it was a great, yet mellow weekend with my Mistress. i was able to finish moving most of Her furniture out of storage this week. some pieces still remain, but for the most part, everything is back here in Her lair. at Her persuading and coaxing, i looked up a recipe and made some egg plant parmigiana. She said it was

pretty good for a first attempt. i don't know what it is about my forehead and the scar, but She is bound and determined to bloody it again and reopen the thing. i must tell Y/you about the scar. it is going on the 6th week since prior to thanksgiving that She opened up the gash on my target prone forehead. She threw everything but the kitchen sink at me this evening and i was dodging Her projectiles with the help of some make shift shields. but, wow! does She have a good arm and pin point accuracy. She would of clobbered me quite a few times, either that, or ripped off my ear.

nightmare

i had a frightening nightmare last night early in the morning. i awoke to the heavy hands of my dear, sweet Mistress clobbering the snot out of the left side of my face. i was bleary eyed and terribly disoriented ... evidently my tethered screaming and hollering had disturbed Her blissful slumber. She took matters into Her own two hands and begin slapping the shit out of me.

here is what I vaguely remember ...

"pescado!" x SLAP x! "pescado! wake up!" xx SLAP xx SLAP xx !"pescado! can't you hear Me! You're having a nightmare!" xxx SLAP xxx!, xxx SLAP xxx!,xxx SLAP xxx!

now, by this time, i was fucking terrified and terribly disoriented. i wasn't even certain as to where i was since emerging from a dreamlike state. all I knew was that something horrible was standing over my prone form and attacking me!

XXX SMACK xXXX !!! "pescado! Wake up DAMNIT!, you are having a nightmare !!! that last slap didn't come across as a slap at all. it shook me out of my fuzzy state and i remember Her fist clocking me across the left eye. immediately the swelling began tightening around my socket. my eye was watering and tearing profusely.

i was scared shitless and then all of a sudden I knew that i was in my Mistress's presence. an eerie calm settled over me as i suddenly realized that i wasn't going to die after all.

She stood over me a little more than pissed.

"No More Nightmares! Understood?" She stood a few feet away from me fists clenched focused and determined to knock them out of me.

i whimpered a half hearted, "ok" still trembling a little from the fright.

"Are you alright." She was intense. "Huh? Answer me."

"i'm alright i suppose." still shook up from Her smacking around.

"Good ... Now, go to sleep." "Now, no more nightmares. you aren't going to have anymore. Understood?" i said, "yes, Mistress." then She was gone.

i turned over on my side sobbing quietly. my eye was watering profusely and now i felt the characteristic twitching associated with being punched near the eye. i thought for sure that she had blackened it. it was starting to close involuntarily. time would tell.

goose egg ...

i have a fairly substantial knot on my head as my Mistress recently clobbered me with a rum bottle, then slapped me silly with a soup spoon. a slight headache is beginning to ensue. Looking for the ibuprofen.

a peaceful, desirable place to be ...

i know i would be good at this. i think of myself as a

fast learner. hoping for an opportunity ... but, i will wait and be patient.

a quote worth re-posting ...

this is an awesome quote. i am still learning. at times i stumble and fall. and there are instances when my own needs get in the way of pleasing my Mistress. when that happens, i am ashamed and promptly rebuffed, yet my Mistress is understanding and patient with me. i derive great pleasure from being included in Her life and fulfilling Her wants, desires and wishes. it is not about me ... it is about always being available and serving Her.

*the last line should have an upper case "H" for "Her" rather than a lower case h.*

it slices ... it dices ... it makes you into julienne fries ... *gulp*

it can also disembowel you, cut your balls off, rip out your throat, or slice you up into razor thin hibachi steaks and next weeks cold cuts. it is my Mistress's toy. Her claw. Her deadly, lethal enforcer.

it leaves no doubts what-so-ever as to who makes the rules and who is charge of Her house and lair. my thoughts raced back to the last time i experienced the gore of these blood lusting blades. She scratched my scalp so hard with it, that the top of my hairline was left deeply gouged and bleeding.

when i saw it today, i went completely numb. my throat collapsed and went dry and i felt a total blackness and heaviness envelop me. i went limp, gasped and swallowed hard, and

finally had to leave the room to catch some needed air. my submissive emotions seemed to have run amuck.

somewhere ... my Mistress is laughing and plotting.

the human washing machine

i must admit that i am stymied and frustrated at times when my Mistress asks me to hand wash something for Her. i am happy to do so, but fear that the technique i have been using is rather heavy handed and may be damaging and detrimental to Her delicates and wardrobe. i have been seeking advice and methods used which equate with superior hand washing. recently, i found this post, and i would like to share it with Y/you. these explicit instructions clearly identify and outline the procedures which should be used when engaged in any type of hand washing.

~fishpaste~

from BossyMsBecky's Tumblr blog

Fabrics do not improve by soaking: they may actually deteriorate, especially when soaked in a detergent. Consider yourself a human washing machine, the difference being that you can be so much more gentle than a machine. The action is in the moving. Soaking is not helpful in obtaining the result: those minutes you now let items soak, are put to better use by continuing swishing around. I imagine it will actually shave off a few minutes off the time neeeded!

