way to put it is: Is there a greater disposition for submission in females than in males?
My answer is yes. And i am perfectly happy with that.
What's your answer?
And mind you, this is just in regular vanilla sexplay. Variations of the kind that is played out by the great majority of men and women everywhere in the world.
When the physical construction of men and womens bodies means that sexual acts are performed in a way so loaded with symbolism, it seems reasonable to ask the question: Are women by nature submissive to men?
Has this eternal division of the sexes between the taker and the taken, had the consequence that women are at least more predisposed towards submissive feelings?
Everywhere else in nature males fight each other over the right to mate with the female who submits to the winner. Is the human being the only animal that is different?
I do absolutely agree with those who say that you can find individual women (and men) who seem to disprove the assertion that women are submissive, but does individual cases tell you anything other than the obvious: there are always variations in behaviour! In all animals!
The perhaps proper way to put it is: Is there a greater disposition for submission in females than in males?
My answer is yes. And i am perfectly happy with that.
What's your answer?
tirsdag 15. juni 2010
Some games and a certain lack of patience
The first year working is coming to an end.
Summer vacation starting in a week.
Four visits for three new dom/dommes, and one couple who're old friends by now is waiting for me in the states.
Then a family visit
And then reunited with my dear uncle Theo.
Hopefully I have been a clever girl and found people who are genuine, knowledgable and have that attitude which ignites the fire in my belly.
My last encounter of the season was this weekend with my danish daddy. For a weekend I have worn diapers, forgotten all lessons from my potty training, made funny noises, smiled a lot, put all sorts of things into my mouth, and never lost close contact with the floor! Only times off the floor was on my back on the table, being washed and powdered and fiddled and gotten fresh diapers on. A few unbaby like things was part of the fun, but somehow that was fun too.
Its strange with plays like this. I can do them, and I do them well. I enjoy them, but actually friday to sunday gets to be a bit much. I tire of this game faster than I do of others.
I arrived friday evening and was prepared for the baby mode and put to bed with some partly un-baby-like rituals, and so good fine. The next day was long thou and sunday morning I was tired of it. We broke off early, went into town and had lunch and some nice conversation while we waited for my plane to leave. We agreed to do it shorter next time.
I wonder why I love this play so much, and yet tire of it so fast?
Summer vacation starting in a week.
Four visits for three new dom/dommes, and one couple who're old friends by now is waiting for me in the states.
Then a family visit
And then reunited with my dear uncle Theo.
Hopefully I have been a clever girl and found people who are genuine, knowledgable and have that attitude which ignites the fire in my belly.
My last encounter of the season was this weekend with my danish daddy. For a weekend I have worn diapers, forgotten all lessons from my potty training, made funny noises, smiled a lot, put all sorts of things into my mouth, and never lost close contact with the floor! Only times off the floor was on my back on the table, being washed and powdered and fiddled and gotten fresh diapers on. A few unbaby like things was part of the fun, but somehow that was fun too.
Its strange with plays like this. I can do them, and I do them well. I enjoy them, but actually friday to sunday gets to be a bit much. I tire of this game faster than I do of others.
I arrived friday evening and was prepared for the baby mode and put to bed with some partly un-baby-like rituals, and so good fine. The next day was long thou and sunday morning I was tired of it. We broke off early, went into town and had lunch and some nice conversation while we waited for my plane to leave. We agreed to do it shorter next time.
I wonder why I love this play so much, and yet tire of it so fast?
tirsdag 8. juni 2010
Summer and the fire in my belly
Finally summer arrived in the frozen north. And it has really been an extraordinary cold winter, and the cold lasted thru may.
But then, finally the sun came with warmth and the fantastic light. I've been here for almost 8 years now, and I have gone totally native.
Like the others I put on the least clothes I can get away with and spend as much time outside in the sun that I can manage. I love to sit outside on a sidewalk café with a beer just soaking up the sounds and smells and sights of the northern summer.
All my longing for my native south cal climate disappears with the cold.
Many people here think southern California have no seasons at all. I have tried to explain to them many times that we do, native californians have no trouble keeping the seasons apart. But living here you come to understand that the change of season can be monumental and represent a change between arctic and equtorial weather in the space of a day. (well, almost)
Then there is that special effect of the summers arrival.
The ants.
Not the ones in nature, but the colony that suddenly has established itself in my lower belly.
The ones that make my cunt so wet at inapropriate times, so that I have to break my habit of not wearing panties in case people will notice the drip.
There is a strange thing about this particular horniness. I do not long for my usual solutions as much. I don't look for wild SM sex. (well, at least not as much).
What really satisfies me at this time is tender, soft, lingering, affectinate vanilla girlsex. Slowly rubbing cunts with a close girlfriend.
