.... Busters

hmmmmm ... i think i may need to get a pair of these for my Mistress. She would probably change the name of the shoe to something else though. can Y/you guess?

http://www.democraticunderground.com/10023115479

here were some of the supportive comments following Ms Davis' 13 hour filibuster to derail the restrictive heavy handed Texas GOP's abortion legislation. She completed this remarkable legislative marathon in Her Mizuno Waverunners. needless to say She has become a prochoice superstar and Her pink and green neon sneakers have become the symbol for personal physical autonomy for Women everywhere.

the paradox and dichotomy of the Female foot

the advent of tenderness, or

the onset of pain?

wodka vodka commercial--very funny for obvious reasons! ;-)

i like this. pics from a tender bdsm animation.

a playful nudge, then a tease in the kitchen.

reposted from LadyOGrady's Tumblr blog.
the pics are from Her blog, but the captions are posted by me.

a taunting reminder of his place in Her world.

"time for a bit of rough play My pet."

"Awwwwe did it hurt that bad?  Here let Me poke it a little. "

"it is about trust My pet. I deeply appreciate your service to Me. There will always be a place in my heart for you."

thoughts

lately, meaningful communication with my Mistress has dried up to a mere trickle. it has been like trying to locate any type of moisture in a parched, dry and deficient desert. there was a time when W/we used to talk, share and check in with O/one another with regular frequency. this was certainly possible also by email.  however, now She has found another and is enamored and occupied with that part of Her life. i have been put on the shelf and shuffled aside. perhaps i am like family, but i feel like the strange uncle that is stuffed into the closet and only brought out when a laugh is needed or his services are required. i hate that this has happened. it truly sucks. :(

couch time :)

sometimes this is all that is needed.

http://submissiveguycomics.tumblr.com/

ha ha ... don't mess with Snow White

the hearse

last night i had another disturbing dream which again shook me up quite badly and rekindled my paranoia which i have acted on today with more than one person.

i was sleeping in a darkened room. the blinds were all shut and there was one solitary person there watching my vital signs. an IV continued to drip into my arm. it was a red liquid which i can only surmise to be blood. i did not ever get a good look at the person's face, but they were dressed in a white suit coat, white pants and red shoes. don't ask me why the shoes were red, i still have not figured that out. the person would not turn around and i was belted into the bed extremely tightly and could not move. with mathematical precision i heard the figure count down to 3,2,1 ... without warning the iv which was pumping red into my veins turned smoky black and i felt like i could not breathe. i tried in vain to scream, but someone had wrapped my mouth in tape. i struggled to free myself, thrashing and jerking myself about. but, the belts only seemed to tighten with each thrust forward.

somehow i was able to free myself. but now i had a bigger problem, as the gurney i was on was being sucked down into the tile. i jumped up and just as i leaped to the crevice of the tile a hand reached out to pull me up. i could not believe it! the gloved hand belonged to my Mistress. She smiled at me and beckoned me to follow Her. She was dressed all in black from head to toe in what appeared to be a chauffer's outfit. W/we somehow made it to the street. everything was smokey and hazy. with apprehension, i saw the headlights of a car drive up. it was a sleek black limousine with the gold initials of my Mistress on the rear panels. W/we ran to the car and She pushed me in. i remember the feeling of the seats. they were red and cushioned soft velvet. finally beginning to relax, i watched the hospital and then the cemetery fade from view. i could just about see ahead of us, but my Mistress's jet black hair covered the view.

i asked Her, "where are W/we going? where are You taking me." i was so grateful to Her for saving me from the sinking floor of the hospital.

all She said was, "you will see ... you will see. it is a place where you deserve to be for all your suffering and pain." i was unable see, but suddenly the velvet got smaller and smaller until i was boxed in like a box. realizing that the box was a coffin, i screamed for my Mistress to stop. but, She wouldn't listen and kept driving on.

i was soon forced to lay down with my hands across my chest. it was then that i noticed a black type of rot seeping in around the corners of the casket withering my limbs and paralyzing me from moving. i could only see the back of my Mistress's head and the mist before us.

