Sunday, March 29, 2015

things that make little tingle


Sir used to do this to me every time He had me (albeit without panties). The last lime he tried something that i must say was my fave.

I have had to fight some demons of the hogtie..and I don't think I ever told Him (He'll know now). It sounded so silly to tell Him, dramatic, but I was much younger when the demons were born and He worked hard to win my trust.

Now ... I just tingle








Thursday, March 26, 2015

task: bare breasted drive

From across the ocean I received a task:
On my way home, it's early evening and the weather has become cold. Summer is over and Autumn is here.

I turned off the main road toward home, I was terrified and nervous about what I had to do. I pulled  my jumper and shirt up exposing the black lace bra I had been tasked to wear today. Pulling it upward the girls were released. 


The speed limit slowed. The car came to the train crossing. The gates were down, the bells were clanging and red lights flashing. The train was at the station...people getting off..shit!! Evening commuters began to pour across the road. Of 2 score people or more, half  crossed the road hurrying around my car. Anyone could have simply cast their gaze toward the interior of my car to admire my embarrassment. It was broad daylight. I lowered my arms and tried to cover my embarrassment. An interminable degree of time passed before the gates lifted and I was able to drive away. Eager to escape the scene, I almost took off while the crossing lights and bells were still clattering. I stopped myself.
 

I drove further on, breathless, questioning myself. This was no fun, but had to do it. I know Mentor Sir probably wanted me to love it (or maybe not), but I hated it. My nipples were hard and sore. I reached the end of a very long road and I could do it no longer. I couldn't drive properly. I pulled everything back down. And drove home happy that it was over.

I reported this all back to The Two; Local Dom and Distant Dom. Local Daddy Sir wrote:
Now I want you to take a bex and a little rest, calm yourself please and reflect on what a very naught girl you have been, so naughty in fact that I am thinking about coming to  reprimanding you personally.
Be a darling for Daddy and masturbate for me tonight. One has to keep his little creature busy. I would like you to cum 2 times please, I feel that  one time will never make you tired enough,we both know this, so be a darling and please your Daddy.
Tomorrow you will wear something frilly please and I do like your follow me fuck me shoes. I love them so much I am thinking that is what you shall wear.
Daddy is only trying to look after his little girls interests. He has this in mind always as you are aware Daddy knows best, he knows exactly what his girl needs.
Yes Daddy Sir...

a little rest, reflect on your naughtiness and fiddle yourself to sleep for Daddy

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

obeying in black lace

Be a sweetie and wear black panties and bra tomorrow for Daddy, oh and with your dress, please don't put a safety pin to hide your cleavage, it's waaaay too good to hide.
And you have a lovely night beautiful girl.
Yes Sir, Thank you. x
photographer unknown

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Daddy's instruction

Panties tomorrow please.
Red for Tuesday I think and a dress with some red in it as well.
There's a good girl.

Yes Sir :)

photographer unknown


Monday, March 23, 2015

the Sadist in He

Daddy Sir has a sadist in him. He is uncomfortable with this notion. I suppose He believes a Sadist has no compassion, no empathy and in the true sense of the word, He is right. Having said that, Daddy Sir loves to bring me to pain, to distress, to make me squeal, to push me so far tears flow freely. 

When His girl is a weeping, wet, trembling mess, He releases her bindings, He hugs and holds until she quiets. I love that. His girl suffers to take all He wishes His girl to take, to inflict all His punishments on her. She exists in that moment to know He wants it. She exists only to please him. 

I don't use my safe word easily. I am willing and ready to use it but I admit to resisting until I can take it no longer. The thing I love about Him is that He knows when to slow, when to stop, He knows how far to push. I know He is concerned He will frighten me if He truly releases The Sadist. I don't think He will (frighten me). The further He pushes, the more I respond...a sick little puppy at His finger tips. 

I am His little creature to His Sadist self. 

 
Unknown photographer- found on a pro-feminist, anti BDSM site with a warning that the images may me upsetting. Well this feminist finds this image erotic and exciting.