Clean sheets on the bed. A bottle of cold white petite Chablis in a cooler on the nightstand, a naked girl with a friendly smile in my bed.
I challenge anyone to come up with a more pleasant scenario
But then, finally the sun came with warmth and the fantastic light. I've been here for almost 8 years now, and I have gone totally native.
Like the others I put on the least clothes I can get away with and spend as much time outside in the sun that I can manage. I love to sit outside on a sidewalk café with a beer just soaking up the sounds and smells and sights of the northern summer.
All my longing for my native south cal climate disappears with the cold.
Many people here think southern California have no seasons at all. I have tried to explain to them many times that we do, native californians have no trouble keeping the seasons apart. But living here you come to understand that the change of season can be monumental and represent a change between arctic and equtorial weather in the space of a day. (well, almost)
Then there is that special effect of the summers arrival.
The ants.
Not the ones in nature, but the colony that suddenly has established itself in my lower belly.
The ones that make my cunt so wet at inapropriate times, so that I have to break my habit of not wearing panties in case people will notice the drip.
There is a strange thing about this particular horniness. I do not long for my usual solutions as much. I don't look for wild SM sex. (well, at least not as much).
What really satisfies me at this time is tender, soft, lingering, affectinate vanilla girlsex. Slowly rubbing cunts with a close girlfriend.
Clean sheets on the bed. A bottle of cold white petite Chablis in a cooler on the nightstand, a naked girl with a friendly smile in my bed.
I challenge anyone to come up with a more pleasant scenario
tirsdag 1. juni 2010
Showing off
As anybody who's followed my blog so far has understood, I enjoy a lot of things which qualifies me for various categories, names, syndromes and so on and so on, I don't really give a damn, but here is one more:
Exhibitionist!
I am one.
I take sexual pleasure in being observed, eyed, stared at by people showing their desire for me or their contempt for me, or really any strong emotion they show.
I love to meet a couple on the street, a little to much tit showing, a pair of clinging tights and no panties, pudenda and slit outlined. In his eyes desire, in hers jealous anger! What a rush!
I never do so in the city where I live, but I travel a lot.
The real rush however, the session that stimulates every cell in my body and sends me off to regions of sensation way outside normal experience, where the mind leaves reality and orgasms wash over me released by a look or the bare cupping of my pussy in a hand, a probing finger, a twisted nipple, a cane over the soft belly - are different.
That is when a Man or a Woman or a Couple puts me, their slave on display to a group of strangers. When they demonstrate my body's features, capabillities or shortcomings to an audience. When the onlookers are allowed to touch, fondle, grope, try, hurt, slap, in short, inspect the meat for themselves.
Yes, I am an exhibitionist, and I am proud of it, because I'm good!
Exhibitionist!
I am one.
I take sexual pleasure in being observed, eyed, stared at by people showing their desire for me or their contempt for me, or really any strong emotion they show.
I love to meet a couple on the street, a little to much tit showing, a pair of clinging tights and no panties, pudenda and slit outlined. In his eyes desire, in hers jealous anger! What a rush!
I never do so in the city where I live, but I travel a lot.
The real rush however, the session that stimulates every cell in my body and sends me off to regions of sensation way outside normal experience, where the mind leaves reality and orgasms wash over me released by a look or the bare cupping of my pussy in a hand, a probing finger, a twisted nipple, a cane over the soft belly - are different.
That is when a Man or a Woman or a Couple puts me, their slave on display to a group of strangers. When they demonstrate my body's features, capabillities or shortcomings to an audience. When the onlookers are allowed to touch, fondle, grope, try, hurt, slap, in short, inspect the meat for themselves.
Yes, I am an exhibitionist, and I am proud of it, because I'm good!
Bad experiences
Sometimes a bad experience happens. I won't go into details, but I just had a terrible one. A couple whose dominance I have enjoyed for years now suddenly overstepped in a way which just precludes any more meetings.
In a way it is strange that there aren't more bad experiences than there are. I mean, being like me I'm really putting my life in the hands of others. I permit people to restrain me, use me, punish me, humiliate me, even torture me. And still, only very rarely does someone abuse that privilege.
There are times when I feel that I'm surfing a little too close to the rocks, that I'm taking too many chances. The problem is, a wet cunt sometimes weakens my reasoning ability. And I can't deny the fact that some of my best experiences came when I threw caution to the winds and acted on impulse.
Still, girls. If you read this. Remember to be careful: Never meet someone whos identity is at all unclear to you. Insist on real name and adress before you meet, and then at least: google them.
I always leave all information behind on my computer before I meet someone.
And always remember this: Jack the ripper was probably a very charming man whom it was easy to trust!
In a way it is strange that there aren't more bad experiences than there are. I mean, being like me I'm really putting my life in the hands of others. I permit people to restrain me, use me, punish me, humiliate me, even torture me. And still, only very rarely does someone abuse that privilege.