W/we finally stopped and i screamed to be released. She bent over my form and said, "W/we can't let You contaminate the population. This is a better end for you and besides, it is much more entertaining for Me. and you do want to please Me, don't you?" She laughed with evil derision.

i gagged and coughed, but could not speak. She patted my cheek and said,

"Awwwwwww ... poor baby ... it will be over soon." i watched helplessly as She stepped out of the hearse. desperate to scream, i felt a lurch, and the hearse moved forward into the jaws of some huge machine. it stopped and then i watched in horrow as my Mistress kissed her gloved fingers, waved bye bye and then walked over to a large green button. i watched in utter helplessness and horror as She smiled a wicked grin and pushed the green button. She pouted and then waved and then walked away with a tall man who held a long shovel with guitar strings on it. i watched hopelessly as they walked away laughing. the jaws of the crusher moved closer and closer to me. i struggled to scream. i felt the sides of the casket giving away and my world going completely black. i couldn't breathe and i felt my legs and arms being crushed. the blood and guts were shooting out of my body. i screamed loudly one last time. suddenly from out of nowhere a hand appeared and pulled me out of the crusher. it was then that i woke up.i do not know who the hand belonged to. i was only grateful to be allowed exit from that personal hell.

i gazed at the clock. it was 4:30AM. sunrise was still far off. i was a mess. sopping wet with sweat and strangling in my bed sheets again. i am quite afraid to go to sleep each night now. my dreams have become places far worse than reality. waking from them makes me question everything that i once knew as believable and true. there has got to be a way to get beyond these hellish experiences and return to some semblance of normalcy. i can only hope.

A Re-Post from Femdom 101 "Redefining Whom W/we Are"

***Blog Re-Post from "Femdom 101" by Mistress Kathy, Fri. June 14, 2013***
http://femdom101.blogspot.com/

i have been reading this blog for quite sometime now, and it really speaks to me as a submissive male who yearns for and needs the control and love of a Dominant Female. this is not about some bdsm fantasy or sexual inuendo. this speaks specifically about transitioning gender roles, lifestyle changes and social progression. it is what is happening today, right now.

Redefining Whom We Are

By now everyone who follows this blog knows that my daughter Becky is married and lives in Atlanta. Well, like a lot of other young people she and her husband live in a suburb of Atlanta.
In the back yard she has a garden and a patio table where we sill sometimes sit when the weather allows. In many ways we are both out side people yet resent the heat.

From what I had understood Becky was up for a promotion at work. It would mean more money, but more responsibilities. It also meant for the first time in her career she would have supervisory responsibility over men as well as women. Although the job was an advancement, she was not really sure it was something she wanted. It would mean more time at the office as well as more time traveling.

Talking about the job and its requirements made me think back to what the world was like when I graduated from college. For the most part the only jobs open to women were teachers, nurses, and secretaries. There was no career path for women other than having a baby and staying home. There was no such thing as having a man work under the supervision of a female. If so, and anyone knew about it, he would have been teased to no end.

Becky entered the job world at a time when employers were looking for women. Aside from what she hears from mom and sees on shows like Mad Men she has no practical understanding of what is was to be a working woman in the 50s, 60s, or early 70s. I mentioned to her that we are all in the process of redefining our selves. Women are now doing jobs that once were only held by men, and men are doing some jobs that were formally done by women. In a way this is good in that it allows more people the flexibility to do what they want instead of what society forces them to do.

The changes, I reminded her are not only about what is happening at work, but also in home. Becky is very aware of the relationship her father and I have. From time to time she has been given limited supervisory authority over her father. This had occurred for a time last year when John visited by himself. From the start I made it clear to John that in my absence, in Becky's home, she is the boss. John had been in the Atlanta area on business, and I was working. Before the visit I asked John if he could accept the the that in her home Becky is mistress, and is to be obeyed. Although Becky does not really act like a mistress, John is proud of the limited authority she has learned to exercise over her husband. The incident with the movie is just one little example, but the important thing for both Becky and John is to understand that in her home the relationship is different.