Sunday, March 22, 2015

tasting my nature


Clive has been playing with his sexuality. I thought I'd try too. The survey is here.

My results:
Sex drive  11/13
Same-sex attraction: 9/13
Opposite-Sex attraction: 13/13

I think the results are in. It's about flexibility for me, hetero-flex, and homo-flex (new words..do you like?)
Actually its hasn't told me anything that I don't already know and have known for a lifetime.

I think if I die without exploring my bi-curious nature, this will be one of my greatest regrets. I am far too shy to be assertive about this though.


Friday, March 20, 2015

panties off Daddy

Today I was on the phone to Him and I was laughing, making jokes. He told me to stop. I was being bratty but having far too much fun. 

"Have you got panties on?"

I answered in the affirmative, suddenly quietened.
 

"Would you be a sweetie and take them off for me please..."

"NOW!" I replied.

I was at work, in the meeting room and had to slip my panties off!


"Now." He replied quietly.

"This is inappropriate Sir, I am at work. What if someone comes?"  I said my voice with a hint of panic and excitement mixed in fear. 

"Well you had better be quick." 

I slid the black lace and silver thread from my arse. One hand on phone, one hand on arse.
 
"Now put them in your pocket and get back to work. Go and achieve something."
 

I am still bare arsed....

 
photographer unknown

Thursday, March 19, 2015

Red red knock 'redem dead

Do you think you could pop a pair of red panties on for me tomorrow?
Daddy xxx
Yes Sir xx :) ... and red she did

photographer unknown

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Daddy's darling two

 Could you be a darling and not have panties on tomorrow, I like the idea of you being bare all day.
Daddy xxxx

You can't imagine how breathless I became when I received this email last night as I tucked down under the covers. 

"Yes Sir" whizzed  her electronic reply....and so she was.
photographer unknown

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

my submissive self

Hey google / blogger?  'artistic, educational, documentary or scientific contexts.'??

and look again..what if ! say CUNT, WHORE, SLUT !
Is the context now artistic?  It's certainly educational. It could be documentary - it records a real life process living in my mind....and how about science? hmmm? What if I work in all these words with  E = mc2   then we  have the beginnings of a scientific context. I know, I know let it go little, let it go.
But its all very arbitrary isn't it blogger?


Monday, March 16, 2015

begging Daddy

I wrote to distant Mentor Sir.
Local D told me that perhaps I needed to beg Mentor for his reconsideration ( names have been change to protect the innocent):
Sir
Local Sir D has told me that you plan to punish me with soap in my mouth. 
I beg you to reconsider.
When I said that nasty word connected with your name I was ...firstly...in a position that was working me up into a state where my mind begins to run more freely. Where the girl lets herself go. 
Secondly...I was hardly able to direct it toward Local Sir D...a clear and present danger to my already red bottom. 
I told Local Sir D that you would want to punish me and I told him you would want to soap my mouth. Please please please Sir, is there any other way I can make amends. Soap will make me quite sick I am sure.

Love
girl x
The answer from away across the ocean:

It will not make you sick-- My sub girl here tried the same tactic on me----and it cured her potty mouth real quick.

Tough love is needed sometimes, young lady

and I need to show you that your Daddy intends to be tough with you.

Sunday, March 15, 2015

a change in the willing slut - whats in a name?

An anonymous question for curious march:

How did you come to settle on the name of your blog?

hmmm...thinking of a name change at the moment (I wonder why?) so this is a timely question. Thank you anon for your question. The title of the blog has had a couple of iterations. It started out all those years ago as little precious one. I identified with the littles of the TTWD world, not so much around age play but the real feeling that i needed to be a diminutive in the relationship with a Dominant man. A Dominant man who would be physically and even emotionally bigger and more masterful than me. He would be lion to my mouse, a wolf to my deer, a big bad to my Goldie locks. I saw Him having a touch of the sadist. My experience with the world of TTWD / BDSM had been online and I had been lucky enough to have bumped into a wonderful Dom or two who were good men. They had chosen to call me by names such as little one and precious, so I identified with those terms way back in the beginning of my discoveries.