There are times when I feel that I'm surfing a little too close to the rocks, that I'm taking too many chances. The problem is, a wet cunt sometimes weakens my reasoning ability. And I can't deny the fact that some of my best experiences came when I threw caution to the winds and acted on impulse.
Still, girls. If you read this. Remember to be careful: Never meet someone whos identity is at all unclear to you. Insist on real name and adress before you meet, and then at least: google them.
I always leave all information behind on my computer before I meet someone.
And always remember this: Jack the ripper was probably a very charming man whom it was easy to trust!
torsdag 20. mai 2010
And then to something completely different.....
I have said it before and I will repeat it again: The one thing I cannot abide is stupidity. Let me correct that. Stupid people who know they're stupid and behave accordingly are fine. I never met one, but I have no problem tolerating them.
No, the problem are all the stupid people who think they're geniuses, and there are many, many of those.
I cannot be dominated by some idiot I can run rings around, intellectually speaking that is.
I won't ever meet someone of that kind. I don't want to spend time on them.
IF:
You believe Obama is a muslim, secretly working to undermine the US.
You believe Rush Limbaugh is a purveyour of deep truth and insights.
You belive Fox news is a channel of objective, fair journalism.
You think Sarah Palin should be president.
You have ever started reading a book by Glenn Beck, and bothered to finish it.
You believe that dominating a woman sexually is a matter of yelling loudly at her while you whip her.
You are unable to distinguish between your (possibly exciting) sexual fantasies, and reality.
You do not understand that any woman, even if she describes herself as a slave or submissive, is a person, a human being.
You have no education. (high school does not qualify)
You have never read a book
You never follow the news or care about the issues of our time.
You think 9/11 was a jewish or communist or capitalist or US government conspiracy
You voted for Bush in 2004
Then you are an Idiot!!!!
This is a personal, subjective and deeply felt way of categorizing people, that I believe in and live by.
No, the problem are all the stupid people who think they're geniuses, and there are many, many of those.
I cannot be dominated by some idiot I can run rings around, intellectually speaking that is.
I won't ever meet someone of that kind. I don't want to spend time on them.
IF:
You believe Obama is a muslim, secretly working to undermine the US.
You believe Rush Limbaugh is a purveyour of deep truth and insights.
You belive Fox news is a channel of objective, fair journalism.
You think Sarah Palin should be president.
You have ever started reading a book by Glenn Beck, and bothered to finish it.
You believe that dominating a woman sexually is a matter of yelling loudly at her while you whip her.
You are unable to distinguish between your (possibly exciting) sexual fantasies, and reality.
You do not understand that any woman, even if she describes herself as a slave or submissive, is a person, a human being.
You have no education. (high school does not qualify)
You have never read a book
You never follow the news or care about the issues of our time.
You think 9/11 was a jewish or communist or capitalist or US government conspiracy
You voted for Bush in 2004
Then you are an Idiot!!!!
This is a personal, subjective and deeply felt way of categorizing people, that I believe in and live by.
onsdag 19. mai 2010
My true perversion
No .it's not my slave/submissive bdsm life I'm talking about. That's just an essential part of my normal, regular life, and a perfectly sound and healthy activity, thank you very much.
But I do have this rather strange way of getting pleasure that feels a bit strange. Strange in the sense that I don't really know anybody else with the same perversion.
I love bodily fluids. I take great pleasure in men ejaculating over my face and body. I love to be peed on.
My favorite fantasy has me naked, lying on the floor, sometimes restrained sometimes not, and several men masturbate over me and some come, splattering my body and face with their semen. If my hands are free I play with it, rub it into my face, put it in my mouth, suck it and swallow it. Others pee, splashing over my body, my face.
I have experienced scenes coming close to this and I have tried to understand my feelings about it.
One logical answer is that it is my craving for humiliation that is satisfied this way. I have to admit that I find such a scene, or just me kneeling before someone peeing on me, extremely humiliating, but it is more than that.
I delight in the substances themselves. The tactile feeling of rubbing semen into my skin, feeling a big glob of semen between my fingers and then taking it to my mouth, wetting my lips sucking it into my mouth, tasting it, spitting it out again, feel it on my skin.
Anybody else out there?
Please tell
But I do have this rather strange way of getting pleasure that feels a bit strange. Strange in the sense that I don't really know anybody else with the same perversion.
I love bodily fluids. I take great pleasure in men ejaculating over my face and body. I love to be peed on.
My favorite fantasy has me naked, lying on the floor, sometimes restrained sometimes not, and several men masturbate over me and some come, splattering my body and face with their semen. If my hands are free I play with it, rub it into my face, put it in my mouth, suck it and swallow it. Others pee, splashing over my body, my face.