In a way we are all redefining the traditional relationships. With women becoming managers, and airline pilots, and whatever, they are redefining how they interact with the world. It is the same for men. It is the same for a father and daughter. Becky has grown up. She is no longer the little college girl. In our world-where men are expected to do as they are told-John understands that the traditional relationship with his daughter has been redefined.

As Becky and I were taking our time talking, sipping coffee her husband came out from the kitchen to offer us a refill. When we finished he picked up the cups, and put them away. This is not about BDSM, whipping a man, or anything like that. This type of femdom is simply about allowing a man who enjoys serving to serve, and about a wife learning the pleasure of having a husband tend to her. In my opinion allowing a husband with submissive needs to perform simple task is really a good first step forward a femdom relationship. If gives both parties a chance to consider if this is really something both of them want.


As Becky's husband picked up the coffee cups she very casually told her husband that when he finished in the kitchen he was to make the bed and start a load of cottons before leaving for work. 'Yes, of course' he answered, 'but what about the ironing you left out'. he replied. 'You can do that later she replied'. Yes, even if it not called femdom or female led, there are families where day in day out women are redefining the traditional role of homemaker and breadwinner. Much of this is good. It allows for both men and for women the freedom to be whom they want to be.

From what I have heard from men it is important for a wife to want her man's service. It is important that she acknowledges to him that he is in fact her servant. It takes some time for a woman to understand all of this. The male brain can be very confusing. From what I have found most of the web sites dealing with aspects of FLRs are trash that cater to male fantasies. They do more harm to the life style than good.

Love you all for reading. Please remember that femdom is not about subjugating men to roles in life that they don't want. It is about giving each of us, me and women, the freedom to be the person we were meant to be. This is often a learning experience. Becky is growing as a leader in her home as well as in her occupation. Her husband is learning to accept his wife's leadership in matters of every day living. Does she whip her husband? No, well not at least as far as I know. Does she give him instructions and simple household duties to perform. Yes, and along the way her husband is learning obedience and the fine art of service to a woman.

Kathy

late ... but thankfully forgiven

last weekend did not start out well. i received a call from my Mistress to pick up a dear friend of Hers and drive Her to my Mistress's favorite sushi restaurant across town. i did not mind doing this, but due to the addled state of my brain and other pervasive things that i'm dealing with in my life, i forgot my credit card to pay for gas.

"fuck!", i didn't notice this until i drove up to the gas station to fill up before the journey. to make matters worse, i had to turn around and drive all the way back home to find the damn card and then retrieve it! now, i was really late! after pumping gas, i was finally on my way to pick - up Her friend.

angry at myself for doing something sooooooooo inane and stupid, i knew due to my lateness, that my Mistress would be calling at any minute. boiling and steaming i waited for Her call.

"hello?"

"Hello, pescado ... where are you? you should be here by now! you and She had better well be on your way down here! are you?

i became stressed and answered Her.

"no, i ..."

She didn't let me finish.

"NO! What do you mean no? I have been waiting here for over an hour, and you mean to tell Me that you haven't even picked Her up yet?"

i stumbled and stammered to reply,

"well, i didn't have my credit card and i couldn't get any gas, because i couldn't find it, so i had to drive back home to get it."

"What! pescado! i am very disappointed. i made these plans at this time, because i have specific plans for this evening! now, i have to wait and spend more time waiting while you drive to get Her, and you still have yet to pick Her up! i'm so very disappointed in you!"

i guess, with everything that is going on in my life, i kinda of lost it, and for the first time, i spoke up rather harshly and abruptly to my Mistress.

"look, i thought i had the card, but didn't... i needed gas to get up there."

but, She continued, which made me feel even more inferior for making this mistake and interfering with the plans She had made.

"NO, you look ... i told you that i have made plans to be somewhere tonight, and could only do this at this time. How long is it going to take for you to get here now? Two Hours! and what am i supposed to do for two hours? just sit here and wait until you both finally show-up?"

my brain was rattled and i just felt terrible being a failure to my Mistress, but i also was angry because i felt like She didn't understand what i was going through. it was at that moment that my tone changed with Her.

i am not proud of what happened, but it did.

i stiffened my back and said with a tone of anger,

"i can't help it! things just happen sometimes!"