And now you want the instructions I once gave him? Listen very carefully, I shall say this only once (but it’s as simple as 1-to-10).

1. Change regularly. The panties I wear to the office I do not wear in the evening. And those I wear in the evening I do not wear at night. Bras I also change frequently, but need not be washed as often: just let them rest after use and wash only after wearing them 2 or maybe even 3 times. Stockings are washed after every use. Other garments: depends.

2. Buy the right soap. I’m convinced Forever New Fabric Care Wash is the best, but there may be other good brands out there. If nothing else is at hand, use (baby) shampoo.

3. Wash in cool water (between cold and lukewarm). Change water when washing different colors.

4. Don’t soak! Swish around for about 5-8 minutes.

5. Thoroughly rinse each item. Wringing: squeeze but don’t twist!

6. Pre-dry by placing the items between towels. Press gently (not on molded cups obviously!).

7. Hang to dry as neatly as possible (“pre-ironing”).

8. Iron gently.

9. Fold (if applicable).

10. Put in proper place.

a pleasant surprise ...

my Mistress has returned from Her long extended Thanksgiving vacation. i am so happy to have Her back here with me! even if it is only for a brief stay ... it still is an awesome homecoming! :D welcome back my dear Mistress! sleep well ... ZzZzZ ... (-_-)

symptoms of emasculation

a younger Female colleague and i have been assigned to work together on an important project at my employers. today, W/we met and discussed the logistics and parameters of the project. W/we set up some deadlines and talked about making some realistic and reachable goals. i thought things went quite well. however, as i was getting up to leave to head for home, i felt a tug on my jacket. She pulled me rather abruptly down to Her level and said,

"You know ... if You mess this up for Me, i'm going to have to punch you." i didn't know what to say? my mind went completely blank and i must of turned fifty different shades of pale. then the thoughts careened into my mind.

"does She know?" "does She suspect something?" "am i truly showing it that much?" "has She figured it out?" my mind was racing in twelve different directions. condemning me and cowering at the same time.

finally, after what seemed like an eternity, She released me.

She brushed off the sleeve of my jacket and said, "relax..., i'm just messing with you. i breathed easily. She continued to question and acted in amused puzzlement. "Hey, are you ok? you look kinda sick?"

i brushed it off and said that i had pains from something that i ate and that maybe i should use the restroom. She accepted my explanation and finally released the cuff of my jacket. i then, quickly left not bothering to look back.

as i drove home i started thinking about being submissive, and if i am "flaming"? does it really show that much? ... even when i am out in public? do i give off signals that i am totally emasculated? now, i am terribly worried.

gasp! *on the verge of passing out*

now that, ... is what i call a "rectum ripper."

i think that this is all any of us truly wants :)

a repost from tumblr by: Not-all-that-Nice

... and any other pets who have come and who might follow.

I am your friend first of all. I will laugh with you, tease you and enjoy your company. You are precious to Me. I am loyal to you My friend, care for you - and yes, occasionally nag at you.

I am your Mistress second. I love you in this aspect. I cherish you and I adore you. I am always aware of you, as a person.

I am not always aware of what you need from Me, and sometimes you may need to hint. Just keep in mind that I am always your friend firstly, and you can always talk to Me. If I’m too overbearing you can always tell Me to tone it down. You always have the power to say no.

After all, I am still only human, I break down like anyone else, I feel emotions, I will mess up. So I ask for your patience. I am your Mistress because you are there. Because there is this arrangement between us. And I will always be humbled that you put such trust in Me, even when I’m punishing you, breaking you down, or demanding that you do something.

I love you. And I want you to never forget it.

eeeeek !!! ... it's the "Peanuts" apocalypse!

i dunno ... just had to post this. enjoy.

should of flossed ... lol!

thinking of someone in particular ...

the evidence is all around Her house ... ;D

nutcracker

*gulp* ... presented rather "tongue in cheek", or should i say "heel in cheek", with the best intent of the season.

fortune cookie

well, in my case ... the word "spanking" would be crossed out and written in it's place would be the punitive, word "beating". ;)

"Go to your room NOW!"

i have noticed that more and more i am losing my ability to have a free will since my Mistress has taken physical control and possession of Her lair. What was once mine is now Hers and i am delighted and proud to be Her houseboy, servant and boyfriday, cleaning and

straightening and organizing for Her. a sounding board for bouncing off Her creative and imaginative ideas and of course a readily available masochistic plaything when Her sadistic twitching and urges kick into overdrive. this has been an overwhelming, wonderful experience for me. my life has so much more focus, edge and purpose in serving. in the beginning, there were some rough spots that had to be negotiated, this is the recollection of one such instance.

i noticed this recently coming home one evening from a hard, extended day of work. my Mistress texted Me while i was finishing up in a meeting.