I have experienced scenes coming close to this and I have tried to understand my feelings about it.
One logical answer is that it is my craving for humiliation that is satisfied this way. I have to admit that I find such a scene, or just me kneeling before someone peeing on me, extremely humiliating, but it is more than that.
I delight in the substances themselves. The tactile feeling of rubbing semen into my skin, feeling a big glob of semen between my fingers and then taking it to my mouth, wetting my lips sucking it into my mouth, tasting it, spitting it out again, feel it on my skin.
Anybody else out there?
Please tell
long weekends
These long weekends are wonderful and the month of may is full of them. I have spent several days up in the north serving a family as maid and the parents as maid and slave.
The punishment has been mild, the welts already fading, but the humiliation has been delicious.
The sex too. I have had Master's cock in my ass, and my face buried in Mistress' crotch.
But mostly I have been running around naked or semi-naked, fetching and serving, being handled roughly and gently, and always remembering to expose myself, always trying to insure that my cunt is visible and appears open and ready for use. Coming to think about it, why is that? It was barely used once. I guess the pleasure is in the image I project, I certainly take my satisfaction in seeing the looks I provoke and obeying the order to push my hips forward for a little cunt fondling and always that standard; getting the fingers in my mouth to clean off after.
Ah well, love you guys and we'll meet again in the fall!
The punishment has been mild, the welts already fading, but the humiliation has been delicious.
The sex too. I have had Master's cock in my ass, and my face buried in Mistress' crotch.
But mostly I have been running around naked or semi-naked, fetching and serving, being handled roughly and gently, and always remembering to expose myself, always trying to insure that my cunt is visible and appears open and ready for use. Coming to think about it, why is that? It was barely used once. I guess the pleasure is in the image I project, I certainly take my satisfaction in seeing the looks I provoke and obeying the order to push my hips forward for a little cunt fondling and always that standard; getting the fingers in my mouth to clean off after.
Ah well, love you guys and we'll meet again in the fall!
tirsdag 11. mai 2010
The pleasures of sucking cock
There are a lot of women who will tell you that they don't really like sucking cock, but they'll do it so they can get the same back.
"I'll give head to get head", they'll say.
You go to a woman who sees herself as a submissive or a slave and you'll get a very different answer. They will never admit to not enjoying having a cock in their mouth. Some will however admit as much to a fellow slavegirl. I am surprised at how common it is even among slaves to admit that they take no personal pleasure in sucking cock beyond the obvious pleasure they get from the humiliation.
I am one of these women who actually do enjoy giving head. And yes it has to do with serving, demonstrating servility and submission, with being used, with humiliation.
I am on my knees before a man. that position screams out: I am submissive to this man. I take his cock into my mouth, he grabs my head and he starts to take control, to fuck my face.
Everything about the situation screems out: You are being used by him, he is humiliating you, you are his toy, his property his slave, his meat.
Most women can fool themselves or rationalize the situation and pretend it is not so.
Us subs know better!
And we love it!
"I'll give head to get head", they'll say.
You go to a woman who sees herself as a submissive or a slave and you'll get a very different answer. They will never admit to not enjoying having a cock in their mouth. Some will however admit as much to a fellow slavegirl. I am surprised at how common it is even among slaves to admit that they take no personal pleasure in sucking cock beyond the obvious pleasure they get from the humiliation.
I am one of these women who actually do enjoy giving head. And yes it has to do with serving, demonstrating servility and submission, with being used, with humiliation.
I am on my knees before a man. that position screams out: I am submissive to this man. I take his cock into my mouth, he grabs my head and he starts to take control, to fuck my face.
Everything about the situation screems out: You are being used by him, he is humiliating you, you are his toy, his property his slave, his meat.
Most women can fool themselves or rationalize the situation and pretend it is not so.
Us subs know better!
And we love it!
mandag 10. mai 2010
My tits
tit, boob, breast or local: pupp. I've got two of them. Sort of mid-sized, 36, C-cups. I had a vanilla lover once who spent an awful lot of time playing with them, and when I finally got him to move on a bit, he looked sorely disappointed.
This led to a post-coital discussion of the female breast and the male obsession with them. I can't remember all that much about the discussion, but one line really glued itself to my brain. He said at one point: "if I had breasts like these I would stay home all day and play with them"
I won't presume to speak for every woman , but my breasts are fairly uninteresting to me! I have no particular feeling or sensitivity in the breast itself. They're just two lumps of flesh hanging on my ribcage. No more feelings than any bit of flesh on my body. When they're whipped, it is less painful than some other places on my body like my belly or the insides of my thighs.
I enjoy them mostly for two reasons: They are attractive to others, and, they provide a foundation for my nipples, where the real fun lies. That is where one of the switches to all those delightful sensations is located.
When a cane hits there it hurts.