"What do you mean, "things happen?" She retorted, "is that going to help anything?"

"NO!" i said, but "sometimes, things happen which make moving ahead more difficult!"
i was frustrated, angry and ashamed all at the same time.
"so, what do You want to do? do you want me to just forget the whole thing?"

i slapped my hand over my mouth in an effort to quell the things that were shooting out of it.

i heard Her disgust through the phone. "I can't believe this ... I just can't believe this! Where are you now?"

"on the highway heading towards (the City)." i knew that would not fly or satisfy Her.

"What Hwy? Give Me the number, please." i could hear the displeasure in Her voice.

i struggled to look at my GPS while driving and talking. "i don't know, it's (the number) and i'm heading up there now to get Her."

She sighed heavily and it just tore me up inside that i had inconvenienced Her and that She was disappointed in my performance.

"Ah well, I guess I shall just have to wait here for an additional two hours until you finally make it here. This is such a disappointment to Me pescado. I really was counting on you to be on time today."

i felt myself now choking up ... and i couldn't really say anything to Her because of the deep pangs of guilt that i felt. "ok, Mistress ... i guess i'll see You then."

i don't know what it is about being a submissive and wanting to please a Mistress, but it seems to be hardwired into me. with every passing year of service these feelings seem to intensify. it just seems extremely satisfying to have Her approval and knowing what i do makes Her indeed content and happy. the same can be true for falling short of Her expectations, and not gaining that important pat on the head or Her acknowledgement of approval. all i know, is that what She requires and what She wants when called upon are paramount. Her needs and wishes are to be obeyed, fulfilled and followed. as i continued to think about this, i realized that my glibness was uncalled for and quite disrespectful. condemnation and guilt tried to smother me, as i wrestled with the way i had presented my attitude to my Mistress.

W/we didn't talk anymore on the phone, and i did finally pick up Her friend and brought Her to the sushi restaurant where i had been instructed. W/we were both quiet at first with one another. anger seldom boils up between U/us. it was an odd feeling. She met U/us both outside the restaurant and i watched from a distance as She hugged and embraced Her friend. i lowered my head and walked back. suddenly She came up beside me and clocked me good a couple times in the jaw. nothing was said, but i knew at that point that all seemed to be forgiven.

W/we enjoyed a nice lunch together, and i got a chance to apologize to Her for my ineptness.

"It's alright fishy. You must know that once I set a schedule in motion that it is difficult for Me to have it changed, regardless of the circumstances. So don't do it again!" She played and teased me a bit. She blew a straw at me and then wadded up some paper and nailed me in the face a couple of times.

W/we all laughed and seemed to have a good time. i even had to dodge an occasional flying chopstick launched from Her direction, but ... it was all good.

nightmare dreams

i had another set of frightening dreams, or as it were nightmares, confronting death. lately, my dreams have taken on a macabre and frightening cast which allows my subconscious to be a playground for the terrifying and grim spectres that dabble and play in my mind. usually, i wake up thrashing and screaming, trying to lash out at my imaginary intruders, twisted and contorted in my bed sheets, soaked in sweat. engaged in paranoia that can only be calmed down by a glass of lowfat milk and the switching on of a bedroom lamp. yes, that is usually how it progresses.

last night was no exception. i had three nightmares, and as of this point, i am thoroughly exhausted from battling these conjured demons. i shall try to the best of my ability to recall them. i feel that in some way the recalling of these ghastly apparitions helps in some way for me to come to grips with my own fading mortality.

i have been told that i have a mind which runs too much along the barriers and boundaries of emotion and paranoia. perhaps, that is true. but, usually, in O/our dreams W/we are predestined to work things out in O/our subconscious that are not so "cut and dried" in reality. i enjoy swimming around in other dimensions that open the doorway to feeling and experiencing things so deeply that the periphery between reality and fantasy are blurred. as i swim about in my subconscious, i always hope that the door and light that i left on remain open and burning, so i may return via the quantum path i left. with that being said, i will post the dreams in due time, after i have come to grips with their occurrence and meaning.