"Get your butt over here and all."

i texted Her that i was on my way home and would be home soon.
i was patently nervous and extremely anxious. i hadn't seen Her in 6 days and i was going through some serious withdrawal issues. pulling into my parking slot i was flooded with emotions. i was tired, exhausted and kind of on edge since returning from an exceedingly long and boring business meeting. i was also famished, as i hadn't eaten since 10:45AM that day. all i really wanted to do was to dump my crap on the floor, kick off my shoes and crash on the couch for awhile.

stepping into my home i was greeted by my Mistress and Her other family member.

She was abrupt and to the point as usual.

"how soon can you be ready to go ... W/we have all been invited to a friend of mines house? Go upstairs and change and be ready to go in 5 min."

something snapped inside of me. i was pooped, and literally reeling on my feet... "a party?" no ...(?!)

"no Mistress, i'm sorry, but i am just wiped out after today. i just think that i would be dead on my feet and probably fall asleep in a chair." She kind of glared at me, but said nothing ... then seemed to half heartedly excuse me from the invite.

"Well, ok, but are you sure? i really think that You should go. Its a potluck and there is going to be tons of food." i don't really remember Her saying anything. W/we stepped into the kitchen and omg! it looked like a bomb had exploded in there. there were dirty dishes all over the place! it looked as if every dish, fork knife and spoon had been used! there were spills all over the stove, counter and some chocolate smudges were even on the wall. i'm not sure what happened, but at that point i just lost it. *literally*

omg! you guys! this place is a mess! why! do you think that i want to come home to such a disaster as this! what were You think ...! my Mistress wouldn't let me finish that sentence.

"WHAT THE FUCK! I JUST DROVE FOR TWO HOURS AND THIS IS THE KIND OF A GREETING THAT I GET FROM MY SLAVE! SO THE FUCK WHAT IF THE KITCHEN IS A MESS! THAT IS NO WAY FOR you TO GREET ME WITH RESPECT!" She was angry, livid, and rightly so, but i felt that i was being taken advantage of and the big picture was quite fuzzy and distorted through my anger and rage.

but, i did not stand down. i only made it worse by taking a passive aggressive stance against Her. "ah ... thats right, as usual i am the one who is always wrong and You are always right. thanks alot for making another mess for me to clean up! " i started to sulk and walk away and She exploded!

"WHERE THE FUCK DO you THINK your'e GOING!? I HAVEN'T DISMISSED you yet! GET your ASS BACK HERE AND ASK ME PROPERLY TO BE DISMISSED!" it was at this point that i realized that i had jumped off the edge and if i hadn't i'm sure at this point that my Mistress would of been delighted to push me off. She stared me down and i felt an icy claw yank my collar up and spin me around to face the consequences for my poor choice of behavior.

"TURN your MUTHA FUCKING ASS AROUND NOW! i turned around to see my Mistress angrier than i had ever seen Her before. Her eyes were scalding hot as She stared holes through me and Her fists were white and clenched tightly around a wooden spoon and spatula.

i turned around to speak ... but Her sharp tongue cut and sliced me down to size before i could get two words together.

"DON'T you EVEN DARE TRY TO SPEAK TO ME! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME AND GO TO your ROOM NOW!"

i tried to register a weak protest, but realized that i was in a very futile, precarious position with Her. She was right ... i was way out of line ... what i had done was downright insubordinate in regard to the D/s relationship.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY SIGHT!I DON'T EVEN WANT TO SEE you! NOW GO!"

Her words burnt and seared a hole into my already fragile, delicate state. i had never seen Her so putout and angry with me. W/we had always had an amiable and friendly relationship. but, this was going too far! afterall, this was my house! who was She to think that She could send me to my room in my own home!

Her words really hurt me. but, i had a choice. i could either stand there and argue with Her, or take my punishment and try to learn what it meant. i trudged upstairs, Her caustic fiery reprimand was still ringing in my ears.

true, this was my house, but it was now Hers. i was Hers. Her's? i was her pet. i belonged to Her. everything that i had ... was also Hers. giving a Mistress "total power exchange in a bdsm lifestyle relationship means ceding to your Mistress the power to rule and govern over you. it is this control that She manifests which is comforting but at the same time quick and punative in terms of judgement.

i felt awful ... devastated ... angry ... and most of all hurt. i trudged upstairs and pouted for what seemed like an eternity, trying to contemplate what i had done wrong. i'm not sure as to how long i was in my room with the door closed. i didn't want to see anybody, talk to anybody, or hear from anyone. i wanted to be left alone to fester and pustule in the dregs of my self pity.

but ... my stomach would not let me. i tried to sleep a bit, hoping that the dream state would erase the entire blighted episode from my fractured psyche. but, the grumblings of my stomach would not be silenced and afterall, it had been almost 12 hours since i had eaten.

i was starting to calm down now, but was choked with incredible guilt and self hatred of what i had done to my Mistress and the way i had behaved in front of Her.i felt like a chastened school boy and was ultimately humiliated and embarrassed by the entire episode.

i decided to text Her to ask her forgiveness and apologize for my boorishness.