When they are manipulated hard they create a rush that washes through my body and intensifies that desire to submit to the manipulator.
When they harden and start growing out from the breasts it is a clear signal that I am about to become that quivering, helpless piece of womanflesh you can vent your lust on!
let me put it this way:
I love my teats
torsdag 6. mai 2010
My Cunt
Cunt, pussy, beaver (what if there's no fur?), slit or in the local lingo here: fitte!
I have one and I love it, or rather I love for it to be wanted by men and women. I love the look all men and some women will send me when they see that I'm "accidentily" showing it on the beach or somewhere it seems a reasonable "mistake", or going to a nude beach and lying down, dark shades on, watching people watching me as I lazily spred my legs a little.
I love it when a dominating man fills it and rides it. I love a dildo in it, a vibrator working in there, a tongue, finger, or just whatever playing around in there.
I love the feeling of a dominant exposing it and demonstrating it to strangers. Strangers being allowed to feel it, examine it, fondle it.
I love my cunt
I have one and I love it, or rather I love for it to be wanted by men and women. I love the look all men and some women will send me when they see that I'm "accidentily" showing it on the beach or somewhere it seems a reasonable "mistake", or going to a nude beach and lying down, dark shades on, watching people watching me as I lazily spred my legs a little.
I love it when a dominating man fills it and rides it. I love a dildo in it, a vibrator working in there, a tongue, finger, or just whatever playing around in there.
I love the feeling of a dominant exposing it and demonstrating it to strangers. Strangers being allowed to feel it, examine it, fondle it.
I love my cunt
tirsdag 4. mai 2010
Sex obsessed? addicted?
It is an interesting phenomenon this passion for diagnosing everything.
I like sex. Sometimes I have many, many orgasms in one day. Brought on by myself or with the help of others.
I come from anal, vaginal or clitoral stimulation. When the right kind of pain comes along it takes very little for me to come.
A cane being used on my body, ass yes, but also the rest of it, not too hard but really stinging, and then suddenly a firm hand cups my pussy and squeezes and I go into orgasmic convulutions.
Sometimes I come in series that just go on until I reach a level of sensitivity where any touch at all actually becomes painful.
I need it often and I get it often. I will continue to get it as long as it's possible to attract a partner, and after that I imagine I will have to rely on mechanical solutions.
Does this make me sick?
I reject that idea. I simply like sex, am higher sexed than most people, however you want to put it.
It is my godamn right to pursue the holy orgasm in any fashion and as often as I wish!
All experts who find a diagnosis necessary, are kindly requested to attend to their own pityful sexlife and leave mine to me!
I like sex. Sometimes I have many, many orgasms in one day. Brought on by myself or with the help of others.
I come from anal, vaginal or clitoral stimulation. When the right kind of pain comes along it takes very little for me to come.
A cane being used on my body, ass yes, but also the rest of it, not too hard but really stinging, and then suddenly a firm hand cups my pussy and squeezes and I go into orgasmic convulutions.
Sometimes I come in series that just go on until I reach a level of sensitivity where any touch at all actually becomes painful.
I need it often and I get it often. I will continue to get it as long as it's possible to attract a partner, and after that I imagine I will have to rely on mechanical solutions.
Does this make me sick?
I reject that idea. I simply like sex, am higher sexed than most people, however you want to put it.
It is my godamn right to pursue the holy orgasm in any fashion and as often as I wish!
All experts who find a diagnosis necessary, are kindly requested to attend to their own pityful sexlife and leave mine to me!
mandag 3. mai 2010
Reflections on being an expat
I was 19 when I came here. A city in scandinavia (which some of my american readers need to be told is not a country). Until I was 19 I grew up a southern California girl.
When I came here I had just finished high-school and had planned to try to get into uniersity. It turned out not to be that easy. An american high school diploma is not very highky regarded here. I had to learn the language, I had to take several subjects from their high-school equivalent. The math and science was easy for me and I couldn't really see the point of having to do that again. The social science and history was an eye-opener. I had a good teacher and the subjects fascinated me.
The next year I did get in to university, and after 6 years (it was supposed to be five, a year got wasted in there somehow) I got my masters. Today I teach history and english in their school system.
I try to get to california at least once or twice a year to see my dad and his new family. I have also visited a few of my old friends from high school, and some of the difference between young americans and young europeans really have struck me as significant.
Here young people get a degree of freedom at an early age which is just unknown in middle-class america. That means they reach a level of maturity at a much earlier age, to me it was a strange awakening that led to conflict with my parents and when they left after two years here, there was no question in my mind, I was staying on.
I had fought hard I felt to get into university here, It had taken time for me to learn and adjust to my contempararies here, and of course I had also fallen in love with an older woman, so I was staying.
