Daddy's Tools

These are a few of Daddy's tools.

More specifically, these are reserved primarily for punishment.

There is the duct-tape handled implement made out of the coat hanger which I not so lovingly call "the ouchie thing", the giant flat wooden spoon/paddle, and the almost pretty-looking but ridiculously evil "red thing" which was manufactured to be a rug-beater. It is, now, a little-girl-beater.

I've written a lot about discipline and punishment lately, but the reality is that these are a big part of my own growth in my D/s journey lately. Daddy's ability and willingness to punish me have deepened my connection and submission to Her and have also allowed me to feel even more safe and cared for and contained.

Recently, She had me bent over Her knee and, while spanking me, asked me questions about my state of mind. Answers like "I don't know" or "maybe" or "I'm not sure" got me more and harder slaps with the back of the scrub brush she was paddling me with, so I was not able to answer without dropping any hesitation or beating around the bush. She asked me if I thought She had been too soft lately, too lenient, and I admitted, yes, after a series of hard smacks. She asked if I needed Her to be harsher with me, and again I admitted yes.

I notice that when She gets too 'easy' on me, it is harder for me to find that foundation, that ground that I stand on, that everything else blossoms from. It's up to me to continue to press myself to trust and surrender and let go and move forward. I just truly appreciate the way that my Daddy can empower me by being willing to deliver those corrections when they are needed.

Thank You Daddy, for correcting me.

Quickie?

I looked at Daddy, my lower lip sticking out just a little. Having just finished a Disoronno and Coke and feeling the warm, sensual neediness that always seems to follow a cocktail, my desires were unmasked on my face.

She knew what I wanted and She smiled at me, Her tone patronizing, "You know, if I give You what You need I'm just going to throw you on the bed and fuck you."

I couldn't tell if She was just warning me that She wasn't up to a lot of foreplay or if She was trying to turn me on, but my face must have given something away about my reaction to Her words because She continued...

"You know, use you up and toss you when I'm through with you..."

I could feel my insides churning, my clit involuntarily jumping with excitement at the idea of being used in this way.

"What do you need, little girl?" She asked, a coy and cocky smile playing on Her lips.

Without hesitation, I replied, "Your cock!", my voice almost a whimper.

She laughed. "Upstairs, little girl." and I jumped to scramble upstairs and begin my getting ready for bed rituals and smiled when I head the sound of Her footfalls on the stairs heading up behind me.

Teeth and hair brushed and washed up, I headed into the bedroom to find candles lit and a twinkle in Daddy's eye. She pulled my tank top up and over my head and then pulled my shorts and panties down, tossing them to the side and bent me over the bed until my forehead touched the mattress, my ass arched up and back, against Her thighs. I wiggled my bottom playfully.

"You thought I was joking, didn't you, little girl?" She asked, Her tone dangerous.

"Welllll... not exactly..." I hedged.

I stood up, fingers playing lightly along Her skin, seductively, but She shoved me back down causing me to land back on the bed on my bottom with a flop.

"You better get ready." She warned and reached under the bed and retrieved Her cock. I watched, fascinated as always, as She strapped it on and reached out to attempt to be seductive again, testing the waters, was She really going to just unceremoniously fuck me without preface?

Seconds later, She had lubed up Her cock, shoved me back on the bed, climbed between my spread legs and was aiming Her cock right against me and I knew, then, that one thrust later and She would seat herself all the way inside me - and indeed, without preface.

When I know Daddy is going to use me in this way, there is always a moment's fear. Will my body be ready enough to respond without too much pain? Will I be able to take Her huge cock in that one initial thrust? But something about the way that my body responds to Her and to this type of treatment almost always guarantees that I am, at least a little bit, ready for Her.

In a flash, She was inside me - this first thrust made it clear that things weren't as wet and slippery as they usually are and the dragging sensation only added to how taken and claimed I felt in that moment. And as my Owner's words began tumbling over me, Her mouth and voice grating at my ear, I knew that this was exactly what I needed.

She started off hard, fucking me, tearing the air out of my lungs with each thrust and I was instantly lost to Her. I needed to come so badly. I needed to feel lost and taken and owned and used all right in that moment. Over and over I was overwhelmed but Daddy was not about to let me come that easily. I begged, and She waited, but did not stop or slow.

She picked up the pace, in fact. She loves holding me at that edge when I am not allowed to come and have to focus to hold it at bay because it drives the intensity up exponentially. She likes to get me to the point where I am overtaken by desperation and can let it all go. And that is exactly what She was demanding that I be ready to do before She let me come.

It was hot and we were both sweating, already. Something about that added to the intensity as our bodies slid against each other so easily, the sweat lubricating all our skin so that it was slippery and sensual and raw and animalistic.

"You have to let it go, let it all go." She ordered, letting me know that until She could see that I was ready to do just that - to scream and cry and convulse beneath Her - She would not let me come.

She didn't hold back. She drove into me with near-painful speed and force. She grabbed my hair, pulling it back until my chin pointed behind me.

At one point, She shoved one finger into my mouth... or was it Her thumb? I don't remember, exactly - but I do remember that this seemed to do something fantastic to me. Something about the invasiveness of Her finger in my mouth makes me feel really taken and claimed and powerless. I almost craved more fingers, pressing into my mouth, stretching it open for Her. There was something that really triggered for me and my body went wild.

Not long after that, She covered my mouth and then my nose and fucked me harder until I was clawing at Her back for release - for breath and even more importantly at that moment - for the release of orgasm.

Only after long minutes of begging, of chanting "pleasepleasepleaseplease" over and over again like a mantra... only after She made me tell Her I was Her slave and Her whore and Her property - forever... only after She yanked a promise out of me to let it ALL go... did She finally grant me permission to come.

And I exploded. She fucked me while I came, and cried, and whimpered and clutched and clawed at Her. She demanded that I come again for Her, my Owner. She demanded I come for Her, my Daddy. She demanded I come for Her, my Wife and Love. She demanded I give Her everything I had in me at that moment. And, without hesitation, I surrendered my everything to Her.

We fell into a heap and I, unable to move, moved as close to Her as was physically possible, stroking Her skin lightly while Her fingers moved to draw out Her own much needed orgasm. She hadn't found precisely that perfect angle to come inside me, this time, but Her need was great and I moaned and twitched with aftershocks as I watched Her face and felt the pulsing of Her muscles as She tensed and then exploded with release - demanding I come with Her - an easy feat.

She rolled over, teasing me for my squirming, and moved Her fingers to my clit, still jumping and tense. She'd pulled orgasm after orgasm out of me from the inside while She fucked me, but my clit was aching as well and now She was offering, and then demanding that release as well as Her fingers moved in all of the exact right ways over my body. I was begging in seconds and happily obeyed Her when She demanded I come, many more times... more than I can count.

She'd been rough, and harsh, and intense. She was done with me now and got up, and, after washing us up, tossed me a pair of Her boxers, my favourite, for me to shimmy into - with Her help.

I snuggled up tight against Her, my body still vibrating, feather-light after such an exhaustive release, and drifted off to sleep not long after.