i asked Her to forgive me and apologized for not greeting Her in the proper manner after Her return. it was a simple note. i ended it with a simple request that i be allowed to leave my room.

i didn't hear anything from Her. pacing back and forth and biting my fingernails to nubs, i festered and sweated. "omg, She must really be pissed with me. what can i do? i hate having Her angry with me. maybe my apology wasn't contrite or heartfelt enough. She must think that i wasn't sincere in how i presented it/" my throat went dry and the gnawing numbness inside of me enlarged and started to chew on me a little. i waited ... paced ... and then tried again. this time, i begged, grovelled and threw myself at Her feet in a nondescript heap of guilt, pain and circumspect agony. She had to listen ... She had to respond!

i groveled, and begged for forgiveness and told Her how her anger with me felt like a gnawing hole which made me feel numb and useless all over. i continued to pace and wait for an eternity. She had given me no instructions when She had left and now i felt like i was in limbo; fettered and unable to make amends or please her. it ached inside me.

suddenly, it came. "Stop your whining, pet .... and yes, I do forgive you. Actually, I have pretty much forgotten all about what happened. And, I wasn't angry ... well, maybe just a smidge :P, but that is back in the past."

She continued ... "And yes, you may come out of your room and clean-up the kitchen. W/we will be heading home shortly and then W/we can talk some more about what happened."

i was ecstatic! my Mistress had forgiven me!

needless to say, i immediately felt the pangs and feelings of guilt lift from off of me.

i do not enjoy having my Mistress angry and upset with me. i also believe that She likewise does not particularly relish this either. similar to vanilla relationships, anger and misunderstanding when not addressed properly can place a real wedge in a relationship. it is best to talk things out as soon as possible and to not allow other things to build up and fester. a Mistress must step into the role of a disciplinarian when Her submissive gets out of line. this of course, is the natural order of things in regard to the dynamics of a Female led relationship. as for me, the knowledge that i have been a dissappointment to Her just literally tears me up inside and kills me. :( i am unable to move ahead with my life and have a great deal of difficulty functioning. these feelings gradually dissipate with time, but as i have gotten closer to my Mistress i find that She is inextricably tangled and emeshed in my head. i think about Her quite often and am constantly eager to find new ways to please and be a good servant to Her.
these feelings and emotions grow ever stronger day by day and i am told that this is certainly normal within the confines of a bdsm relationship.

arguments and disagreements are ineviatable thoughout life, but they needn't derail relationships. they should serve as tools and as guides for sharpening the confidences between true friends.

the dastardly, bloody gash ...

i was sitting in the kitchen doing some work on my lap top. W/we had just had an "awkward" tiff of a moment between U/us. Y/you know the kind where there is this feeling of this unbelievable letdown. i believe it happens when two people misread or fail to correctly interpret exactly what the needs of the other person truly are. i had wanted to serve my Mistress and be close to Her all weekend. i had not had the opportunity to do so. i so desired to experience a high with Her and just perhaps massage and rub Her feet. but, i misinterpreted how She was truthfully feeling. She was quite stressed and irritated with the fact that She was unable to complete the tasks She had assigned to Herself and the fact that i wanted something in addition from Her had not put Her in the most pleasant or desirable of moods. i asked respectfully if i could help Her to relax by rubbing Her feet. She snapped back coldly, and matter of factly told me,

"No,I have too many things on my mind at the present. I'm sorry you didn't get what you wanted today, but i'm much too preoccupied at the present."

i got the message. i got up a bit hurt, and abruptly exited the living room. when She asked if there was anything wrong, i said "no." and went into the kitchen, got out my laptop and prepared to immerse and bury myself in my work. it worked for awhile, but when two people live together for quite awhile, you get to know them ... their moods, make-up, feelings and emotions. that emotional connection and deepness sometimes hurts and can be rubbed raw; but it is also what strengthens the bonds and deepens the roots of the human experience and interaction. it is certainly not any different with a friendship,or a bdsm relationship.

after working for 15 minutes or so, i received a text from my Mistress.

"I really didn't need to be thinking of what one more person wanted from Me right now. I don't need any more stress, and you thinking more about what you wanted out of a situation than what I needed gives me more stress, or at the very least makes things more awkward. I need to shower, I need laundry done, I need to pack, maybe briefly nap and then I need to drive 9+ hours. I'm sorry you didn't get what you wanted, but I really don't need to be worrying about that right now. I've already got plenty to worry about, including ... (She went on with the text, but i didn't read any further).

the clicking of the keys of my laptop were like therapy for me. it was good to take my mind off what had just transpired between U/us. so much so, that i barely noticed when She walked back into the kitchen.

She stopped in front of the fridge then faced me, "So, what are you doing?"
"just working." i shrugged. i continued to type at the keyboard, while She filled up a glass of water.

there was an awkward silence between U/us. then i spoke up.

"i'm sorry Mistress for thinking more of my own needs than that of yours. what i did ... i hesitated ... what i did was just incredibly selfish. i should of been more sensitive and aware of Your needs."

