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.

Dislocation

A few nights ago, I disappointed my Master again. My behaviour showed an unacceptable lack of self-control. I was selfish and shortsighted about how my behaviour reflects on him. The shame was overwhelming when I reflected and realised I had behaved inappropriately, and I emailled him my explanation and apology as soon as I could. But it wasn't enough to prevent his anger.

When Master withdraws his kindness, I am dislocated. Everything becomes purposeless. I just drift, hoping and waiting for him. At one point, I really thought I was going to lose him this time. I tried to test it in my mind, to see if I could survive it: asking myself, what if he frees you? I couldn't even comprehend it. There was no answer, just a big.............. silent........... void............

I know I am a good submissive. I used to doubt myself a lot, but over time Master has shown me just how much strength, and obedience and potential I really have. I strive to better myself and show more and more devotion to him, to go further and further into that heavenly place where I know I am enslaved, where only his desire matters. But sometimes I fail. And when I do, it seems my failures are severe.... unforgivable.

He was eerily normal the other night at first - not like last time, when his every glance was ice cold. Then he directed me to kneel beside him, my back to him. He made me sit there a long time. A very long time... until my knees throbbed in agony, my thighs tingled, and my feet felt as though they did not exist at all. I started to plead to be allowed to move, but the tone of his "no" was merciless and I went silent. The pain was not like being whipped or beaten - there was no sensuality in this, it was only agony. It took all my determination to stay there, getting closer to tears, telling myself, be strong... be strong for him... Until finally he told me to stand, and I couldn't - my legs wouldn't even twitch, and I groaned as I tried to force them, as if trying to wake a dead thing. He pushed me to the floor in contempt, and began to fuck me. He told me to crawl as he did it, and I could only drag myself with my hands, legs sliding uselessly behind me. He made me lick the floor, and I screamed as spasms of pain gradually re-entered my muscles, and a couple of tears did come, while he fucked me... his property.... used...

He said, "There are many forms of punishment, aren't there?" And it hit me how effortless it had been for him to put me there, crawling like an amputee, helpless and in pain. He hadn't even needed to touch me.

If I do something like this a third time... well... I don't even want to type it. I can't lose him. What am I without him? Just a common slut, with no one to guide me, protect me, teach me, understand me, no one to love. No one else could come close to filling his shoes.

Now my fear is all the more real. These two times I have so seriously disappointed him, I was completely unaware. I slipped up naively and failed to recognise my error until much later. Both times, I tried to right my mistake but grossly underestimated its significance. What horrifies me is that lack of awareness. If I cannot see my failure when it happens, how do I avoid it? This is very troubling to me. In a way, I feel trapped - doomed to fail no matter what effort I make. Vigilance is essential, but will it be enough?

I have to try. And think very hard. I need to please him.

Presence

Finally he let me see him last night. Driving over, the anticipation was more excruciating than its been since the first time I asked him to flog me. He didn't speak, just tied my hands behind my back, and tethered me to a pole in his backyard. I knelt there, naked, with my head down, and he turned on his garden hose. The cold water was a shock, but I didn't try to avoid it, and I leaned forward when he told me to, letting the water spray against my ass and cunt. He soaked my body, then left me there, tied outside in the cold wind. He photographed me, then soaked me again later, and left me there until I suspected I would be there all night. The idea scared me, but I easily accepted it, and had he left me there overnight in the cold I would not have complained.

Finally he led me inside, still with my hands tied, and gave me a cold shower to wash off the dirt. He spoke to me coldly, only talking to direct my movements, and I obeyed in silence. In the bedroom, he told me to kneel and untied my hands, then whipped my ass and back with just a few strokes from the wet rope. It stung a lot, but my marks are pale. After drying myself I was allowed into his bed, where he fucked me holding my face down into the pillow, so that I could barely breathe.

I felt gratitude for every second that he bothered with me, and wanted only to please him. This is a rare thing for me - I am ashamed to say, my mind can be selfish when I am being fucked. But this time, I felt pleasure, but I didn't care about it. I had no desire to orgasm, just to be there to please him. I tried to move my body with his, not because I liked it, but because I knew he would like it. I felt completely, one hundred per cent dedicated only to him. Yes, my body responded with pleasure, and my orgasm was very strong when I was allowed it, but my mind was on him, and I would have happily gone without if it had pleased him to deny me.