Yes, this was exactly what I had needed.

Of course it was.

Daddy knows best.

Tumblr

I decided to give Tumblr a try for quickie thoughts, pictures, quotes, links, etc. I've created a gadget which you can see on the right side of this blog if you want to view my posts from right here on my blog!

My Tumblr page is herlittlegirl.tumblr.com

Defiance

Life has been crazy lately. There have been numerous challenges in my Owner's and my world that had to do with things (and people) outside of our control. With all the outside stressors, the mood just hasn't been right for writing, though I do know that Syr fully intends to finish the story - I'm not always the most patient girl and that fantasy is hot so it's occupying a great deal of my mental attention.

I find that, true to form, with all the outside stress, I am in the mood for a fight. Not the literal kind of fight, but the BDSM kind of fight. I want to kick and scream and struggle and be taken down, hard. It may not be as physical of a fight as it sounds but there is that urge to just resist... to NOT surrender.. to be taken and not to let go until I am forced to let go, until I have no other choice. There is great release in these sort of exchanges. Syr has picked up on my mood and we've had a couple of playful exchanges where there was some struggle.

The other night, in just that mood, Syr quickly commanded my attention and ultimately my compliance by pressing two fingers inside my mouth in such a way that I could not squirm away from them. There was something invasive and hot and scary about this because, again, there was a loss of control. I fought, and I lost, though it was not overly physically taxing.

I think it's cyclical, this need to struggle, and to know that such struggles are ultimately futile by the way my Owner responds. It's one of those things that I used to do subconsciously, and unintentionally manipulative with previous relationships. Now, I am aware of it and try to make the mood known, to let my Owner know I'm in a defiant head-space, seeking a take-down... a release.

It doesn't mean that just because this is what I am aching for that it's what I'm going to get, but I often find that communicating it and being aware of it is what makes it a healthy expression and not a manipulative one. Defiant 'mood' or not, I am still going to take what I am given and if Syr is not in the mood to play that way, we play Her way. I just like to be aware when I'm in that head-space. It *can* and sometimes does bleed into otherwise mundane interactions and I can occasionally find myself snippier or short-tempered as a result of the energy I'm trying to calm on my own. This is where it can present a problem, but I think I've done a pretty good job (this time) of not letting that get the better of me and of, instead, communicating my mood and desires to my Owner to do with as She will.

Schoolgirl Fantasy

My Owner and I were having a blissful sort of day, yesterday. It was the kind of day where everything flowed and we were just, quite simply, on the same wavelength all day long.

We started our day with some fascinating conversation over coffee and the conversation carried us through the next several hours until it gradually tapered off. The afternoon was quieter and at one point we found ourselves sprawled out on a picnic blanket in a shady spot under a tree watching a movie on Syr's netbook.

The movie, itself, was an adorable british comedy, but pervy me couldn't help but perk during one particular scene where a young woman was wearing a schoolgirl outfit, but with thigh high black stockings underneath. Syr noticed my perv-moment and teased me about it.

She made some offhand comment about how I wouldn't know what to do with one of those (a girl like the one in the movie) if I had one. This is true, I admitted quickly. I have always been physically attracted to feminine women, with a particular affinity for adult cheerleaders and women in schoolgirl uniforms - the young and innocent look on a grown up girl is hot, hot, hot to me. But, I also am only physically attracted - at a distant. I have an affinity for the look but would be petrified if one were actually standing in front of me. These women are fantasy-material, only, for me.

Syr then continued on to say... "But I would". The way She said it made my nether-regions do a little flip flop and my reaction must have been clear on my face because Syr perked right up. She clued in on my response right away. I muttered something shyly about how at least I could watch.

A fantasy began to be born and my Owner teased me with it for the duration of our afternoon. It played into my fantasies big time. Instead of needing to know what to do with one of these girls I like to fantasize about, I could bring one to my Owner and watch my Owner overpower her, fuck her, blow her mind - all while I watched. It was so hot to think about.

It is the kind of fantasy that I could not have even allowed myself to mentally entertain a few years ago when I was still raw and wounded from my adventures in open relationships and polymamoury. I am a monogomous girl. This fantasy is exciting and hot because it's a fantasy. It is not the kind of fantasy I would want in reality - that's part of what makes it so hot.

And I kept thinking about it. A lot. I was squirmy. I'm a very visual person. And after more and more teasing, an idea for a story was born. My Owner writes excellent stories, and it has been a while since She'd written one just for me. She got home from our wonderful day together and started writing. I couldn't have been more excited!

By the end of the night, when it was time to go to bed, Syr had a few pages down and She let me read them. They were.... amazing. I am very, very, VERY eager for the rest of the story.

But even thinking about the fantasy and what was written so far had me incredibly worked up! It was nearly 2am by this time and I knew the possibility of doing anything but just crashing into bed was unlikely. But when we got upstairs, Syr snuggled up to me on the bed and started verbally telling me a possible version of the story, and how it might end. She talked and talked until I was moaning with need.... and then She ordered me to undress and She got Her cock and I nearly squealed with delight.

What followed was that kind of sex that happens when both partners are just in exactly the right, and same kind of right, frame of mind. It was raw and animalistic and hot in exactly the right kind of ways. She kept talking about bits of the story as She fucked me, and I was over the edge. I came like the fourth of July and I don't think I moved after until sometime late this morning.

I kept thinking about it today and couldn't help succumbing to an urge to revel in some naughty bliss once more... with a bag of plastic clothespins and a vibrator (and my Owner's netbook set to one of my favourite porn-tube sites). Yes, I was a naughty girl, but really.... it is to my Owner's credit that I am feeling so insatiable all over again, so quickly after being so thoroughly ravished...

Belonging

There is some part of me, some hungry and needy part of me that can only be satisfied by truly belonging to Another. Not, of course, belonging to just anyone, but a particularly special Someone who has earned my trust and my devotion, not by being rough and tough (although I certainly appreciate some rough and toughness), but by being sincere, tender, unashamed to be Themselves, honest, loving, and strong, who sees me as not just good enough - but exactly what They need.

I lived a lifetime of not quite good-enough: Not quite good enough to commit to, to be faithful/loyal to, to keep around, to be kind to, to treasure, to cherish, to truly love. And it wasn't so much that I was not quite good enough, but that I wasn't perceived as good enough, or rather that I wasn't treated as good enough.

But, what I didn't realize, is that the reason this was so, was not because I was somehow lacking, but because they were a poor fit for me, and I for them. In that light, it could just as easily have been perceived as them not being 'quite good enough' for me either. It is a bit like a poorly fitting shoe. Is it the fault of the foot, or the shoe that the fit is poor and why do we struggle so hard to shove our feet in the shoe anyway? When we do that, we end up with a misshapen, permanently damaged shoe, and often a permanently damaged and hurt foot. Lose-lose.

It is only in hindsight that I can see all the poor fits of my past and it is in reviewing them that I am able to look at my present, at the right fit, and realize how completely and perfectly it... fits.