She paused and drank some water. "No, I have been a prick to just about everyone today. I get myself into these messes and I'm the one who should know better."

" a prick Mistress? ... how can You be a prick?" i asked innocently.

She continued ... "Oh, I'm so fucking mad at those people who made those promises to me and then fucking flaked out!" "If I could just be in a room with that girl, with the door shut, I would show Her how much of a coward she is! She was pissed,and angry. "I wish I could beat the #%&* out of both of them."

She placed both hands on the fridge and sighed heavily.

yet, now She had also picked up a small bowl and was playfully tossing it to and fro between Her hands.

"Ohhh I wish I could just ..." a sly smile slithered across Her lips.

She came over to me and smacked me hard in the back of the skull with the small ceramic bowl. the pain was intense, but i was able to rub it out. i watched Her as She tightened Her lips, grimaced and then struck me hard again, this time with the brim of the bowl. it made a loud cavernous, hollow sound and this time hurt like hell! She bent down and spoke into my face. Her pupils were widened and looked like popped buttons. Her expression was cold, hardened and emotionless. She cracked me two more times. the pain was exquisite but excruciating. i rubbed the back of my skull hard with my hands. but already, two swollen lumps were forming.

"Mmmmmmmmmm very nice." She took on the air of a concerned, physician checking the sutures of a wound ... so how does that feel?" She poked, probed and prodded the back of my skull and seemed determined yet disappointed that no cracks or fissures had emerged. i continued to rub the back of my head hard, hoping that the throbbing would soon dissipate.

"I knew that edge would be perfect." She stood a few feet away from me near the refrigerator and tossed the bowl up single handed in the air and caught it a few times. Her cockiness was unsettling, and something told me that i was about to be sacrificed to appease and satisfy Her anger. *gulp*, my intuition was dead on.

She planted Her high arched feet firmly on the vinyl floor. the stretchy fabric on the bottoms of Her tight yoga pants covered half of Her feet, as Her toes peeked in and out and stretched and curled circumspectly. Her eyes widened and then narrowed. i suddenly knew what it was like to be one of those people that was strapped to a wooden board while someone threw daggers at you.

i swallowed and prepared for the knock that was about to come. She held the bowl at the front, fingering the front brim with Her long dextrous digits. She tossed the bowl, but Her aim was decidedly off. it smacked into the blinds with a metallic clackle, upending them in no apparent order.

She bit Her lip and said, "Aw fuck, my aim is terrible today." i knew She wouldn't miss again. My Mistress never made errors twice. She would compensate and recalculate the trajectory and this time not miss.

this time Her aim was perfect! stepping back She faced me sideways and took the stance like that of a determined pitcher. She blew a few stray black hairs out of Her face and then brought the bowl up just to Her eye level to take aim at the target. my forehead. it seems to have always held a sadistic fascination for Her. it is a big, blank surface and presents my Mistress with many wonderful opportunities to either write, scratch, scrawl, pound or pummel upon on. the end result is always the same; my pain, degradation and humiliation. it seems to provide an endless creative outlet for Her entertainment.

needless to say, Her aim was "dead on balls accurate", and the end result was quite satiating.

CRACK!

the power and impact of Her blow knocked me cross-eyed for a second. i felt the immediate smash of pain and bent over my computer keyboard, hoping that my head would clear and the dizziness subside. then i felt and saw a darkened crimson ooze drip and spot onto the kitchen table and the keys of my laptop. i reached up to my forehead and accidently smeared blood with my fingertips.





"Oh ... Oh ... Let me see!" i heard Her say with delight. "Oh wow! How wonderful ... how beautiful!" She sang out with a bawdy, lusty laugh. Her eyes were wide with femdom amazement. "I just knew that bowl had the right edge for this!"

She was so proud of Herself and the ensuing bloody gash which was now pouring profusely out of the middle of my forehead.

"A ... Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha!" She laughed so hard at my expense. i walked up to the sink. She scolded the cats for trying to lick up my bloody trail and then returned to admire Her sadistic handy work.

She took my camera and snapped some candids, and watched as i dabbed the bloody, gaping wound with paper towels and applied cold compresses to reduce the swelling, satisfied that i wasn't going to die or lapse into convulsions, She spoke with an air of nonchalance,

"ok, once you have tended to your wound, I want you to go and fix me some dinner with that meat and mashed potatoes. and, make sure that the gash is covered. I don't want any blood in my food."

epilogue ...

i know what i do and how i serve my Mistress can be construed as being on the precipice of the weird, strange and the realm of the abnormal. yes, it is perceived that way to an uptight, conforming society. yet, it is who i identify with and who i am deep down past the reticent layers of my vanilla self. i accept and embrace the masochistic side of me. i accept and acquiesce to that darkened side of me. it cries out to be satisfied and the voice has steadily grown stronger and more prevalent in my life over the years.