 I shifted not so much away from that little precious one, but shifted to incorporate an identity that embraces my sexuality. The incorporation of a sexual slut into my developing identity in TTWD was central to my exploration. The slut represented to me the freedom to be able to express my sexuality without shame, with fun and with strength. I embraced it as a positive and provocative way and not in the negative way that a male, or female for that matter, in the general populous may use it to bludgeon a woman for daring to express the power of her sex. In my opinion those males and females are a danger to women and their sexual freedom ( I am woman hear me roar!). This is about the time I moved to  willing slut, apply within. I hadn't banked on the traffic of both Dom's and non-Dom's who got it in their heads to beat their way to my door and lodge an application with the willing slut. I can be a bit obtuse that way. I had thought it a little joke that willing slut, apply within was like heralding the journey on which I found myself by hanging one's shingle above the door. The intent was not to attract business. One day a nice Dom man (thanks Martin..formerly Bruce the Good) explained to me that the title of my blog may send the message that I was advertising. I thought myself such a dufus! I took away the application procedure and went with willing slut. I felt this described the consensual nature of my sluttish endeavours.

Lately I have been feeling a discomfort in being the willing slut (only the blog title not the sluttish girl).  I am still examining that, but it appears that there might be a link to the 'nice girl' in me. I think she is feeling a little 'dirty, filthy' with the label. It may just be a phase, but it will play out and we may see and end to the willing slut and on the horizon another identity loom into view wiggling her delicious little arse.



Saturday, March 14, 2015

Daddy's masturbating bratty girl

Letter to Mentor Daddy;
I find it very difficult to write about, to report on. I really do. I am embarrassed about the slut I am. Talking about sex. About being fucked. Daddy there was some very dirty deeds done on Friday and I am frankly, still breathless about it. He made me kneel and masturbate...I wasn't able to come because of the position. I was embarrassed to masturbate. I couldn't understand why. This is not something that usually has me feeling shy. Maybe it was because I hadn't been warmed up, so I wasn't needy in any particular way. He allowed me to move to the bench, to a position where I could reach orgasm..and as I approached it, so very close, he said..."You have got Mentor Daddy to thank for this". My eyes shot open to meet His gaze. I stopped dead in my tracks(metaphorically speaking). It felt like you were in the room. Like you were both pulling the strings. I think I said something very rude.. "@&*%  Daddy!"
"Sorry!" He said, "What did you say? Shall I tell Him what you said?"
"Noooooooooooo", I cried out,  "Sorry sorry" I said.  As I continued twirling my little button.
He commanded me to come and I did come at that point. 
I am a naughty bratty girl. I don't think I can be tamed. That is not a statement of pride. It just is. I love doing things to please, but obedient?...I don't think that's where my expertise lay. Sigh
And so went my letter of confession to distant Mentor Daddy. 

The next day Daddy Sir (Local D) called me. 

"I hear you have had a discussion with D."

"Yes Sir."

"What did you tell him?"

"Lots of things Sir, which one do you mean?"

"Did you tell Him about the naughty little girl who masturbated?"

I felt myself flush,  "Yes Sir."

"...and did you tell him that you said a naughty, dirty word about him?"

"Yes Sir."  I said quietly as my eyes went involuntarily down. 

"Well little girl, as he cannot be here himself, he has asked me to carry out something to remind Our girl not to use her potty mouth."

The pause was heavily pregnant.

He said, "I will buy some gritty soap to make sure your mouth gets very clean."


Daddy's bratty girl


Friday, March 13, 2015

Love

...I think to love bravely is the best and accept as much as one can bear.
- Marilyn Monroe 

Photographer unknown: via http://datingfortodaysman.com


Thursday, March 12, 2015

waivering submission - examining me - curious March

And that last question I have been asked in curious March from His slut

At one point in the last year a part implied you were ready to throw in the towel on your submission. Do you think it is that easy to give up once you've experienced it and discovered all that you have learned about yourself? 