Every part of me is fulfilled within my marriage. My little girl side has a loving and nurturing and firm Daddy. My slave side has a tender, strong, and wise Master. My conventional side has a loving and fair companion who never makes me feel 'less than'. My traditional side has a wonderful and appreciative Butch spouse who appreciates those little traditional/stereotypically housewife things that I like to do, not because I am a femme fulfilling a 1950's stereotype but because I am a woman who happens to just love the 1950's style housewife role.

I just feel very blessed to have the exact life that I want, that I have sought, that I need, and that makes me feel as if all of me has room to express and to be - exactly as I am.

Thank You, my Owner, my Daddy, my Wife, my Syr, my Friend, and my Love for being such a perfect fit.

Healing

Her hand was suddenly at my throat, fingers curling over the edge of my collar, holding it tightly, making me instantly aware of the pressure of Her knuckles against my throat.

She pulled me up from where I sat back on my heels until I was kneeling up on my knees, arched. She tilted Her hand until my eyes met hers, my chin up instead of down, making sure I was meeting Her intent gaze.

Unexpectedly, Her hand swung back and she slapped me across the face, not nearly as hard as it felt to me in the moment but hard enough to get the message across.

"Who owns you?", She demanded in a voice that required I think about the answer before giving it.

"You do, Syr", came my whispered and reverent reply.

"Who VALUES you?" She almost growled, Her eyes boring fiercely into mine.

I swallowed, the world around us having ceased to exist. "You do, Syr."

"Do you get to decide how much I value you?" She asked, sternly.

The significance of the question settled down over and around me like a blanket and I paused before I replied, "No, Syr."

"Who gets to decide how much I value you?"

"You do, Syr."

She paused, giving my collar (and my head) a little shake to emphasize the point. "Do not EVER undermine me by presuming that your value to me is any less than I say it is. Is that understood?"

The tears spilled over and trickled down my cheeks as I held Her gaze. "Yes, Syr" came my trembling reply. No sooner was my response out of my mouth than my Owner pulled me tightly against Her, holding me close while I cried against Her bare chest.

Safe...

Contained...

Loved...

Valued.

Difficult conversations

I've found that one of the hardest things about being in a 24/7 relationship is the difficult emotional stuff. We are each holding each other to a particular standard when it comes to communication and commitment to being our best.

My Owner had to have a difficult conversation with me today around one of my bad habits that She needs me to break, permanently, not only because it's unhealthy for me but because it's triggery for Her. This is, therefore, both a very serious relationship concern AND a D/s concern. There is a rule that I need to be obeying.

First of all, I just have to say, never underestimate the power of a stern lecture.

But seriously, sometimes being called on your stuff is hard. It's hard for both sides of power-exchange relationship. While I think all relationships would benefit from this depth of conversation and honesty with one another, power-exchange relationships require it in order to maintain a healthy balance between desires and functionality and true emotional/psychological health of both parties involved. The bottomy type person in the relationship needs to be able to speak up if the Toppy type person is doing something they are finding damaging/harmful (if the Toppy person doesn't know). The bottomy person has to be able to be clear about necessary boundaries, triggers, and emotional/psychological landmines that might need to be navigated around. The Toppy type person in the relationship has a responsibility toward making sure that they are not overstepping healthy lines, that they are keeping an eye out for the greater good of the bottom as well as the relationship, and that they are being vocal about what THEY need to feel safe/nurtured, etc as well. There are a zillion other communication needs as well... these are just some examples.

So, in this case, with a bad habit of mine the topic of conversation, some big stuff had to be discussed involving my Owner's personal background/triggers around it as well as my desire for help breaking the habit in the form of requested punishment. My Owner needed to know that I was as fully understanding of how this issue felt to Her emotionally and as fully committed to breaking the habit as I was desiring Her help with it. In other words, She needed to know that I wasn't just putting the responsibility on Her to 'fix it', which in a way I sort of was, but out of thoughtlessness/carelessness not ill intent.

But I find that conversations like this are tough. It's tough to hear that something you're doing feels harmful to your partner and it's tough to be held accountable and to be given responsibility and ownership over something and explained the consequences (both from a punishment perspective and a RELATIONSHIP perspective) if you can not fulfill your responsibilities.

In this way, I suppose, I feel far far more vulnerable in a power-exchange relationship than I ever did in former non-power-exchange relationships.

So today is sort of about that vulnerability. I don't feel 'scared', I just feel raw and sensitive and a little down on myself for the habit and contrite in a deep way. I don't know how to describe it..... just where my head is at.

Feeling soft

I am having one of those days where I just feel very soft and content and so safe and loved that I am almost scared. I don't suppose that makes any sense. I feel very open and vulnerable and I suppose in times like this, when I realize just how blessed I truly am, how held and loved and connected I am to my Owner, my Wife, my Daddy, that I get afraid of losing this feeling.

It seems a little silly, but mostly I'm just happy.

I have a partner, a lover, an Owner, a Daddy, and a Wife who I can share anything and everything about myself with and know it will be okay, that I will be safe. That is not something to be underestimated. I have shared myself before, only to find that I placed my trust either carelessly or prematurely. Knowing how safe I am makes me feel almost giddy and reckless.

I wonder sometimes at the magic that is being so completely and totally in love. It is one of the most powerful things there are in this world. So I suppose a part of me is luxuriating in a bit of revelling and just enjoying the moment in my life as a snapshot in a time of just... wonderfulness.

I am...

I am...

A little girl femme: Carefree and truly adoring of rainbows... butterflies... rainbows... pink... unicorns... and eating lucky charms for breakfast at work much to the dismay of my special-k and kashi-crunching coworkers.

A professional femme: A would-be workaholic intent on maintaining work-life balance and mostly succeeding, an office mouse and not a corporate climber. I'm most content in the guts of the business, working the business not watching it and have no interest in stepping into middle (or upper) management.

A pagan femme: My spiritual path lies mostly on the shores of Avalon with my like-minded Sisters but it also is on my Yoga mat and in dharma and meditation and a good old fashioned full moon circle.

A believer femme: I believe. I believe in people, I believe in the people I love. I believe in things that people tell me I shouldn't believe in - like Unicorns and fairies and dragons and true love. I'm not afraid to believe. I've been hurt like crazy for believing, and I will never stop.

A kinky femme: I am a submissive and a masochist but my masochism is never really just physical, there is always an emotional link or need or connection with the experience. I have had transformative experiences on the cross or over a bench or up on a rack and I continue to have transformative experiences every time I dive deeper into my submission and commitment to my Owner (who is also my Wife).

A shy femme: I'm an online socializer and am shy or timid (or ridiculously babbly and unfocused) in person. It's hard for me to make friends in person because I feel awkward and I trust people too easily and am too invested in their opinion of me. I am raw and real and this makes me vulnerable. But I am authentic and so the friendships I do make are genuine ones.

A romantic femme: I know I am a walking stereotype in some ways. I like to be the nurturer and the cook and the homemaker and the child-rearer and the white-picket fence gazer. I love old fashioned chivalry. I love romantic gestures. I'm that girl that swoons over hand picked daisies and a surprise picnic and thinks romance isn't about money but about heartfelt gestures that make me feel appreciated. I thrive on finding ways to let my one and only know how appreciated and adored she is as well, and this is part of the romantic thrill for me.