He paused at one point and removed something from his bedside drawer. I didn't know what it was until he pressed it into my back: a knife. He has run blades over my body before, pressed them against my skin, made faint scratches on my breasts, and even fucked me with a knife before, but I have never been cut. This time he pushed the blade into the flesh of my ass cheek until warm blood ran out and down my skin. He stopped there - I very obviously enjoyed it far too much, and tonight was no time for a reward. But what a feeling... to lie still and willfully let him draw blood from me, as his possession. My body, my blood, my life... they are his.

Afterwards he let me sleep in his bed, though it was clear that I deserve much more punishment. I suspect more will come, but that was all for one night. I don't know how long it will take to earn his forgiveness, but I am overjoyed to have the chance.

The wait

"Start a blog," He said, "I want to know what you are thinking and feeling. I want to know what you imagine us doing."

A part of me doesn't want to right now - its too much, too private. But thats what makes it most relevant, and most important that I do. I may not hide anything from him, even in silence.

Since the last time Master spoke to me, I have been a mess of hurt and shame. He was so angry about what I'd done that I feared he would never want me back. I've been anxious and crying. I've been sleeping little and eating less. I feel crushed... fragmented... lost...

Is this my punishment? May I beg for it to stop?

I have been blind and carelessly disobedient. I deserve to be treated harshly for my ignorance and failure to learn, and I will embrace the sternest discipline with gratitude.... but his rejection is more than I can take.

He told me once that I deserved him, and I was awed. Even then it seemed like more compliment than I had earned. Perhaps I don't deserve him anymore...?

I told him I would wait until he wished to speak to me. It has been agonising, taking every ounce of my determination and strength to show the patience I know he desires in me, and wait for him. So many fears are running through my mind - what if he never speaks to me again? What if he just doesn't want me anymore? What if I try speaking to him and he is angry again? What if he tells me I may not speak to him? What if I have to wait a long time? How long can I cope?

I imagine going to his house and waiting outside his door for him, until he comes home. I want to kneel with my head down and wait. And when he ignores me and goes inside, I will still wait. As long as it takes. I would wait for him all night if he didn't return. And if he left the next morning, without acknowledging me, I would return that same night and wait some more. If it comes to it, I will. I told Sista this and she said "What if he kicks you like a stray dog?" I thought, I hope he does. Anything is better than him ignoring me. And I said "I belong to him. He can do what he likes with me."

This is my worst fear come to life - I let myself love him and now he is gone, through my own doing, and I don't know if or when he will return. Just like we enacted on the day when he left me tied and abandoned, I have no choice but to wait as long as it takes - because he possesses me. That day I was scared, but now it is real, and I am hurting to the core. Without my beautiful Sista's help, I would simply break apart.

I told her that blogging seemed like a cheat - a way of speaking to him while still waiting, and it was her that pointed out that he wants to read my thoughts and feelings in the blog. And this is too important to leave out. Thank you, Sis...

Recently I asked him about why he prefers me to keep my blog private, selecting who I should give the link to and when, and he chose not to answer directly. Thinking now, I feel I understand what the answer is: it doesn't matter why, because the blog is his. It is his possession of my thoughts, feelings, and fantasies. He chooses what to do with them, not me. Like my body, it belongs to him, and he will share it with whom he chooses. So today, I may not want to publish my disgrace and shame, but I will, because I write it for him, no one else.

A lesson

It is a rare experience for me to be punished by my Master. But last night was such an occasion, and rightly so - I had been very thoughtless. It was a brief lapse of obedience, but a significant one, and I am disappointed in myself.

He made sure I understood what I had done, in a most creative fashion, saying he wanted to be sure I would remember the lesson, in a way that a traditional flogging could not ensure. Probably wise, among other reasons because I have asked for some pain recently, so that would have been too much like a reward. As it was, I can't deny that I did get some pleasure from being punished, as he was well aware. Don't misunderstand: it was unpleasant, and I felt dirty and ashamed at having disappointed him. But I also knew it was deserved, and for that I wanted it. And a part of me felt aroused and satisfied at being reminded of my place. There is a definite comfort that I take from being disciplined: the fact that he bothers to correct me, putting thought into making sure I learn, assures me that I am valued by him. I feel secure to know that he considers me worthy of being taught to avoid future mistakes.

I certainly didn't screw up intentionally, and I would be disgusted with myself if I ever did. His disappointment is not worth it, and I know that if I ever feel the need for a reminder, or a physical act of discipline, I need not misbehave, only ask. If I deserve a reward, I will receive it.