Thanks for your question Hs. I have recurring and constant doubt about my submission, more particularly about the authenticity of my submission. I don't get tattoos because I am a changeable girl though there are a few constants in my life. So far I haven't booted my hub out and I still keep my teenage child around just to torture myself  it seems (maybe I am more a masochist than I like to admit!), but there are times when I believe that this submission thing might be a phase I am going through. I think that for me it's difficult to sustain the expression of my submission as I don't live with my Dom in a 24/7 dynamic. In addition to that I don't feel I belong solely to my Sir. I have a husband and I find it increasingly difficult to be available to Sir at His bidding both emotionally and physically. Sir is not demanding in that sense and respects the difficulties I face in trying to be available to Him, however, at times I do find it an unrelenting but internal pressure that runs me down. This is entirely a pressure I put myself under. I want to be available to Sir, at His bidding but as it stands at the moment I cannot. I find therefore that the expression of my submission is incomplete, snatched in glimpses of alone time sometimes like I would imagine the in-authenticity of the love affair relegated to the office cleaning closet. 

Your point about not being able to give up once having tasted the honey is very true. I guess it's not my submission that is the problem, but the opportunity to express it and then sometimes this girl just needs alone time. When she is trying to split herself between near full time work, family and Sir, when she is trying to 'have it all', she just gets a little worn out and frazzled. It's at these times mostly that the girl doubts her submission, or at least her commitment to submission.


Victoria Baraga

Tuesday, March 10, 2015

rehabilitating the girl (back to basics) - the girl unravelled

In the previous episode our heroine was suspended by wrists tied above her head. Her legs were bound open at the ankles with a spreader bar and ropes to outlying chains. Clover clamps joined her nipples and more of the same hung weighted from her puffy pussy lips. She was gagged with a black ball and her little arsehole had been opened, stretched and plugged with cold metal. Her buttocks had been reddened by his right hand, the sting had not left her bottom as He stood admiring His girl's predicament, the flogger falling from His fist.

He slowly began to flog her breasts admiring the swing and wobble of their heaviness with each strike. The intensity of the strikes built rapidly to a point where the sting together with the bite of nipple clamps elicited squeals and whimpers from His girl. She was grateful as he drove the flogger to other parts of the body He owned; thighs, abdomen, back and bottom. She screamed as He landed the flogger on her hot engorged cunt. The the pain of the clamps on her fat pussy lips had subsided until now when He pummeled them with the leather.

The assault grew at a relentless pace. She wasn't able to think. She couldn't find that space in her head that she kept to escape from the pain. There was too much happening all at once. Her breasts bounced and swung in response to the floggers blows, each time the clovers bit and twisted harder into her nipples. He exchanged the flogger, soft for hard and continued whipping her gentle flesh. She gave-in to screams. She had tried to protect her bottom from the sting only once.

"Don't pull away from me!" He said deliberately in her ear.

 "Stick you arse out now!"

She whimpered as she thrust her bottom toward Him to receive the leather.

She no longer had control over the drool that had built behind the gag and it flowed from her mouth. Her thoughts spun around her in no coherent order. Her body reacted like a bitch on heat but her eyes welled with tears and she whimpered, responding to the painful assault. She had no method to shout to Him to stop. No way to communicate through the whipping of her flesh. He elicited with each successive beat of the leather, her screams and tears.

When the blows subsided, her sobbing did not. She was a mess. He removed the nipple clamps right and then left. Each removal accompanied by her scream was melody to His ears. He had always denied His sadistic nature to her, but she knew it to exist and in this moment she was the evidence of it if He cared to look.

Tied, drooling, tears, eased at once as she felt the pleasure and relief of the magic wand on her cunt. He brought her quickly to orgasm despite the stinging pain in her body. She came hard and a new torture began. He wouldn't allow her to stop coming. She was immobile while He made her come. Wave after wave until the waves became joined in one continuous flood. There was no relief, no refractory period before the explosion again. He directed a tsunami to move through her, destroying her where she hung. There was no escape to higher ground. She was caught in the flood that flowed from between her legs, squirting over herself and Him. She had no strength or control over her musculature to stop it, so overwhelmed was she by His will. A slut mess in the complete loss of her own control.

