"Thus with a kiss, I die..."

I've heard it said that a Dominant should never kiss a submissive. A kiss, some say, is a sign of affection that makes people into equals. I intensely disagree. A kiss can be so many things - all it takes is a little creativity. There are kisses that communicate love, lust, aggression, fear, awe, sadness, strength, and power. It isn't just an affectionate gesture, like anything else, depending on how it is done, it can be a most seductive tool of manipulation.

Master rarely honours me with a kiss, but when he does, it captivates me. He often pauses with his mouth close to mine and lets me strain forward, seeking him... sometimes allowing me that final touch, sometimes just letting me squirm under him until I give up, unfulfilled. If he allows my lips to touch his, it is most often a gentle, brief meeting, leaving me desperately wanting more. But sometimes he will push forward and take my mouth, his body saying, I own you - inside and out. A kiss like this makes my heart race and my cunt open.

Recently he placed a gag in my mouth - a leather one that covered it completely - and teased me by pressing his lips against it. He pushed against the leather, licked it, caressed it, smothered it with his mouth, while I writhed and struggled, as if the right movement could somehow make that barrier disappear. It was a frenzy of desire - I was overwhelmed with the sight of him attacking my mouth so passionately, while being denied the actual sensation.

Like orgasms, kisses are a way that Master owns and controls me, through pleasure and denial. Anyone who says they shouldn't be a part of D/s is just not thinking of the possibilities.

Truth takes you by surprise

Its amazing how used to something I can get, so that it feels totally normal, and then suddenly experience all over again exactly how degrading it really is.

I was used four times the other day. I truly wish I could share the nature of the first time, but its one of the things on Master’s “top secret” list. Suffice to say it left me quite raw - my pussy swollen and sensitive.

Following straight after that was a fuck from a man I found very off-putting. While I don’t need to find someone attractive to fuck them, its rare for me to meet someone I’d prefer to say no to. This one was an exceptional turn-off. But it wasn’t optional – Master owed him. So I was used, and I tried to please him, even more aware than usual that it wasn’t my choice.

When I was told to go to Master’s house later that night, I was reluctant. Anyone who knows me would find it hard to imagine: nadi not wanting to be fucked??! Lol. But I was sore, red, swollen and very uncomfortable from the day’s treatment. On the one hand, I love it when being fucked hurts... but on the other, if I was sore now, after Master used me, it would get much worse...

Not only did he use me, but he also humiliated me and had me fucked and licked by a timid, apologetic sub boy, while I groaned in discomfort, unable to hold still from the pain and swelling by the time they were done. I stood there afterwards, holding on to Master's bed post, rocking back and forth in some vague attempt to ease the pain enough to walk properly, and it seemed totally natural to be there, feeling this way. Not once did it occur to me that there was anything out of the norm about this situation...

Not until two days later, reliving this in my mind, when I realised how normal it felt to be so used. And how high and warm and blissfully controlled it felt to know how normal it feels. Being owned, a slave, a slut, an object, is now so easily a part of me. What was once alien and exciting is now familiar and comfortable. I contemplated that today, and felt a rush of awe and pleasant shame that made me self-consciously wrap my arms around my body, at my desk at work.

In many ways its lovely to be getting used to this.... but I hope I am never too used to it, so that I don't have these hot moments of such strong awareness that this is all real.

Promises, promises

There is nothing quite the same as the grim feeling of deciding to break a promise to myself. I'm stubborn in some ways, I suppose, though I prefer to think of it as loyalty and perserverance. But obviously, if anything can convince me to break a promise I made to myself, its my Master's will.

It was many years ago when, to escape poor body image and pressure to conform, I vowed never to change my shape for a man. A lot has changed since then. My body is no longer my own, and pride is no longer an excuse. It still took a bit of mental pressure to get me to accept breaking the promise. But just a bit.

Master has been too kind to make me feel bad about my recent weight gain, but he has given me a little nudge on the topic. It was in my dreams where he really got strict on it - I woke up panting after dreaming he had tied my hands and leashed me to a treadmill to get me moving. Lol.