as such, i am ever thankful and grateful to be the pet and slave to a intelligent, clever, creative and beautiful Mistress who recognizes the dominance, control and power that She manifests over me and is not afraid to use it to Her advantage. true, She is a bloodthirsty creature at times and She delights and feeds on the physical pain and torment of others. this is a need that i readily fulfill. i have noticed that once She is satisfied with Her victim's sacrifice of pain and torture, She then resumes a calm,and focused state. ready to tackle the issues of Her empire and Her world.

indeed, in this instance, once She was satisfied that i was cleaned, bandaged, and butterflied up, She put me to work finishing Her laundry, sorting, packing and cooking dinner, while She relaxed and engaged in a hot shower. fulfilling Her needs are always paramount, and it is my desire and pleasure to do so. W/we both benefit by serving the needs of one another. Sadist and masochist linked together through the administering and acceptance of pain and suffering. it is my belief that these times and moments strengthen the bonds of submission and trust.

ultimately, i am always proud to wear the marks of my Mistress; more so now, even publicly. they are the marks of my indenture and the marks of Her control and ownership over me. the butterflied bandaged gash serves as a reminder to me of the physical connection and emotional links that continues to develop and exists between U/us. i spill my blood willingly for Her sanctity, amusement and peace of mind.

it is for Her ultimate pleasure that i delight in serving.

happy thanksgiving ... a funny and sadistic, yet telling clip

Wednesday Addams: "Wait, we can not break bread with you. You have taken the land which is rightfully ours. Years from now my people will be forced to live in mobile homes on reservations. Your people will wear cardigans, and drink highballs. We will sell our bracelets by the road sides, and you will play golf. My people will have pain and degradation. Your people will have stick shifts. The gods of my tribe have spoken. They said do not trust the pilgrims. And especially do not trust Sarah Miller. For all these reasons I have decided to scalp you and burn your village to the ground."



my Mistress has very strong feelings when it comes to the reasons for not celebrating the thanksgiving holiday, and i am inclined to agree with Her. it is a celebration which is jaded in that it glorifies the disenfranchising and subjectification of one culture of people over the other.

let U/us remember that this country was not originally ours, but that which belonged to the native americans whom W/we uprooted with great force and corraled on reservations and forced them to adapt and learn O/our language, culture and customs. history may of certainly been portrayed and recorded differently had the native americans risen up, rebelled and refused to help the pilgrims.

with that in mind, have a thoughtful, thanksgiving which reflects on the contributions of both western europeans and native americans alike.

i found a couple of stray ...

... dark strands of hair left behind by my Mistress, lurking behind the curtain in the shower. They crawled up my leg and almost choked me today.

after a brief struggle, i was able to subdue and apprehend The errant hairs and firmly attach Them to Her hair conditioner bottle.

a minor victory for the time being, but who knows what else creeps. slithers and crawls in My Mistresses' bathroom. eeeeeeeeek! *cue "Psycho" theme music* oh no .... not a random toe nail clipping!

"you fucking boys are funny ..."

Reposted from Tumblr via Blessednica

you fucking boys are funny. I can beat the crap out of you. Don’t think otherwise because I’m a Woman.

For someone that is taking and knows self defense…

Don’t say you can beat me with your martial arts shit. It’s in fact an “art” and takes years to master much less get out of the “art” stage. The difference for Self Defense for women (since I’m in that class and taking it now) is that even though it’s through school, ALL of the techniques can be taught to you in half a day and it can save your life. If you want to learn how to DEFEND YOURSELF you take a self defense class.
So before you say “I can kick your ass, I know boxing,” please remember I’ve been trained to do the following:
1. rip your balls and/or dick off.
2. hit you in the throat and either kill you or knock you out.
3. And I can pop your eyes out of your eye sockets or make you blind with just my fingers and speed of my attack.
Ha, Ha ... ;P I win.

some thoughts on my perception of bdsm

 

i have come to the realization that BDSM in the realm which i have experienced, isn’t just about sex. it is a tight, emotional bond that helps break down the walls and psychological boundaries by exploring the physical ones. essentially, O/ones role is built upon the basis and foundation of who W/we are and who W/we are about to become from O/our experiences under the lens and focus of BDSM.
... For a submissive, it means a true act of affection and oneness that seeks to consume your heart and soul.
... For the dominant,it means taking over someone completely that You feel affection for and overpowering him. it fulfills You and produces creative energy which in turn manifests itself over the submissive.

for both, it is the act of giving essential parts of O/oneself to the other through power, trust, control, acceptance and finally submission.

of course ... i could be just full of shit trying to rationalize what i have experienced.


 

more lumps and bumps for my noggin

"Mmmmmmm ... I do so ENJOY hurting you."