He employed the flogger once more. Her skin striped with red tendrils, like a jelly fish had wrapped itself around every part of her in its sting. As with a jellyfish sting vinegar would not sooth these marks. She was to endure the pain as He saw fit. She sobbed and squealed with each stroke. She had lost the ability to endure it. She was completely at His mercy and all that remained was for her to wait in whatever state she found herself, until the He ended it.

Finally the blows slowed and came to a halt. One at a time he began to remove the clamps on her labia. The pain of their grasp that had disappeared with time returned ten fold. She screamed and sobbed as He removed each one. He removed the gag from her mascara smudged face, her drool soaked jaw and chin glistening. She didn't say her words as she howled. She didn't say anything through her tears as her released her ankles and finally her wrists. She collapsed into him. He sat and received His girl. Her arms encircled His shoulders burying herself into His neck.

"Shhh' He whispered gently into her ear.
''Daddy won't let anything happen to you. He will always look after you."

He cooed in her ear stroking her hair and wiping her tears until her sobs subsided to whimpers and her breath quietened. He had taken her to the edge of her endurance and pushed her over it. He had held her all the while and had not pushed her out in the cold on her own. He was with her as she fell into the abyss, as she touched the void. He had held her hand and brought her back safely to Him.

photographer unknown

Monday, March 9, 2015

rehabilitating the girl (back to basics) - a sensory assault begins

This is not fiction....I just can't talk in terms of the first person when I write about these activities, I prefer to distance myself from the wanton slut inside me....

Last Friday....

He placed the red leather cuffs on her wrists and ankles. She felt an immediate calm when the leather tightened around her as He pulled at the buckles.

The black rope fell from the silver chains running across the ceiling. He directed her to stand under it and He pulled her wrists together fastening them high above her head so she was stretched from her leather heels to her fingertips. Later He would remove these shoes which would leave her stretched to tip toes.

He moved to the bench. Her breath grew quicker and deeper with the anticipation of what was to come. She could not imagine what was to unfold in its entirety. Had she understood this, she might well have started yelling her safe word before the shiny black ball gag went into her mouth. From the bench she heard the sound of metal and chains. The spreader bar was fastened to each cuff on her ankle. He drew rope between the chains either side that were stretch taught between the floor and ceiling. This was different. She was unable to move, to twist, to twirl. She was, in fact, immobile. She felt her breath catch, her pussy warmed and she grew wet waiting for Him to finish His work, His art, His perfection.

"Open" He said from behind her as He pulled the ball gag down in front of her.

She took the ball into her mouth and as he brushed away her long blond waves He fastened tightly the leather with its buckle at the back of her neck. Her head immediately bowed. She could not look Him in the eye as He moved around her. Things inside her began to swim. Her body reacting to her predicament. Her pussy tingled. Her breasts and nipples hardened, so exposed to Him was she in this moment. Even now as the girl writes this, she craves that same capture. She craves the vulnerability of being in His control, unable to move, unable to communicate other than through a desperate and guttural scream from behind the gag. Her pussy is warm and slick, her breath shallow and her head swims.

His hands glided over her breasts, buttocks, torso, as her cruised past her and around His creation. He was not finished. His girl needed decoration. She knew what this meant, this is the one thing she did know. The clamps! He walked toward her, the clover clamps with silver chains suspended from them. Her nipples were to be tortured with the decoration. She steadied herself and waited as He grabbed her heated engorged pussy lips. Her eyes widened, one, two were clamped. The pain was intense. Had he made them tighter she wondered screaming inside. She understood to her detriment that as the pain and sharpness dulled and eventually disappeared altogether, the greatest pain would come when he removed them one by one. He moved between the bench and His girl. He weighted the clamps intensifying the pain. Back to the bench and to the girl, this time clover clamps were destined for their rightful place. Her nipples were clamped and as the clamps bit viciously into her soft flesh the girl began to swim in a haze of near desperation.