After a few years I went back to California and I attended a five year high school reunion. As that evening progressed I felt increasingly like an adult lost in a childrens party. People were in college, they still had no idea what they wanted to do with their lives. A surprising number of the girls still expected to be married, and viewed that was a carreer in itself. In the twenty- first century, that was incredible.
The only three who actually seemed to have some idea of who they were and what they would do was a girl in med school and two guys doing computer science.
My high school boy friend was still a clumsy lover, only his clumsiness was not so endearing any more.
The class jocks still had a pre-puberty type sense of humor.
When I was twenty-one, a young scandinavian girl turned me on to some of the classical American litterature. (Like Sinclair Lewis' Main street. I mention it because that book has become one of my dearest ones, I've read it three times now).
Among my classmates, one and only one ever read a novel for pleasure and she was in med school. Among the english majors the idea of reading a classical novel for pleasure seemed totally foreign.
Several were still living with their parents.
Quite a few of them were pro-Bush (the majority still democrats). Most seemed to have no particular grasp of the issues beyond the war which was discussed a bit.
In europe I've had an education in politics which is amazing. Of course having been very influenced by an older, wise man, my political views are quite cynical compared to most of my contemporaries here as well.
Last christmas I met a few of them again. The one I have a relationship with is now an intern and she got a few who were living locally together for a party and it is nice to be able to say that relative maturity came late to some, but it came.
There were times here that I thought of getting citizenship here. After Obama was elected Ihave postponed any decision on that.
There are things that I miss. The climate is the obvious one, and yes there are times when I do miss the best climate in the world, southern Cal weather.
The ease of getting along with people is another.
The art of small talk.
The laid-back tolerance.
The lack of moral judgements.
The hospitality towards strangers.
I miss those.
At the same time I am tired of this having to show respect towards any silly idea people may have.
I am an atheist! I think all religion is man made, and I have no particular respect for old myths being peddled as actual truth.
I think vegetarians are silly, and vegans must be idiots.
And I find it a lot easier to have these views here than in the US. I'm tired of people looking at me as something from outer space just because I say I am an atheist.
When I came here I had just finished high-school and had planned to try to get into uniersity. It turned out not to be that easy. An american high school diploma is not very highky regarded here. I had to learn the language, I had to take several subjects from their high-school equivalent. The math and science was easy for me and I couldn't really see the point of having to do that again. The social science and history was an eye-opener. I had a good teacher and the subjects fascinated me.
The next year I did get in to university, and after 6 years (it was supposed to be five, a year got wasted in there somehow) I got my masters. Today I teach history and english in their school system.
I try to get to california at least once or twice a year to see my dad and his new family. I have also visited a few of my old friends from high school, and some of the difference between young americans and young europeans really have struck me as significant.
Here young people get a degree of freedom at an early age which is just unknown in middle-class america. That means they reach a level of maturity at a much earlier age, to me it was a strange awakening that led to conflict with my parents and when they left after two years here, there was no question in my mind, I was staying on.
I had fought hard I felt to get into university here, It had taken time for me to learn and adjust to my contempararies here, and of course I had also fallen in love with an older woman, so I was staying.
After a few years I went back to California and I attended a five year high school reunion. As that evening progressed I felt increasingly like an adult lost in a childrens party. People were in college, they still had no idea what they wanted to do with their lives. A surprising number of the girls still expected to be married, and viewed that was a carreer in itself. In the twenty- first century, that was incredible.
The only three who actually seemed to have some idea of who they were and what they would do was a girl in med school and two guys doing computer science.
My high school boy friend was still a clumsy lover, only his clumsiness was not so endearing any more.
The class jocks still had a pre-puberty type sense of humor.
When I was twenty-one, a young scandinavian girl turned me on to some of the classical American litterature. (Like Sinclair Lewis' Main street. I mention it because that book has become one of my dearest ones, I've read it three times now).
Among my classmates, one and only one ever read a novel for pleasure and she was in med school. Among the english majors the idea of reading a classical novel for pleasure seemed totally foreign.
Several were still living with their parents.
Quite a few of them were pro-Bush (the majority still democrats). Most seemed to have no particular grasp of the issues beyond the war which was discussed a bit.
In europe I've had an education in politics which is amazing. Of course having been very influenced by an older, wise man, my political views are quite cynical compared to most of my contemporaries here as well.
Last christmas I met a few of them again. The one I have a relationship with is now an intern and she got a few who were living locally together for a party and it is nice to be able to say that relative maturity came late to some, but it came.
There were times here that I thought of getting citizenship here. After Obama was elected Ihave postponed any decision on that.
There are things that I miss. The climate is the obvious one, and yes there are times when I do miss the best climate in the world, southern Cal weather.
The ease of getting along with people is another.
The art of small talk.
The laid-back tolerance.
The lack of moral judgements.