A mothering femme: Parenting is a part of my identity now, because it has - in so many ways - changed my outlook on life, my priorities, and my ability to deal with life and to accept responsibility for myself, my actions, and their consequences. Being a parent to these boys (young men now) has been and is one of the most rewarding things about my life.

A questioning, seeking femme: I'm always learning, growing, evolving and becoming. I fit best with others who are also on this path. Being on a growth path/journey in this life can be challenging... and it can be hard to make friends and then lose them as your paths go different directions or one moves on while the other has to stay a while. Growing hurts, but it's worth it.

A silly femme: no explanation required.

Beyond satiated...

What a week!

A few days ago, Syr and I were getting ready to head to bed.  I had already changed into my nightgown and we were both doing a bit of last minute fussing around the kitchen and living room to get everything buttoned down for the night.  Syr surprised me by suddenly pressing me against the wall and kissing me deeply, groping by body playfully at the same time.  I remember giggling like a young girl, feeling the way Her hands were sneaking under the hem of my nightgown and pulling away half-heartedly lest we get walked in on.  My timing was impeccable as a few moments later, we were no longer alone.

After having moved into the kitchen to get a drink, though, we were suddenly alone again and Syr wasted no time. This time, She pressed me against the kitchen counter, tugging my panties over my hips to just above my knees, Her fingers found the heat and desire there and She commented on my readiness for Her.  When am I not ready for Her?

She started manipulating my body in that expert way that She does and I was very soon whimpering with need and desire against Her mouth as She kissed me deeply, making it clear that She intended to have me right there.  But, then, she stopped.  She pulled away, reminding me that She owed me a spanking for an earlier infraction.  She leaned me over the counter, my bottom high in the air as She pressed my shoulders down.  She lifted my nightgown up over my hips exposing my bottom and delivered several quick, sharp, slaps that were intense physically but also psychologically in the way that my Owner had caught me so off guard.  She stood me up and pressed me back against the counter and proceeded to work me over with Her fingers until I came, shuddering against Her.  She knew that, in spite of the orgasm She'd just given me that left me breathless, She had only lit the fire of my need... and I could see that evil twinkle in Her eye that made it quite clear She had every intention of stoking the flames even brighter once we were guaranteed a bit more privacy.

She made me wait though... teasing me agonizingly by continuing our evening chores, wandering by me to kiss me - causing me to tangle myself around Her and pull Her closer, demanding more as our mouths and bodies intertwined.... only to pull away just as I started to lose myself again.  She repeated this again and again for likely only minutes, but it felt like hours.... before taking me upstairs to bed.

There, I knelt near Her feet.  She pressed my forehead down to the carpet in front of Her and set one foot on the back of my head, reminding me both verbally and nonverbally that I am owned.  She pulled me up and laid me down on the bed and fucked me quite silly.  It was luxurious how in synch we were. It was sensual but intense the way that our bodies connected. We were mentally in the same place at the same time and everything just worked smoothly and perfectly.  She ground Her cock into me, hard, and ordered me to cum as She did, and then continued to fuck me thoroughly until I came as many times as satisfied Her.  We both collapsed afterward, neither of us willing to move.  We lay tangled in bedsheets and towels, each on the wrong side of the bed and fell asleep just like that.

The following morning had me walking on air.  I was blissful but couldn't get the previous evening out of my head. It was like I was stuck in my memories. I was totally unable to focus. Just thinking about the way She had taken me, had me when and where and how She liked drove me to distraction until, on a whim, I took a risk...

I headed to the washroom on a break and, once settled in a private stall, did a physical check of my cunt, fully expecting to find what I did: swollen, hot... wet... and my clit hard and throbbing.  I gave in to temptation and tentatively began making slow circles over my sensitive clit. It was going particularly well and I bit down hard on my bottom lip as I replayed the scene shared with my Owner the previous evening.  A certain part of me, a naughty part, knew how thoroughly pleased my Owner would be at my brazen behaviour, even though I was risking a punishment for playing without permission.  I imagined telling Her about what I'd done while my fingers moved in faster, and faster circles.  I grabbed my own thigh, digging my nails in deep as my muscles clenched and I arched back.  I was remembering how Her cock felt as it plunged in and out of me, and I remembered the huskiness of Her voice when She growled.... "CUM!" in my ear and I did just that, holding my breath to keep myself quiet in case the public washroom had become occupied while I was distracted.  I pulled myself together, washed up, and straightened my hair before heading back to work, much more able to focus.

As I suspected, my Owner clearly loved hearing about my office debauchery.  I could see Her swell with pride at how driven to distraction the previous evenings ministrations had left me.  It was hard to feel too guilty knowing how much of a thrill She got out of my brazen rule-breaking.  Clearly it was a decision that, while naughty, brought my Owner pleasure. 

Days later, She was still making proud side comments in my ear along the lines of.. "10am in the bathroom, huh?" which made me blush and wiggle as I remembered and made Her grin and strut with pride.  I could feel the energy She put off when we snuggled.  There is a way She touches me when She's not yet done having Her fill. She grinds against me when She spoons me. She lets Her fingers linger longer on the back of my neck, and Her touch is more purposeful. It was like that yesterday into the evening.  

I had been bratting earlier in the car and She had threatened a spanking if I continued. Now, in my defense, until a few months ago, a spanking was often with Her hand or at worst a paddle and rarely a "serious" punishment. It was often a more playful one, the kind that was thrilling and erotic but not particularly disciplinary.  However, since the red thing (Our friend T calls it the Wife beater as He has a matching one so perhaps I'll call it that, too).... has been reserved for very serious discipline for the breaking of, well really one very specific rule.  Since the bratting earlier was something else entirely, I was NOT expecting Syr to take the Wife Beater down off the wall and tell me to roll over on the bed with my bottom in the air.  I resisted, arguing that I had no idea that had been what She was threatening.  Syr reminded me that She can beat me, with the Wife Beater or any other implement for Her own amusement, even if there have been no infractions. I felt this was very unjust, but couldn't argue that She HAD warned me. I just didn't realize what I was being warned about at the time.  So, I did roll over, but not without a bit of 'encouragement' from Her hand in my hair.

She did not hold back and, as usual with the Wife Beater, I begged and sobbed and She still did not stop until She'd gone past what I could handle, making sure the message was loud and clear. I had no say, I am an owned slave and my Owner may do what She wishes with me and this was for my greater good.  I was, as always, grateful even through my tears but She did not hold me for quite as long this time.  Instead, She left me to my tears and before I realized what was happening, She was pulling me up onto my knees, my hot and stinging bottom toward Her as Her cock nudged against my cunt. 

