Quick, call the paramedics...

...there is no question in my mind that I will resist for him, right up until he returns and grants permission, not a moment too soon...

I didn't.

But I didn't disobey him either.

In the 1800s, neurotic, over-emotional women were diagnosed with 'hysteria', and treated with the medical administration of a vibrator until they reached orgasm and were able to function rationally again. (Its true.) I wholeheartedly relate to this. I've blogged before about the state I end up in if I don't get fucked for too long. If I can't masturbate either, hysteria is a very accurate description for what happens to me.

Yesterday, less than 24 hours after my determined post, I lost control. I was screaming senselessly at Betty, who didn't know what to make of me, shaking, and crying uncontrollably for a good half hour. It came on out of the blue and took me a long while to figure out that my behaviour was not normal. I felt like the world was crashing down around me and couldn't understand why nobody could make sense of what I was saying. I felt victimised, attacked from all angles and unable to cope. It was an extreme reaction to nothing in particular.

When I eventually saw what was happening, I sent a message to Master, pleading with him. I explained my lack of success at orgasming when I was permitted to, and the ongoing teasing I'd been coping with for 3 days without release. I told him I wasn't coping, and that it was affecting my emotional state, and asked him to please consider allowing me just one self-induced orgasm...

... after assessing my progress on my other task, he must have been satisfied with my answer. He granted permission. Thank you, Sir.

Of course, I am already horny again. Masturbation is like that - it only satisfies for a very limited time compared to the real thing. Or maybe thats just for sluts like me. But I do feel a lot better, and its restored my confidence to last until he returns tomorrow night.

On the one hand, I want to think about seeing him, and look forward to it... but on the other, it starts to get me excited... and I don't want to be a wreck when I greet him...

There's no aphrodisiac like it

Before he left, I did get to spend a night alone with Master :) I was exhausted, and a little delirious, so he waited til morning to give me my instructions for his absence...

I am not allowed to touch myself while he is away.

For some people, that might sound fine. He is only gone for a few days. But for me, thats a long time not to masturbate. Particularly when I'm staying in Master's house, with so many arousing memories, under blankets that smell of him. Particularly when I have the other major daily task he has set me, the one that I'm not allowed to write about. It keeps me thinking dirty thoughts, and makes sure I am regularly on edge. I am allowed to cum under certain specific circumstances, but those circumstances are not optimal for release.

And then of course there's the fact of the rule he has set in itself. It keeps me reminded that my body does not belong to me. It is his, and he can choose to leave it at the disposal of anyone he likes... or deny it from anyone he likes, even me. That sense of possession in itself gives me an intense longing... And the knowledge of not being allowed to fulfil it makes me just want to touch myself even more. Its like saying, don't think about a big purple dildo. Nothing makes me want to bring myself off more, than not being allowed to bring myself off.

Its the third night and I am struggling. I have reached down many times and almost touched before remembering. I have been constantly wearing underwear, even to bed, just in case. Its getting harder today as my frustration has increased to the point where I am aware of my ability to orgasm just by clenching a little, without needing to touch. It would only take a very short lapse in willpower to fail him now.

But there is no question in my mind that I will resist for him, right up until he returns and grants permission, not a moment too soon. I am absolutely his, and as much as this is tormenting me right now, it would be far worse to disobey him. Not even because of the punishment he would give me, but because I would be ashamed of disappointing him.

Now, I must go... I have a task to complete before bedtime...

A chosen sista...?

I met her last night, the new sub Master has begun training. I wanted to meet her, but at the same time I was disappointed. Master is going away again, and that makes me all soppy and emotional. I don’t want to share his attention when I’m feeling like that. When I know I’m about to go without him for a while, I want to be ultra close to him, try and soak some of him up, hang on to some energy or pheromone that will somehow make me less lonely in the days to come. But he seems to feel differently – perhaps even keener to make the most of the opportunities for group play… It’s different for him – it’s about maximising pleasure. Being without him is not just missing our fun, it’s feeling emptier… lost. It’s not just about pleasure for me... its about love. A part of me wants to wail, that’s all his fault! But that isn’t right – I gave him my heart willingly….. even willfully. So now I suffer some things he doesn’t.