The hospitality towards strangers.
I miss those.
At the same time I am tired of this having to show respect towards any silly idea people may have.
I am an atheist! I think all religion is man made, and I have no particular respect for old myths being peddled as actual truth.
I think vegetarians are silly, and vegans must be idiots.
And I find it a lot easier to have these views here than in the US. I'm tired of people looking at me as something from outer space just because I say I am an atheist.
A weekend as a pet
I'll call her "Anna", she is a woman in her forties, lives in a city a few hours drive from my home. She is sweet, dominant but not at all sadistic. She uses very little physical discipline, even if the stick is there it's mostly carrot.
She uses me as a pet. I love to be her pet.
Friday she picked me up after dinnertime and drove off with me curling up in the front seat of her enormous urban assault vehicle, leash in place. A rather tent - like dress covering my nakedness. It's a dress that makes me look like I'm covering up being fat. In reality it's perfect for transport situations. I'm covered if seen, but still very easily accessible.
We drive to her summer cabin on the coast and then I didn't see the dress again until the return transport late last night.
For the whole weekend I haven't uttered more than a very few words. I have whimpered and made all sorts of small sounds communicating my needs and reactions to her ministrations. I have eaten mashed food out of a bowl, and had my face lovingly cleaned afterwards. I have devoted myself to serving her with my mouth, I have passively taken certain implements into my body, and received as her gift to me several orgasms.
I have not pretended to be a dog or a cat or anything like that, I have just been her pet. Her girl-pet so to speak. Her devoted, affectionate, loving, cuddly little girl-pet.
I have cavorted around naked, mostly inside this time. (too cold still for a lot of outside play) and she has been training me in the begging for food and begging for sex positions.
She has exercised me.
I enjoy my weekends with "Anna", and look forward to the next.
I love you "Anna"
fredag 30. april 2010
Limits
A question that you constantly meet in the BDSM world is this: What are your limits. You are meant to answer with a number of code words which will tell your opposite what you are not willing to do. Implying of course that whatever you have not specified as a limit is something the dominant is free to do to you.
I have never been able to answer that in the supposed fashion. What should I say? scat, kids, blood but otherwise go ahead?
I sometimes say: I will not do anything that is likely to land me in either hospital or prison!
Still that doesn't really mean that whatever else you do is OK, does it?
When two people get together in our world to play a very pre-defined game that an SM session is, it has something in common with any "vanilla" sexual encounter people have:
If you don't know each other you have to talk and to slowly explore each other. Get to now each other. Read each others reactions, find out how to adjust to each other. Talk. Ask. Tell.
You may think it is all about an exchange of power, but it never is.
It is like life always is: The roles may be defined in advance, but you still have to adapt to each other and find all the subtle little ways of showing and reading each other.
That is why subtlety, refinement and sensitivity makes for good lovers, no matter what form the encounters take.
The people looking for women like me
They are indeed a varied lot. A strange group in many ways. A lot of men looking for a chat or camming session while they're hiding in their den, their wives ignorant of hubbies little hobby.
I don't mind that kind at all really, I just hate it when they're there pretending to be serious!
I can do a little chat now and then and pretend to be someones slave for a little while. It's fun, makes me wet, if the other person is able to express themselves in writing it can be great.
A lot of the people on sites like collarme seem to live their life online. I don't. Nothing is so revealing as somebody who's available online around the clock.
Unfortunately a lot of rather pathetic men hides behind the Dom, Domme or Master title they award themselves. Quite a few men who have failed in all relationships before and somehow manage to delude themselves into thinking if they can only find the completely compliant woman, a slave, then everything will be fine.
So what do they do? They go on collarme or another bdsm dating site, claim to have tons of experience, and hope to latch on to some girl who dream of submitting to them.
Too few dominants understand that it is not about barking orders like drill sergeants. To few dominants understand that women are still seduced by quiet refinement, intelligence and sensitivity.
Too few dominants are actually able to hit what they're aiming for, when they're wielding a whip or a cane.
Too few dominants have even a minimum understanding of anatomy to understand where on the body to use what implements. Do not hit the stomach or kidneys with bats, paddles or other blunt, heavy objects. It's dangerous.
On the soft belly, use the fine, cutting whip or cane. It hurts more stings badly, leaves nice welts and heals quickly.
Paddles are for soft, fleshy behinds!
Another problem frequently encountered: people who do not understand that to have someone living with you implies having a relationship way beyond the "I keep you in a cage and take you out to beat you and fuck you and then I put you back in cage" type imagined lifestyle. IT DOES NOT WORK LIKE THAT in the real world!
Also, having a slave girl living with you costs money! If you are a poor man forget it! You are not going to find that girl who will work and give you all her money and then take care of your house and needs, sexual and otherwise. The only possibility of finding that is if you find someone who is severely intellectually challenged! Come to think of it so are you if you believe that nonsense.