The girl's final humiliation was the preparation of her arse. He would use that little piece of naughty heaven later no doubt. She felt the cold metal against her tight little hole. He worked her first with his finger, she squealed through the gag and writhed. The metal butt plug pushed its way into her, fucking her dirty little slut hole. Tears welled in her and despite herself she craved this treatment, she needed it. The more she squealed the harder He pushed, the more determine He was to violate her in this way.

Smack!
Thwack! 
His hand came down heavy on her buttocks.
He landed blow after blow. Wave after wave of wobbling flesh His reward. She winced and cried out as He stung her already sore bottom. 

The clamps pulled and tore at her lips and nipples as He connected with her soft, vulnerable flesh. She was in no position to run, to turn away, to cover her bottom. The sting  grew almost unbearable and she pulled forward away from His hand. She knew that this was only the beginning, by the time He was finished she would would have endured what she could not remember having endured before.

He swam around her in silence, taking the soft leather flogger from its resting place He stood quietly inspecting her breasts, her thighs and her predicament. Drool began to pool in her mouth, the final indignity she thought. The flogger hung threateningly from His red right hand. She steadied herself for the first blow.

Ken Marcus 2001

Sunday, March 8, 2015

curious March - what a girl wants, what a girl needs

tori's final question asked,

What have you not experienced but is high up on your list of really wanting to?

This is a question that Sir asks, or has asked quite a bit over the past. I have been happy for Him to take me where he wants to. I have also been unable to articulate anything that missing because I really don't know what there is out there that is new to taste. 

There was a time when I was drawn to the lead. It both repelled me and seduced me. I never quite understood the pet thing, I still don't to a certain extent. The dog lead repelled me in my bones because it made me feel that I was being told I was a dog. Deep inside me this seemed a humiliation I could not abide. The lead lay on the bench each time I visited the room. I became aware that I wanted it. I wanted it so deeply, but I couldn't tell Him. I couldn't ask. Eventually I blurted it out to Him. Since then He has gently lead me with it. I like it most when He holds it, holds me and doesn't let it go. I have no option but to be His. He has me captured with it. 

As far as high up on my list there is probably a few...24/7, being with a woman who is also in charge but Sir is always part of the dynamic in my fantasy. I would like to be shared by Sir, to be of service in His name. I also want to be at Sir's mercy, for Him to not hold back, to push and push, to take me completely and how He needs and wants. 


two Daddies.   photographer unknown

Saturday, March 7, 2015

rehabilitating the girl - back to basics

I arrived to the room on time.
He was waiting.

"You look just beautiful."

" Thank you Sir."

I stood, hands behind my back as He had taught me. My filmy dress clung to my ample breasts and flowed over my naked buttocks to just above the knee. His hands traced the contours and curves of my body. Lifting my dress over my head, He unwrapped His girl readying her for use.

"We are going to go back to basics."

I looked into his eyes searching for His meaning.

"Bend over." He said gruffly as he push His girl's head down. My hands shot out from their resting place to the couch in front and steadied my downward trajectory.

His hand fell hard on His girl's bottom in staccato succession. Cheek to cheek, side to side.
Smack, smack, smack, smack, smack!...and on. The girl squealed and wriggled. The stings kept coming, her squeals grew louder. She began to whimper. He walked from side to side of His girl, positioning himself to strike her buttocks. Her breasts hung heavy and free in this position and an advantage of His shark-like cruise around His girl was his unimpeded view of their movement as he struck her arse, like some over-sized executive desk toy made popular in the generation of excess of the 1980's.

"We are going back to basics. Spell it."

Before she could think His hand struck her hard. Her eyes watered as she called out the first letter.
"B" she faltered,
Thwack!
"A"
Thwack!
"S" the tears welled.
Thwack!! The blows got harder.
"I" she squealed her cheeks wet with tears.
THWACK!!!!
"C" she sobbed.
THWACK!!!!!
"S" she screamed.