She marvelled at how much of a contradiction it must feel like for me to be so contrite and tearful while my pussy was so hot and wet and ready for Her.  I can't explain how the discipline that She provides can be so intense and truly physically painful and emotionally taxing and yet leave me so ready for Her, so aching for Her... but it does. And this is the first time She has taken advantage of that since She introduced true corporal punishment into our dynamic months ago.  She wasted no time plunging Her cock into me, letting my stinging bottom smack against Her.  I felt so taken, so thoroughly owned, and this position is particularly intense due to the size of my Owner's cock.  She did not hold back as She tangled Her hands in my hair and pulled me roughly back onto Her again and again before ordering me to cum.  

After just one orgasm, She ordered me onto my back and took me that way.  She was merciless and rough but tender as always in the ways that matter. It's so hard to describe how well balanced we are in bed.  The way that She maintains control and intensity and makes me feel so thoroughly claimed and submissive, fully surrendered - and yet can touch me so gently and kiss me so passionately.  Sometimes i feel like being this in love and this fully devoted to each other is a walking contradiction to the intensity of an Owner/slave dynamic but my Goddess - it really works.    

Syr worked me over with Her cock for over an hour.  I lost count of how many times I came for Her. I remember the desperate way I clung to Her body, the times She made me wait and beg as She moved slowly and the times She moved faster than I thought possible piling my orgasms on top of one another like building blocks.  I remember the point I reached when I thought my clit was on fire and She sat up and away from me, bringing my own hand to my clit and ordering me to get myself off, as I had in the bathroom the other day, but this time while She moved Her cock inside me.  I came explosively after that, and again... and again.  I was sobbing while She fucked me with the biggest emotional release I've had in some time.

When I woke this morning, I could barely move. Every muscle in my body hurts, including ones I didn't know I had.   She so thoroughly decimated me last night that my libido is almost nonexistent.  My body is almost devoid of sensation in the wake of the sensory overload of the last few days and I am...

totally....

satiated.

Chores and embedded D/s

My Owner requested an update on how I'm feeling about my chores.  It's been a while now. I'm not sure how long I've had daily little 5 minute minimum chores every day, but it's a pretty embedded routine now.

I think that there have been times that my consistency has been better (or worse) than at other times, but for the most part, I'm really keeping them in mind all the time.  Some days I do quite a bit more than 5 minutes in each room. Some days, I do just about 5 minutes exactly.  And, there have been days that I've spent just a few moments.  But I've also noted that if I have missed a chore for any reason, that I often play "catch up" and clean any rooms I've missed at my next opportunity, so I think I feel a certain degree of ownership over the chores and making sure they get done.

It is a small but constant routine, though, that reminds me that I am doing them because I am owned and it is an expected service. This, alone, has done wonders for my mindset because it is an anchor point for when I first get home from work. And since I have an anchor point at bedtime, too, with the sleeping collar and ankle-cuff/chain combo - I have an anchor point at either end of my workday evenings. This has been really helpful. Weekends are a little bit more relaxed as I generally am only supposed to be doing the laundry-folding, but I often find myself a touch more service oriented on weekends, anyway, since I have additional time.  I make sure to make my Owner's coffee most of the time on weekend mornings, for example.

I never thought I'd "like" chores, but the reality is that I have a sense of accomplishment for the little ways that this keeps our home more straightened up in the little ways that can more easily be neglected.  And it has made my Owner feel more nurtured which is a huge perk.

All in all, I'm still really happy with them and so glad my Owner implemented them and that I followed through.  We've really reached a new place with our D/s where it feels much more 'embedded' into our day.  Between chores, bedtiime rituals, punishments, and such I am a lot more mindful of my place in the household and relationship on a more ongoing and consistent basis.  This comes in handy when there is tension! ;)

An example....  Last night, Syr asked me to declutter my little shelf next to where my computer lives and - without over-analyzing - I totally reacted badly .... well overreacted really and was all kinds of out of line with tone and word-choice and stuff. I was getting so mad and upset and after arguing with me a bit, right in the middle of a tense moment, Syr just finally looked at me and said "You need to stop right now, go sit down on the couch and be quiet for a few minutes".  I just looked at Her, the urge to say something, ANYTHING, was so strong. I opened my mouth and then shut it again and went and sat down.  I felt as if I had been put on a 'time out'.  So I just sat there quietly and thought about my behaviour (and obviously quickly realized I'd been behaving badly).  Then, I had to fight the urge to try to "fix it" by offering an apology. I reminded myself that if Syr asked me to sit quietly for a few minutes, then Syr would tell me when it was time to talk again.  I was actually mentally playing through all the scenarios of how long that might be. I pictured Her keeping me on 'quiet time' until it was time to sleep and how I would kneel by the bed but still not say anything (even apologize - eek hard!) until She told me to get into bed..... I went through all the possibilities and told myself that no matter what I was going to be quiet until She invited me to speak again, because that was all about trusting the order She'd given. It was really quite the mental process and I was actually really proud of how trusting I was able to be at that point.   Thankfully, after about five minutes, Syr asked me some questions about the argument and i was feeling very softspoken and contrite and was able to answer Her questions respectfully.  When She was done, I paused for a few moments and then apologized, sincerely, for my bad behaviour.  And we went to bed, both content with how things had been resolved.  

This sort of interaction just wouldn't have happened like this even a few months ago.  But the more embedded the D/s gets into our day to day world, the easier it gets to allow it space when it is needed.  I feel very grateful for this new level of consistency and reality within the power exchange of our relationship.

Sleeping soundly

I've been sleeping very soundly, recently.  I credit a number of things for the renewed sense of security and restfulness that I wake up with each morning.

Among these is my deeper sense of submission and obedience that has been unwavering since my epiphany a few weeks ago.  Trust, faith, and service come easily or at least easier these days, and it is as if I am more in touch with myself.  I am more self-aware and more able to curb negative behaviour patterns before they even start.  Moments that, pre-epiphany, would have certainly led to a great deal of tension or even an argument instead seem to more often morph into conversation, most of the time shortly after I have voluntarily sat or kneeled down on the floor in front of my Owner to continue the discussion.

And along with this new sense of ease with my submission, there is an increased self-confidence and pride in my ability to overcome the negative habits of my past - which then makes it even easier to continue along this path.

And then there are rituals that have been very, very good for both of us.

There are the chores that I have written about, previously, that are becoming almost automatic. They are nearly habitual - though I still have to make a conscious effort to remember each day, the remembering is easy.  Coming home from work, my chores are nearly always the very first thing I do. And as I complete each task I am reminded of my role in the household and to my Owner, and garner a deep sense of satisfaction from knowing I am being a very good girl - and without prompting or reminding from Syr.  I have also noticed that my chores act as a segue between my work day and my at-home evening.  The 15-30 minutes of quiet activity give me time to clear my head and shake free lingering stresses from my work day and slip into the softer energy and role I have in our home.