Also something that is important to me personally. I detest idiots and republicans. I can tolerate and even enjoy an old fashioned republican, but the modern variety are simply idiots, so if you like Sarah Palin or ever voted for Bush or think Glenn Beck is wise, please stay far away from me.
torsdag 29. april 2010
the Time-share slave
There was one day some time ago I woke up with that concept on my mind. In a sense it's very real. The way I arrange my life is somewhat different from most people. Over the last couple of years it has settled in a firm pattern.
It works like this:
I do not play in the city where I live and work! There I am a regular young working woman with a quite ordinary life.
There are a few people around, in neighboring countries mostly, who have become regular lovers. And lovers within that particular setting that an active SM relationship provides.
A few couples, a few single dominants of both sexes.
Most of my weekends are for them. Most of my shorter vacations are for them. Most of my summer vacation is for uncle Theo.
Sometimes I find new people in the US or in Europe to visit during summer or x-mas vacations. I find them on sites like fetlife and collarme.
Given the fact that I work. That I have many interests that I pursue, means that the time I spend online is limited, my time in general is limited,and consequently I am not really interested in finding a lot of new dominants.
I like the life I have now! I am not going to change it for the immediate future at least. As a matter of fact:
I love my life!
Background
Born in California I moved to scandinavia seven, soon eight years ago. My family moved when dad got a job here. He and mom left, but I had started my studies and preferred to stay.
I have always had a tendency to yield to the ones who are stronger than I am. I have always been stimulated by thoughts of being kept captive, used for the pleasure of others, displayed by someone to a public of strangers. All of this before I had any practical knowledge of sex.
When I was about eighteen I started putting names to my desires. When I read "the story of O" did I understand what I am. No book has had such a direct influence on my life as that one.
I had various relationships with people I tried to seduce into dominating me. Many a time I hinted at how a spanking might ignite something in me. Most times thefollowing spanking was rather tepid. One woman showed promise but ended up feeling guilty for abusing me. I ended up being a therapist to my Domme, telling her it was ok to whip my ass.
Things were lookin bleak.
Then Theo came into my life.
Uncle Theo. Almost thirtyfour years my senior. By all normal standards I should have rejected the very thought of taking him as my lover, even less falling in love with him.
The man who takes me to museums and has taught me about art, who also have taught me to savour the pain when he taks the bamboo cane and strikes my pussy.
The man who motivated me to go back and complete my master's degree and was an informed and intelligent mentor in the writing of my thesis. Not to mention the skills in editing the thesis and insuring that A.
The man who has taught me about food and fine dining.
The man who sometimes brings me series of orgasms that just go on and on.
The man who insisted I move away from him while I still felt this way about him. The man I visit whenever he calls, despite him being a journey away.
I love you uncle Theo
I have always had a tendency to yield to the ones who are stronger than I am. I have always been stimulated by thoughts of being kept captive, used for the pleasure of others, displayed by someone to a public of strangers. All of this before I had any practical knowledge of sex.
When I was about eighteen I started putting names to my desires. When I read "the story of O" did I understand what I am. No book has had such a direct influence on my life as that one.
I had various relationships with people I tried to seduce into dominating me. Many a time I hinted at how a spanking might ignite something in me. Most times thefollowing spanking was rather tepid. One woman showed promise but ended up feeling guilty for abusing me. I ended up being a therapist to my Domme, telling her it was ok to whip my ass.
Things were lookin bleak.
Then Theo came into my life.
Uncle Theo. Almost thirtyfour years my senior. By all normal standards I should have rejected the very thought of taking him as my lover, even less falling in love with him.
The man who takes me to museums and has taught me about art, who also have taught me to savour the pain when he taks the bamboo cane and strikes my pussy.
The man who motivated me to go back and complete my master's degree and was an informed and intelligent mentor in the writing of my thesis. Not to mention the skills in editing the thesis and insuring that A.
The man who has taught me about food and fine dining.
The man who sometimes brings me series of orgasms that just go on and on.
The man who insisted I move away from him while I still felt this way about him. The man I visit whenever he calls, despite him being a journey away.
I love you uncle Theo
The basic paradox
I am a free woman of 26, I am a slave.
I am a working woman in control of my own life, I am totally dependant upon those stronger than I am.
I have an active sex life and make my own decisions about whom I have sex with, I submit to a dominant person or couple and do their bidding.
I walk proudly into this world, I yearn for humiliation.
I am a slave
I am a working woman in control of my own life, I am totally dependant upon those stronger than I am.
I have an active sex life and make my own decisions about whom I have sex with, I submit to a dominant person or couple and do their bidding.
I walk proudly into this world, I yearn for humiliation.
I am a slave
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