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some things Y/you should know about me

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atl, GA
this blog is about me and my expressions and acceptance of being a male submissive within a female dominated world. i accept the rule of female dominance and supremacy and realize that it is only a matter of time when this shall be the cultural norm within O/our society. in this blog one will find examples of my art, my writings, jottings, videos, observations and stories which chronicle and revolve around my life and fetishes. throughout this blog i hope to honor the creativity, superior intelligence, strength and physical vitality of women, while at the same time point out the insecurities, shortcomings and frailties of males. as such, this blog has a decidedly Femdomme slant.

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11/24/2012

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.










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