Of course, I have already written about the introduction of more serious forms of punishment into our dynamic.  Syr has been unfailing in Her follow-through in this area and I am eternally grateful for the solidity that this has granted.  I have found myself even more surprised, in an amused sort of way, at my compulsion to confess infractions - even knowing what awaits me as punishment.  She has not held back from delivering on promised punishments even when mundane/vanilla life circumnstances could have distracted Her. The other night, for example, I had confessed to the breaking of a rule and knew I had a punishment coming. I fell asleep that evening on the couch while She played on the computer and when She took me upstairs to bed, a part of me was convinced She had forgotten, but She hadn't and She followed through in spite of the lateness of the hour and how sleepy we both were. I am grateful for the consistency because it is working.  A rule I used to struggle on a near hourly basis not to break, I am suddenly only breaking a few times a week, sometimes less. It's a big success because it has been a very long-standing bad (mostly subconscious) habit.  And I know that these punishments will eventually extend to other broken rules or infractions as well and I find that I am still so grateful for that and so glad for the boundaries it has created.

And then there is bedtime...

Syr recently began putting me in a simple collar every night for sleeping. The collar was bought, intended to be a "sleeping collar", and has been a wonderful anchor point in our day.  At bedtime, I kneel by the bed, and other than my position it is not an overly formal moment.  It is just that it is intimate and real and potent for me to remember my place each evening before I go to sleep.  The click of the collar snapping shut never ceases to jolt me sharply with the reminder that I am owned, always.

And even more recently, Syr had the idea to begin chaining me into bed each evening. I embraced this idea with a great deal of enthusiasm. I was so sure I would love it - and I did.  Syr very subtly attached the chain leash to a steel post in the base of the bed in such a way that the chain is very easily hidden and can stay set up at all times. On the clip end of the chain is a single ankle cuff.  Each night after my collar is put in place and I have been given permission (whether verbal or nonverbal) to climb into bed, Syr attaches the ankle cuff and I feel the coolness of the chain and the security of my restriction.  And I sleep..... like a baby.

To avoid disturbing Syr in the morning, I remove the cuff myself when I wake in the morning, and if She is sleeping soundly, I will remove the sleeping collar myself too, though most mornings - She does that, even if groggy.  This doesn't take away from the meaning of the two things as I have not once sought to remove either item before the appropriate time and I am being held willfully after all. The collar and cuff are something I look forward to every night.

These rituals have their part to play but I know that it is a combination of all these things that have led to this increased sense of peace and security in myself and in my relationship with my Owner.  It's always been there, it's just that I'm more in touch with it now.

I'm so in love.

Awareness

Ever since this new shift in our dynamic, I have been finding myself increasingly aware of the way that I act and talk to my Owner. I mean, it seems like basics, right? But it's so easy to become complacent.

It's not something I'm forcing, but it's happening naturally.  Syr says She would really like a coffee while we're running around doing errands. She never says another thing about it, but when we get home, I just remember and make Her a coffee.  It's little service things like that that are becoming increasingly natural for me to do.

When it comes to speaking, I'm a nitpicky personality and it can be habit for me to make little comments about annoying little household maintenance things. Often, I'll just make a quick little flippant comment and go about my day.  It's not one of my more attractive qualities, though, and I'm fairly confident not one that Syr finds particularly charming.

In any case, this morning while stumbling into the kitchen to make coffee, I noticed the lid to the sugar dish had been left off, again. I wasn't really very awake and started to say something about it and then just stopped. Like I literally started to make a flippant comment and the first syllable was out and then my mouth snapped shut.  I knew I had to find a better way to say it ... but it took four open mouth to speak then stop moments to find the respectful tone I was searching for in my not-yet-caffeinated brain.  I found it, though, and my Owner, while partially amused at all the stops and starts, noted that I often make those types of comments without thinking at my most awake of moments and here I was, groggy and by all rights should be at my worst for being able to pay attention to things like tone and yet... I had.

Boundaries seem to make a significant difference in things like attitude and the ease with which I might move into and out of 'service mode'.  One could argue that, as Her slave, I should be in service mode at all times, but we're realistic and there is a difference between being 'willing' to provide service to my Owner when She asks for something (which i almost always am) and being eager to.  The moods where I am "eager" to provide service are certainly mood based and usually these modes are when I'm going way above the call of duty. What is cool is that these moments are happening more and more frequently to the absolute delight of us both.

A little later on this morning and into the early afternoon, I was having a wierd day mood-wise so I was feeling sassy and bratty. I was feeling off kilter, out of balance, and generally just sorta off and on grumpy.  It wasn't a big deal at all but when Syr got home from work I just was struggling hard to find that little place. Syr wasn't minding too much the place I was in. She enjoys having a bratty submissive at times. She doesn't want me always on perfect behaviour. She likes the take down as much as I enjoy it on occasion and we've gotten good at communicating when She's in the mood to be amused by bratty behaviour and when it's way out of line.

But, She also recognized in the midst of my bits of brattiness this afternoon, that I was not entirely comfy being in a bratty headspace.  So, when I was kneeling in front of Her in the living room and made a smart-ass comment, She slapped me across the face - hard - and smiled, certainly sadistically, as my brattiness bottomed out and I tumbled deep into the recesses of my submission once again.  Moments later, breathless, I begged Her to take my breath and She happily complied, sealing my mouth and nose tightly with Her hand as I struggled and then, released me. As I gasped, She pulled me tight against Her and I floated once more in the submissive place I had been struggling to find, unable to resist brushing my fingers against the heat still lingering on my cheek.

She'd had Her fun with my brattiness, and knew when it was to my benefit to make it stop - and She did so with astounding efficiency.  And lo and behold, it wasn't but an hour later that I was happily giving Her a bit of a mini manicure, doing laundry and dishes and puttering happily around the house.

I love my life.

The power of a sore bottom

I have a very, very sore bottom today.  I broke a rule yesterday, while I was at work, and confessing the breaking of it did not absolve me of a deserved punishment when I got home.

My Owner had me pull my pants and panties down, exposing my bottom, and lay face down on the bed. I've taken to grabbing a nearby pillow for these disciplinary sessions to muffle my cries.  She used "the red thing" (which has yet to have a proper name but in its former life was intended to be a plastic japanese-style rug beater).  And I begged, pleaded, cried and still the blows came.  She stopped when I was sobbing and quite contrite, my bottom burning from the sting of the punishment She'd delivered.  After, She held me and reminded me of the reason for my punishment before having me pull my panties and pants back up so that we could go out for the evening.

Words can not describe how different ... and how deeply contained and truly owned I feel knowing that She is willing to discipline me in this way.  It's not something either of us really had experience with. I'd been punished before but somehow, those always felt as if I had a measure of control - both with Her and in previous relationships. It always felt like discipline would be within a sort of jointly acceptable "comfort zone" even if unpleasant.  But these implements being used of late to discipline me are not comfortable, and more so I find that She doesn't stop simply because I beg for Her too. My attempts to say "wait... just a break for a moment..." or whatever it is I am pleading while She is delivering a punishment fall on deaf ears and there is something so ... powerful about that.  There is NOTHING about the experience of being on the receiving end of this discipline that I have any control over whatsoever. I realize that this is exactly how it SHOULD be, but my Owner and I are learning much of this together.  I came into the relationship with more kink "experience" but that mostly amounted to past relationships which had few similarities to this one. My relationship with my Owner is many things but it is deeper, more complete, more absolutely connected than any from my past and so things still need figuring as we go along.