In the end, I've got to get over myself and please my Master. I want to take care of his property as he would like me to. I want him to be as proud of my appearance as I hope he is with my behaviour. He owns my body, and he deserves to have it please him. So today, I walked into a gym for the first time in my life. This is a big deal for me. I am, I suppose, breaking another limit for him, and this one I have to do on my own.

I smile sometimes, when I think how much he has changed me in such a short time...

Answer

Master has been noting lately that I have been prone to tardiness - delays answering his sms's, not answering the phone, not emailling him when I should.... I could make a million excuses but I know better than to try - none of them actually excuse anything. I should be attentive to him, always. This is not a part time, when-it-suits-me situation. No matter how busy I may be, he should have my attention.

Last night, he warned me. The punishment I will be given, if my attentiveness does not improve - a night with an unimpressive master.

I was surprised - it seemed light, for Master's usual choice of consequences. But then I thought about it... and thought about it... and I began to realise the meaning behind it....

Master tells me it is not just about pleasing him - he is training me to be the best. If I deserve to be owned by him, as his 'number 1', I will behave that way. But if I behave as an average sub, I deserve only an average master. I must prove I deserve more.

The experience of being sent to someone else for a night wouldn't, in itself, be that bad. But the more I consider it, the more the thought becomes very uncomfortable - being told by Master's actions, if you behave like a common sub, you will be treated like one. Him showing so little pride in me, that he would leave me to the devices of someone he neither likes nor respects. That would be misery, and shame.

There is another, darker message in this also. Its about showing Master the appreciation he deserves. It is an honour for me to be accepted as his possession, and something I must work to live up to. Because if I were not his, then the average, PC, unimaginative, undisciplined Dom is exactly what I would have instead. And I should not forget it.

Some time ago, I asked Master, Sir, how may I serve you better? It was a big question, and one I had considered before offering it. I feel now, coinciding with the arrival of my new sista-in-training, that I am receiving an answer. And I am grateful.

"SSC is so PC"

Master said that the other day, quoting someone, I believe. We were visiting a D/s couple so that he could share me in exchange for another sub. They were a very "PC" pair, complete with a safe word, 'safe, sane, consensual' play, and very distinct limits. It was, as Master said, a chance for me to show off. He stood me in their living room in a collar and leash, with a bit in my mouth, and outlined my training, adding that I have no safe word, and "no real limits".

I didn't get into BDSM because of an interest in politics. I got into this to push the boundaries of safety, and bend the rules of sanity. Thats what feels good - the pleasure of there being no limits... no rules except the ones Master creates. He is in control - not me, and not a people-pleasing theoretical principle.

Consent is meaningless between Master and I. I gave up the right to consent a long time ago, near the beginning. It was a fascinating feeling, like emotional free fall, to give all my rights away - a kind of agony that felt so right. He demonstrated to me what that meant, pushing me far enough that I thought my heart would collapse, as I screamed and sobbed and begged him not to take me there... but he had to... to show me what I had promised... so I knew it was real. I spent one day grieving my freedom, but even then, when he asked me, is this what you want? the answer was a definite yes.

I hadn't known Master long then, and you could argue it wasn't the smartest thing to do - give up consent to someone I hadn't built a lot of trust with. But the only real way to know trust is to test it. I feared him sometimes, but always reminded myself to give him my trust. Now, I have never felt so safe. Not because of limits or safe words, or any other restriction, but because I have learned what it is to be owned. If Master looks after me, it is because he takes care of what is his. If he harms me, it is because he chooses to.

There was a time when I could have understood what the couple from the other day got out of power play, but I have honestly forgotten. If you give up power to someone, within limits, and with a way out, then you haven't really given up anything at all. I'm not criticising those who do it that way... but I don't see how they could be fulfilled. The couple we played with the other day may not be representative, but they certainly didn't seem to be.