(a mocking, yet somewhat comforting remark i heard from my Mistress after She had smashed Her elbow down hard into my battered skull. then She clocked me in the forehead with a drinking glass. (*multiple times*)

after that, i could swear i wasn't seeing stars, but Her sneakers instead.

an ordinary dream or a future premonition?

last night i had an amazing dream. i dreamed that i was employed by my Mistress in Her huge entertainment division corporate offices. She was the hard assed, down to brass tacks CEO and i was her personal assistant ... well, secretary for all practical purposes. She was "dressed to the nines" and the power and authority she exuded over

everyone was mind boggling and jaw dropping. She looked and acted every bit the role and had me hurrying and scurrying all over the place fulfilling assignments for her, taking care of appointments, writing letters, answering emails and even retrieving Her cleaning and making sure that Her apartment was clean and spotless. i was in sub bliss and was disappointed when i awoke and suddenly faced morning reality.

it was a wonderful dream and i felt such a rush when i woke up. it left me somewhat disoriented. but, who knows? it could happen? perhaps one day?

my Mistress doth decketh me affectionately ... me thinks?

i was sitting in the kitchen working on my laptop when my Mistress came in to get a glass of water. She took one look at me and said,

"How's it goin' fishface?"

before i could reply She launched three rock, hard knuckle punches to the side of my face. i could hear my ears suddenly ringing and feel the welcoming warmth of Her pain on my cheek.

"i'm lookin' at my e ..... (never quite finished that sentence before She clocked me again)

"Huh, i didn't quite get that?" She looked at me quizzically.

i was a bit loopy after those punches, and tried to respond, but before i could She punched me hard three or four more times in succession; cracking me hard in the jaw with Her final jab.

"No ... (punch), need ...(jab), to ... (sock) answer (wallop) ..."

i was feeling dizzy and seeing stars ... maybe just a little.

She probed my reddened, puffed out cheek with her dextrous fingers.
then uttered a response of satisfaction

"Mmmmmmmmmmmm ... Nice."

Exiting with Her glass of water She returned and resumed Her work, leaving me to ponder or was it pounder the fist prints She had left.

an unexpected briefing #airnzhobbit

the coolest airline safety demo i have ever seen! it compels me to go to middle earth! :)

to all Y/you kinksters out there.

have a happy freaky, "fucking" halloweeen

from my Mistress and me.

words my Mistress lives by

"An Ye Harm None, Do What Ye Will"

meow ...

Happy Halloween!

x marks the spot ... part deux

my Mistress has a certain affinity for my forehead. She delights in poking, scratching and making it bleed on numerous occasions with random sharp objects. as such, She enjoys marking up my forehead with Her trademark "Xs". why Y/you may ask? i think the Xs serve as a mark which for all practical purposes are reminders that i am nothing more than an object a "target", for Her pugilistic impulses. yesterday She took a sharp pointed ball point pen and tried to mark my forehead with ink. but, unfortunately, my head was damp with perspiration. that did not detour Her though; She grabbed my chin with her free hand and dug the point of the pen in hard, scratching and furrowing into the skin's soft surface.after the third pass She exhibited a satiated grin and said,

"There, good luck with that fading anytime soon." She was right. the next day at work people came up to me and said,"Hey is that an x on your forehead? Didja go to the doctor for some kind of a test, or something?"

i would just smile and say that i was preparing to be a zombie for Halloween and my roommate was experimenting on me with some real looking latex and that the marks were left over from too strong a setting.

i couldn't tell the truth even if i had wanted to. no one would understand the pleasure derived at being bullied, written on and beaten by an aggressive, Dominant younger Woman. no one in the vanilla world that is.

the point is that i like living with one foot in the vanilla world and the other in a purple and bruised one. there is a certain thrill, danger and excitement that i feel when i know that my Mistress's physical marks are quite apparent and in full view to the vanilla world.

but ... i could be running out of explanations. i could take a hiatus for awhile from the fun, or remove all the sharp, pointed objects from O/our home.

hmmmmmmmm ... nah!

smacks

happiness is walking around work all day with your Mistress's footprints smeared all over your glasses. B-) a pleasant, subtle, reminder of the brutal, yet efficient manner She uses to clobber and smack the daylights out of you with just a pair of sandals.

re-affirmation

things are much better between my Mistress and i. i am still Her pet, and that means everything to me in the world! today i was privileged to assist Her in preparing for an important photo shoot. it was almost like old times. i located all the items of the wardrobe She asked me to find and didn't freak out once. it was a happy, enjoyable and pleasant day.

simple things

it has almost been a year since i went into full service as a slave for my endearing Mistress. as such, i was thinking about the things that make me happy when i'm with Her. i know they may seem simple and inconsequential, but they are important to me.
i love to hear my Mistress praise me rather than belittle and tear me down. i appreciate that She truly values my gift of submission and expects respect and obedience in return from me. i love it when my Mistress assigns a list of chores or work to me and then She inspects and makes sure that i follow through. sometimes, my work is not up to Her exacting standards and i will have to redo what is unacceptable. it is important to see that She cares to follow through. it shows that She values my work.

nothing pleases me more than to be shown off in front of my Mistress's Girlfriends. it brings a special satisfaction and enjoyment to have the ability to cook and serve a meal for Her and Her friends.

i enjoy the quiet times, when she allows me to be at peace curled by Her amazing feet while She reads or texts. i love when She sees fit to yank my hair, look into my eyes and call me Her "good boy". it is also a privilege to be able rub and massage Her feet when She allows me.