The power of this recent journey into corporal punishment was confirmed for me when later that evening, due to lack of sleep and a number of other factors, I got distracted and broke the same rule a second time.  In absolute honesty, I was feeling little but I was also very zoney and distracted.  We were with company but we were in a situation that required vanilla context. Despite the stingy soreness of my already punished bottom, I didn't pay close enough attention and made the same mistake I had made earlier that day.  I will admit that, mostly since this whole punishment thing is new, I really thought that my Owner would overlook it. She is only really recently starting to play with the feeling of actual sadism. In the past, the major driving force behind Her enjoyment of hurting me has come from the effect it is having on me. But, more recently, She has been discovering some of the darker joys to be had in enjoying it because She actually LIKES hurting me.  In any case, much of this is new enough that I really didn't think She would punish me in such a harsh physical way twice in the same evening.  And, I also really sort of thought that since it was so late at night and so tempting to just tumble right into bed that She would forget or get distracted or just decide She wasn't up for it.

I was wrong.  She assured me I would be punished before bed and even though we spent the next hour or two talking about mundane things, when we went upstairs, She had me strip to my bare bottom and lay down in the same place on the bed.  I found this surprising, and equally surprising that She did not go a bit 'easier' on my poor, already sore bottom.  Amid my tears, I felt a new wave of something - and at the risk of sounding offensive would say it was like a deeper core level of respect.  She wasn't going to forget and She wasn't going to be inconsistent. These were hard lines... boundaries She had drawn and She was fully intending to hold them.  There is nothing for me to do but surrender, and trust.  And that is a really powerful thing.

My bottom is still so sore today, and I am astounded that I can feel such immense gratitude, such overwhelming containment, such purity of submission and even pleasure at the effect of the punishment - and yet be so absolutely terrified of the punishment itself.  I have ascertained that this combination means that the punishment is WORKING, but the juxtaposition of my emotions is still so fascinating, which I suppose must be fairly obvious to those who read this blog since I have so repetitively been writing about this topic. ;)

Processing a meltdown

My Owner asked me to write about an emotional meltdown that I had the other night. In part, this is because I had a pretty intense reaction to something and She wants to make sure that I have really thought it through and processed what happened and why. And, in part, I think She's looking for further insight into what might have caused such an episode.

Having had some space and time from it, as it happened on Thursday night, I am definitely in a better place to be able to really evaluate it and so I spent a great deal of time thinking about it last night and this morning, so here goes.

Thursday night, Syr and I were working on transferring some files over from a borrowed hard drive onto ours.  The download was going to be rather lengthy and therefore my computer was out of commission, for the most part, during the file transfer.  I had come home from work and spent the majority of my evening cooking a lovely dinner for my Owner and family as well as preparing a couple of desserts to bring to a dinner party we would be attending the following evening.  Tired and distracted after cooking, I plopped onto the couch and habitually/instinctively pulled the table my computer was sitting on closer to me like I usually would if I was about to do something on it.  But, unlike any other time I have done this, there were cords and borrowed equipment attached to it and along with the computer came the borrowed hardware that had been set up on a second table and it fell to the floor with a very large and shocking thunk.

You know that sick feeling you get when you just KNOW that it's not going to be okay?  It was like that. I instinctively and immediately knew I'd busted the thing.  It was confirmed when the file transfer suddenly shot up all kinds of errors.  We tried to see if it was just a file transfer interruptus problem or if it was a hardware problem but either way, the data was messed up.  Thankfully, we knew we had the means to replace the hard drive AND we knew the data on it was completely backed up in another location so we THOUGHT it would all somehow work out. But I, steely calm while we tried to fix it, was freaking the heck out inside.

Syr had me call the friends we'd borrowed it from to break the news.  Our friends were wonderfully understanding.  So much so that I suddenly burst into tears, was unable to talk, and handed the phone to my Owner who wrapped up the call and then tried very hard to be patient while I completely melted down.  I was a sobbing, pathetic wreck for quite a while and Syr and I had a few tense moments while She tried to figure out what was going on.  I couldn't articulate just why or how I felt SO badly but I really did.

Later that evening, once I'd calmed down, even I was surprised at how upset I had gotten over something that was so clearly fixable but I just really had felt terrible.

In retrospect, a few things became clear.

1. My hormones were *raging* which was totally confirmed when I started my period today. LOL.  In all seriousness, I get crazy mood swings in the few days leading up to my period. Sorry if that's too much info, dear readers, but its the truth!

2. I had been, for whatever reason, in MAJOR service mode at the time this happened. I'd been in that sort of mood where I want to cook something delicious and fabulous and pretty and fancy for my Owner (which I had just done) and also make something for our friends that would make Her proud of me.  I love doing things like that and these things often make me feel very little, submissive, and very very invested in the opinions and pride of my Owner - which can and often does sometimes leave me particularly sensitive to doing ANYTHING wrong or making even the slightest (correctable) mistake.

3. My Owner had suggested earlier that evening that I avoid going on my computer during the file transfer. It hadn't been an order, and if nothing had gotten broken would have not been a big deal at all that I went on the computer, but that really stuck in my head and I kept feeling as if I had disobeyed Her and ALSO broke our friends stuff.

4. Totally unrelated to the hard drive incident at all, some stuff is going on with one of my other friendships that, while not at the forefront of my mind that day, was certainly lingering on my mind and the bits of stress floating around about that might have really left me feeling more raw and sensitive than usual.  I am doing something new with the stress going on there in really taking more time than I am used to, to figure out what the next steps are and that's not something I have any experience with and sitting in a place of ambiguity can be really quite challenging for me and would certainly be playing a part in some underlying stress.

Really, all three things combined left me RIPE for a melt down and I think partially I just was really tender and ready for something to trigger a really good cry anyway.  I really think, in hindsight, that if only one of those factors had been at play, I would have not gotten SO upset, but the combination of all four was just killer.

Having gone out today and gotten the replacement drive for our friends and with the file transfer in place from the backup source to replace the data that was lost - it all seems so silly that I got so very upset, but it was what it was.   I actually feel a lot more sane, now, realizing how many different factors were at play at the time.  It seems to make more sense that I got so devastatingly upset about something that - in the grand scheme of the world - was really not that big of a problem.

"Take what you're given, slave"

My Owner is fucking me, hard and fast when suddenly, She stops for a moment. Pausing, She looks at me and waits for my whimper of need before slowly beginning to move once more. Only now, She deliberately moves in long, slow strokes - teasing me and building anticipation.  I arch up, pressing my hips up, arching, trying to take Her deeper, digging my fingernails into Her ass, begging wordlessly for more.. faster.  And She replies by stopping and issuing a warning. "Take what you're given, slave. Just relax.. breathe.. and take what you're given."  And as She speaks the words my body lets go of held tension and relaxes, melting, surrendering to each stroke, realizing that She is in control, always, and in trusting Her, the sweetest bliss is achieved.