The only thing worse than not seeing him alone at these times, is not seeing him at all. My only strategy is to please him the very best I can. Anything less will leave him disappointed in the play - and even worse, in me. So last night I dressed in my tiniest miniskirt and high heeled boots, and arrived at his house determined to maximise his pleasure, and earn his pride. I was obedient, and orgasmic when permitted, and he said “good girl.” I practiced the quiet strength that has eluded me sometimes, at the moments when I felt insecure. And there were a lot of those, the most obvious being when he was fucking her, holding her arms above her head and clamping one hand over her mouth, muffling her voice saying “yes, Sir.” But there were other moments when I was told to hold her head or push her down, and they made me ache even more. Because at those moments, I felt I was not “on the bottom”. As much as I believe him that it won’t happen, I still feared losing my place...

On the surface it would seem uncomfortable for me because the scene was overtly designed more for her training than mine. But that’s kind of the point. Being part of her training is my training - that its not about me. Jealousy, and insecurity, and that sickening sensation in my gut, are a lesson in powerlessness. In Master’s words, it reminds me who owns me. It forces me to face the fact that I can’t escape those feelings – no matter what my actions, he will still do as he likes, and my only acceptable response is submission and obedience.

Now that I’m not living with Betty anymore, I have a vacant room that, with Master’s encouragement, I have offered to this new sub. She is everything I would want in a roommate, and everything Master would want in a house with me. But I still feel apprehensive. This will challenge the green-eyed sub in me. But to avoid living with someone who is otherwise almost perfect, just to prevent that, would be denying my Master, for my own security. I may not avoid feeling whatever he wants me to feel.

Later, he also pointed out that having her in the house will give him even more of a hold on me. Through Sis.S, Master will have eyes on his property even when he is not there. That raises a whole world of possibilities…

Use me

When I was 17 years old, the guy I was dating told me he loved me. It really pissed me off. He was 9 years older than me, and the major reason I was seeing him was precisely to avoid that sort of extraneous involvement. It was suppposed to be just sex. I didn't want all that other stuff along with it, not from him.

I felt annoyed. I asked, "why did you say that?" He responded "I just want you to know I'm not using you." Yes, he was. And thats exactly why I was enjoying myself. But what was I supposed to say? "Using" was supposed to be something bad. I was still too young to admit I wanted "bad" things. I had to grudgingly accept his romantic declarations and pretend I wanted them. But I was disappointed.

And I still have that disappointment on a regular basis. Some men just can't get past their feelings of obligation to give a woman something 'nice'. Even when they know I'm an owned slut, they still try and treat me to something. They still look at my face to check whether I'm having a good time. Why can't I just be used?

I guess that's why Master is teaching me to be more vocal about my depravities - telling me he wants me to be just as disgustingly honest with others as I am with him, when asked to say what I am, and what I like. I know he enjoys watching me lose my inhibitions... perhaps if I can give them inspiration, others can lose theirs and use me more freely?

The important bits are always in the silence

When I started to blog tonight, all I was thinking was "look what I did today!" I have been feeling quite pleased with myself, wanting to show off. Then chatting to Sista, she pointed out one of the nicer pleasures of the experience, and I started to think, how nice it is to have someone else with rights over my body.

Two weeks ago when Master granted permission, it felt good, not just because he said yes, but because it was his decision to make. It feels somehow warm and safe to be subject to another's opinion... forgoing the final responsibility, and pleasing him in some way via my appearance.

Even better than that is the thought of him deciding to change me for himself - without my request. Perhaps a change in my body to make me more attractive to him... or something functional, to increase his pleasure... or best of all, something that labels me as his, or simply marks my submission. Anything he chose to do to me, I would thank him for it.

I haven't blogged for a long time, though I have wanted to. I have wanted to blog about the limitlessness of Master's power over me... the things he can teach me, the things he can do to me... and the paradoxical sense of security it leaves me with, knowing the possibilities... and some of the realities.......... But there are some things I just can't write - and for good reasons. It makes me sad. I want to share my gratitude, but I can't - because people wouldn't understand. So I've been kind of stuck.

So now, I'm trying to compromise with myself, by instead, writing about the delightful pain of having my nipples pierced, and the delightful pleasure of knowing they are Master's nipples, and the hope that he will like them that way. Just as there is so much here that must be left unsaid, there is so much of his will that remains undone. And the potential positively looms...