finally,i also enjoy Her slaps, punches, kicks, ear pinches, chokes, pokes, scratches and tweaks. physical pain and contact are important to me. they are sensations of Her acceptance and physical affection and affirmation of me.

sometimes, all that is needed is to be splattered and face planted with ooey, gooey marinara sauce. yep, that should do it! :)

recovery

i have recently felt terrible, both physically and mentally. in the physical sense, i have have had a month long bout with a cold which started as a sniffle then morphed into bronchittus and is now a sinus buster. it has made me irritable and grumpy, but i am happy to say that i am finally poised for recovery.

mentally i have been disagreeable with my Mistress for a week or so. it has placed me on the outside with Her and produced a significant wedge between U/us. i can feel Her disappointment in me. Since this has happened, i have been utterly miserable, not being able to please Her and feeling so distant from Her. yet, in all things,i have discovered that there is a lesson to be learned. the problem is, that sometimes, i am not willing to be taught.

a bdsm relationship,and friendship is not unlike that of a vanilla one. there are ups and downs and arguments and disagreements. that is life. that is how W/we all roll.

i am happy to say that things seem to be better with my Mistress and i. i still respect Her and love to serve Her, but i also realize that there may be times when She needs to go into Herself and may leave me on the outside for awhile. i guess there is nothing wrong with barking or whining a little to let Her know that i am still out there waiting ... ready to serve ... ready to play ... ready to listen ... always a willing friend.

smudges

as i was driving today into the sun i noticed the besmirched markings of my Mistress's sneakers pand dirty feet prints on my windshield. each greasy mark was an account of a travel, a short journey or a privileged errand i had run with Her. the prints of Her toes were clearly seen as were the balls of Her high arched feet. it brought me back to a moment when i watched with rapt fascination as lShe braced the soles of Her painted toes against my windshield, let the wind play with the curled snags and tangles of Her thick dark hair, and then casting me an impish grin said.

"you know, I could easily kick out your windshield with only my feet. perhaps I/lw should try? Should I?"

with that being said ...

Many people will walk in and out of your life,
but only true friends will
leave footprints on your windshield.*

*my apologies to Eleanor Roosevelt ... :)

balance

everything that i have read about bdsm relationships indicates that their should be a balance between the Domme and the sub and their respective behaviors towards each other; the yin and the yang so to speak. i think in the beginning of O/our relationship that this was true. however, now things have changed. my Mistress treats me with indifference many times. i have felt a pulling away between U/us. i do not believe from my end, but more so from Hers.

perplexed

i had a major disagreement today with my Mistress. is this just another nail in the coffin between U/us?

i wish this wasn't so, but ...

i feel like my Mistress and i are starting to drift apart. i don't understand why, and this bothers me greatly.

She is coming ... and i am going

my dear Mistress is back home again ... , and i am glad :)

but, now i must leave for business and i am sad. :(

but, hopefully only for a short time.

feeling creative today ...

(sung to the tune of My Favorite Things)

"black yoga pants and fragrant worn sneakers, tight fisted gloves and ribbed "boy-beaters, and that look in Her eye that says ... "i can, and thats why. now, don't get too close or i'll poke out your eye."

when the knife cuts ...
when the hand slaps ...
when She kicks my balls ...

i simply remember the way She beats me
and then how she makes me crawl.

i miss my Mistress ... :(

Martial arts audition

i like this quote ...

it's not easy ...

i feel like this is me ... many times.

i had a dream last night ...

i had a dream last night.



i had a dream last night in which my Mistress and i were eating at a restaurant. seemingly enjoying a meal together.



however there was something strange about this scene? She couldn't move Her arms to feed Herself, so i felt inclined to feed Her.



yet, as i fed Her She seemed to not only eat the food i was feeding Her, but also began to ingest parts of Me as well, until there were only stubs left of my arms and legs. indeed with each bite and mouthful of me, She seemed to become stronger, more vibrant powerful and increasingly intimidating as i seemed to slowly disappear, vanish and be consumed within Her.



it was a frightening dream, but i was not scared. i did not wake up screaming or feel threatened that i was in a dark foreboding place. strangely ... i was at peace.



what does it mean? i'm not sure? i don't know.

i wish ... i wish ... i wish ...

but, my Mistress rarely grants me that privilege.

marks of HER territory

a not so subtle reminder that my Mistress can and will be delighted to leave Her tread marks all over Her/my carpet and anyplace else where She cares to trample.

stomp

after She left that day, i found myself inextricably drawn to Her tread marks. They were literally all over my carpet. ... wanting so much to be ground and stamped into that carpet ... to feel Her heavy vibram soles stomp, grind, and crush my face into a cartilaginous goo. *sigh*

O/one can dream, can't they? *sigh*

just a bench ... i saw today ... with ... a ... message

i was taking a walk in a park and i came about this lonely, solitary, rough hewn bench. it's message was clear, direct and certainly past the edge of vanilla.