Finally, he smoothed her hot stinging bottom with His soothing touch. She was grateful to Sir for the relief. He didn't instruct her to stand, to raise her head. Instead he moved to the other side of the room. She saw him remove the black leather crop from where it hung on its hook and slowly, deliberately moved back across the room to her.  In that moment her skin trembled and she began to hate the basics. By the end of the day she would belong once again to Him. She knew it. The journey way going to be a tough one though.

waiting for Sir. Photographer unknown.

Friday, March 6, 2015

what's my scene - curious march

A second question from tori
 

What is your favourite scene so far, yes you can choose only one lol 

I have to tell you tori this is hard. I have never thought in terms of scenes but just activities that happen when we meet. 

Most of my favourites are bits and pieces joined together in long corridors of sensory overload. When he claims my submission through the use of force, I am in heaven. I know, I know, as a good lil girl sub I am supposed to freely give my submission to Him, blah, blah, blah. It's never really a case of resistance, its more a case of being overwhelmed to a breaking point and in that breaking point my submission emerges.

My favourite times are when His power overwhelms me. He brings me to tears when He makes me come so hard I skirt around the edge of consciousness. Then I quieten and I am still, so quiet, He can do anything to me. At these times He caresses my face, breasts, arms, legs, bottom. He whispers into me holding my face to His hands and tells me He 'loves me like this'.

There are those times when the journey through the day includes one sensory stimulus after another. I enjoy this most when His methods bring me immediately to my submission. The black shiny ball-gag makes me bow my head. I am aware of a humiliation with this prop. I cannot look Him in the eye. He never leaves this on for long but I crave it, this black ball fastened with leather at the back of my neck. In concert with this He ties my wrists with rope and suspends His girl from the silver chain that runs across the ceiling. He employs the soft flogger with inch wide leather tendrils to warm and then sting my breasts, thumping harder into my whole body as I twist and twirl in response to the sting. In this position He claims my arse for His pleasure. Leaving His girl hanging, a wet, dirty, filthy slut who's only purpose is for His bidding. He removes the gag while he looks into my eyes and as drool escapes my lips He slaps my face, once, twice, sometime thrice. He plunges His huge fingers between my thighs and deep inside me. Covered with my slut juice, He pulls His fingers away and thrusts them into my mouth. I suck and clean Him of my own taste. Pulling His fingers from my happy slut mouth, His lips and tongue plunge into mine. I am entirely His tied, suspended, dirty, filthy li'l slut-whore in those moments, gagging in need for all He takes from His girl.

willing slut for His pleasure

Thursday, March 5, 2015

rehabilitation of the girl

A text arrived.

"How is my beautiful girl going today?
I know you are wearing panties today.
I want you to take them off for Daddy right now."

I took a sharp breath. I hadn't worn a skirt that was amenable to a bare bum at work and I had a meeting in the afternoon. I was nervous scared and  little nauseous. I hadn't been bare arsed for a very long time. I had been through a time where I needed my panties. My confidence had slid from my person in recent months. It had been a hard time and I had taken to wearing my panties when I was not with Sir. He had allowed this. He's a softy really..(I'm going to get into so much trouble for saying that out loud).

"Yes Sir" I replied straight away as I rose from my desk to make my way to the bathroom.

"Good girl", the text came back.

In the cubicle I lifted my skirt, pointed the camera phone at the green lace traversing my buttocks and click! I forwarded the picture with the caption 'before', just so he knew what he was missing :). I slid the panties from my arse and click!, 'after' I wrote under the picture of my round bottom. I stuffed the folded knickers into my right hip skirt pocket and exited the cubicle surrounded by a hope that I wouldn't trip and end up..well...end-up and over-exposed!

The rest of the afternoon was locked in earnest exchanges of  D/s text begging. Panties on for my meeting? Panties off for the journey back to the office and on again for the journey home. His little brat came out to play, pushing and poking at His authority with a little bit of pouting.

"Suck it up princess, Daddy is reclaiming His girl."

As nauseous as it made me, as jittery as my nerves became at the possibility I would be found out. I felt His grip tightening again.