Her reminder to take what I am given is, in these moments, incredibly sexy and intoxicating, but I'd not paused to consider its implications in the rest of our interactions.  As long time readers of my blog will know, I struggle with a tendency to try to "help" by micromanaging or subconsciously manipulating a situation to achieve a desired result.  While i'm happiest while in full surrender, giving myself over to trust, years and years of bad patterns built the impulse to try to control, first.  My Owner is doing a wonderful job helping me in this regard, but sometimes it's frustrating.

Today, Syr mentioned the possibility of a reward for good behaviour. Immediately, I began imagining what a reward might look like in light of the recent punishments. I had visions of good girl spankings and special service related rewards like a night in full collar service despite the possible impracticalities of my fantasy. These visions stuck in my head and lingered there.  And so, later this afternoon when Syr told me what some of Her ideas might be for a reward, I tried to "help".  In the moment, I thought my intention was to let Her know there were other options than those She'd mentioned that would not cost any money.  But, it made my Owner feel, instead, as if I was dismissive of Her ideas in lieu of my own.

I got so upset, because I really thought my motives were good - just trying to help.  But after frustrating Her and I think making Her angry, I had to take some time to think it over (as She had to go to work).  I was really distraught at first trying to figure out what was so 'bad' about having made suggestions.  And then I looked at the whole interaction again, mentally, this time from the position of "impartial observer" (or at least tried to), and instantly spotted the problem.

From this mental observer position, I could clearly identify that I had some little fantasy in my head and so was trying to steer (read: micromanage.... control) Syr toward the fantasy.  I didn't even have a clear idea of what that fantasy was or looked like or the different ideas within the general theme of "D/s reward" and so it was ambiguous, which of course would be frustrating.  I totally get in hindsight why my Owner was frustrated and angry about my behaviour.  In Her shoes I would have felt like I was being given a very narrow window of options to choose that would be "acceptable" and that is NOT my role.  And, in any relationship, is an unnecessary trap to put one's partner in.

And so after thinking all of this through for about thirty minutes, I remembered my Owner's reminders to "take what i am given" in the context described at the beginning of this entry. I realized that I need to work on this in our non-sexual encounters more. How ungrateful of me to try to micromanage a reward that She was considering offering me for when I am a good girl!  It must have felt yucky, indeed, to get such a stingy response from Her little girl.

I feel disappointed in myself for that, now, and wish I had been able to slip into the observer mindset sooner in our interaction as I think I could have then avoided the tension I caused by my short-sightedness.  And now, since my Owner is at work, I am left to stew a bit in my own misbehaviour which never feels very good.  

But the lesson I am taking away from this is to work to integrate a deeper sense of gratitude and "take what I'm given" trust-mentality. When my Owner does something nice for me (whether it be cooking dinner, or helping me with a chore or offering me a reward), I want to be a good little girl and let Her know how grateful I am - not nitpick or catch myself subconsciously manipulating for something different or "better".  As always, awareness is key.

Fresh look

Blogger has some neat new template customization possibilities that I intend to explore a bit further. For now, I'm trying this new layout on for size.  Let me know what you think!

I'd also really like some feedback on some options for the little check boxes at the bottom of each entry. I love the idea of getting quick feedback on posts from readers who might otherwise not comment.  If any of you are inclined to give me some ideas, that would be lovely.  I think insightful and hot are both keepers, but I'm not really very sure about the others.

I am so happy right now. I don't have time for a lengthy post today, but I am just feeling so contained and so aware and connected to my Owner. My daily chores feel like service, more than ever, and I'm not sure how to describe the difference.  I know that, now, I feel more slave-like as I do them, but am not sure that really makes sense.

I just mostly feel very much, myself.

Ouch

I am in a very very little head space right now so I know my ability to form really coherent thought is probably a bit lacking.  So I'm going to keep it as simple as possible...

My bottom hurts.

I was disciplined after work today for some bad behaviour, and as I tried to explain to Syr afterward, it's not that previous punishments haven't felt like punishments (they have) or made me feel contrite (they have!), but the shift to a punishment that is physically really and truly unpleasantly painful has made me realize what a difference it can make.  

And when I say it was unpleasantly painful, I mean that it really was.  She used the new evil implement ($2 rug beater turned slave beater) and not at all conservatively.  She swung hard and I don't know how many times but I know that when She told me to stop squirming, I started crying harder because I was finding that an impossible task but then I went flat down on my tummy and that seemed to work because there was no where for me to go and Syr could still get at my bottom with the evil thing.  She held me afterward while I sobbed and reminded me what the punishment was for and gave me some instructions.

My bottom still stings a great deal and I feel such complete and utter adoration and gratitude for my Owner.

My Owner has a Friend

Okay, more specifically, my Owner has a Toppy/Dominant/Daddy-type friend. This is both really really fun because said friend's little girl and I are BFFs so the fun of doing stuff altogether is really really excellent.

The two of Them sharing ideas .... and giving each other implements as gifts and just generally sharing in each other's evilness... that part is both a little intimidating (eeks) and yet also exciting.

The four of us spent the afternoon/evening together last night.  As soon as we got there, T had to show Syr a dollar store find (a very solid, flat-backed bathroom scrub brush) which He then GAVE to Syr since they were planning to go back to the same store later.  Meep.

And then of course, one of the highlights of our plans that day was a trip to a nearby bargain store that is two stories and has a very wide variety of Japanese-inspired things.... everything from dishes and housewares to kids toys and crafts.  The haul of BDSM-intended goodies was pretty impressive on both T & l's side and Syr's and mine.

Syr came away with what looks like a giant wooden spoon where the spoon part is very flat and big enough to cover one butt cheek on a stroke and a really cool plastic (that looks like bamboo) rug beater thing - turned slave beater. This thing has no wind resistance and one day I will take a photo of it.  Syr of course had to buy one for T too.  Syr also pointed out the long pieces of real bamboo and some long, very very wickedly thin pieces of coated metal - intended as Orchid supports (from the garden section) which T ended up picking up.  Other finds included a small solid wooden hairbrush (for Syr) and a new, inexpensive dog collar with a quick release snap for me to be able to sleep in (which we forgot but Syr took me back out to get it today), and very sturdy baby pins for T (of which he gave TWO to Syr who then bought a pack of Her own today).

Regarding the pins: T gave Syr the idea a week or so ago to keep a safety pin on Her at all time (on Her pants/belt loop). It's quite discreet and when I need a quick correction, a subtle but effective poke with the pin brings me right back into line.  So, He gave Her a few regular safety pins and it had been working really well.  So, when we were all at the discount store, He found some sturdy baby pins and gave Her two of them. They were much stronger (and sharper) with much less risk of them popping open while Syr was wearing them.  She liked them so well, She got some more of Her own today.  They hurt much worse than the basic safety pins from before and She really likes using it on me.

After shopping, we all headed to dinner and then back to T & l's place for coffee and treats.  Of course, once there, both T and Syr had to try out their new implements on us and, well, ouch!  I think Syr really enjoys these little opportunities to be more open and expansive with the kink thanks to -

Friends are good!!! I love spending time with T & l.   And, I can't honestly decide if the implement and tip-sharing extravaganza that is going on is fun or is scary.

But.. I have to admit.. it IS hot.