I am instructed to be at the room on Friday, with all my toys and hurty metal bits given to me by Him, kept safely in a Chinese satin draw string purse. Today was the beginning of winding His girl up like a little toy doll. Tightening the coiled winding mechanism until he reclaims His brat-girl and rehabilitates her wayward submissive soul.

photographer unknown




Wednesday, March 4, 2015

curious March - Non, je ne regrette rien

Julie asked -
If you look back over the past few years, is there anything you would do differently? 

Anything and everything. I would be braver Julie. I am not very brave and still given the opportunity now I cannot be as brave as I would like.

I think I would not have fretted about eliciting my non Dom hub's permission to explore this thing in me. That was just a disaster. To trust him with that assurance.  I think I would have just moved on with secrecy. A lot less heart ache I think. Maybe not, but one always wonders.

I would have believed in how beautiful I am. I would not have allowed my head to believe that I was not an adorable, sexy woman/girl. I would have believed in myself deep inside as much as Sir believes in me. 

Moving even further back..if I'd have known in my youth what I know about me today, I would have sought out a Dominant kinkster mate. A 24/7 kinky lover to care for me and me Him. I would have thrived all my life as a beautiful and strong sub woman.
But! you can't go back...no names, no pack drill. No regrets.

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

curious March - growing on the journey

tori asked

 1) How do you feel you have grown in yourself since starting your journey, the highs and the lows?

This is a big question, thank you for asking it tori. 
When I think about where I started...
I just read the post from tori's best buddy invited to post on tori's blog. That was me. Younger, independent, fighting the sisters fight.  My journey has seen me accept feminism in a non-traditionally feminist way. I moved away from the fight against men for the sake of exercising muscle against men and moved into an acceptance of girl and boy and the fundamental desires in each. I opened myself to male sexuality. I embraced its strength and its animal baseness, in fact I reveled in it. I recognise the yin and yang of the male and female energies in a deeply visceral way. I saw they needed each other to thrive. My submission is not so much centered on acquiescing to His power, it is about understanding my womanliness and making it available to His strength, His life force, His will. I see Him love it, care for it, mold it, use it, bend it to breaking and yet always  understanding the bipolarity of the fragility and the strength of it. He has taught me to trust Him and not be afraid of who I am.
There have been so many highs and many lows. The highs have all been at His hand, the lows have not. The highs have come from His Dominance and my submission in sync. The lows have come from external sources which push against my needs.Wrinkle their nose in disgust at my needs. I think I have learned to embrace my kink as normal, though I still keep it secret. This kink, this need I have to be slapped, choked, roughed up, controlled is something that remains deep in the closet. Even Mr Grey and the simpering Anastasia Steele have done little to reframe BDSM as anything more than Mills and Boon with a crop.

Zelko Nedic  The Girl In The Mask (2009)

Monday, March 2, 2015

curious March

ooo-err its question month!
I have been tapping away on the keyboard since 09 I think and never really taken part in 'question time'.

Question time is fun I suspect. So! lovely lurkers and not so lurky bloggers..ask away! I will resolve to keep you protect your true identity and will publish my responses. Send me a message through the comments here or the 'Curious March' function over on the right. It asks for an email as mandatory but if you don't want to leave one,  it's easy to just make one up :). I am the first to protect anonymity.



a break in transmission?

I have had a completely wonderful weekend.
So long and so involved,
so up and so down,
so soft and so hard.

I have begun to live outside my husbands world. Outside his reach. Just baby steps, but I have begun. To break away from that which is smothering me. Holding me down, pulling me back. It makes it easier to like him in a way.

I have sent a request to fetblogger.com as a direct consequence of the blogger/google censorship fiasco. I will be exploring the option of another blog, even a new title. I will be exploring the submissive diaries. I would like to somehow cart everything in here off to there, we shall see. More to follow.

It has been a tough week with Sir (Hasn't it Sir?). A hiccough in our time together, but a brave girl like me always tries to tackle things head on.

I am coming back to posting I think. Finding me.. shedding my skin, holding my vulnerable self and embracing her warmly. Being kind to me, nurturing me. Loving me. Its hard but I have resolved to begin.

photographer unknown