my Mistress's resume

my Mistress has hung up Her flogger and paddle.

that being said, She is currently looking for gainful employment.
She has a simple and "to the point resume", which identifies and outlines Her extraordinary strengths, and qualifying job skills.



any questions?

i didn't think so ... ;)

beaten by Her iphone charging cord

my Mistress is unusually adept at turning everyday simple household implements into quite effective weapons. knives, wooden spoons, brushes, drinking glasses, screwdriver, hammers, baseball bats, etc ... what does a pain Dominatrix need toys for when Her lair is practically bursting at the seams with all kinds of torturous household items that have yet to be explored. however, i am beginning to think that She misses the rhythm, sway and bite of Her various whips and floggers. they along with Her other toys are packed away for safe keeping. yet, i have caught Her on multiple occasions picking up electrical cords, extension cords, hair dryer cords and lashing out at anything which walks into Her lair with two legs. unfortunately, that is me.

She seems to adore flagellation. me ... not so much. i was once beaten and whipped so hard by a FemDomme with a cane that the red welts on my ass burst open and copious amounts of blood streamed down my legs into my underwear. i couldn't sit down for a week! luckily this happened during a vacation period, or i would of had quite a difficult time explaining why i was unable to sit at my desk. that was the last time i saw that particular Domme. unfortunately, She had an "on", but no "off", switch. once engaged in a scene She would become incensed and She had great difficulty controlling Her rage. it took an incredible amount of time for Her to calm down, and realize that She had crossed some fatal boundaries. a couple times i ran out of the dungeon naked with my clothes. interestingly enough, after one of those episodes, She would always text me and commanded that i come back. i'm not sure why. it was generally a good session, but very excruciatingly painful.

the Mistress i serve now, still beats me and whips me with a tease and a devilish smirk. recently, She snuck up behind me and swatted me extremely hard three times with Her iphone charging cord. She hit me so hard that a lovely, agonizingly red welt in the shape of the plug raised instantly on my arm. i remained seated until She aimed at my face, then got up and ran like the little wuss and wimp that i am.

"Come back here you little bitch." She laughed and snapped the cord again striking me square in the back of the head. now, that fucking hurt, and i fell down in front of Her feet rubbing the welt on my reddened scalp.

She stood with hands on Her hips in front of my supine form.

"Charge my phone now for me, will you please? and then i want to see you in my room. i have a job for you to do." i was still facedown in the carpet massaging the welt that was ever growing and about to appear.

"And be quick about it. W/we haven't time to wait this evening."

i stand to plug Her phone into the computer, then think,

"ice ... yes, ice would be a very good thing right now."

the blade ... part 2

i have done a bit of research on the dagger my Mistress has been tormenting me with. it appears to be either buddist or hindu in origin. i will go with the later, since the ornamentation appears to be such. it appears that the image is that of Saraswati. She is the Goddess of music, knowledge and the arts. very appropriate for my Mistress, since She is a liberal intellectual at heart and loves the performing and visual arts. The sheath and the handle of the dagger are overlaid in some kind of gold and copper. the detail and artistry of this weapon is exquisite. the overlay of the sheath upon first glance appears to be that of petals of flowers. yet, upon closer observation, one notices that the petals of the flowers seem to transform into the faces of hollow eyed skulls around the circumferance of the sheath. Case in point, which is probably why this is her favorite dagger. it is a wickedly sharp and curved implement which even has a deep, grooved serrated sawing edge and an indented blood groove. i don't know why, but it taunts me and it mocks me. it knows that it belongs to my Mistress and it seems to protest everytime i hastily resheath it and return it to a non-threatening position.

in some respects, it reminds me of a cobra, hissing and spitting. calmed only by my Mistress's touch. within Her grasp it is an elegant weapon which when unsheathed is capable of gutting or disemboweling a person with one purposeful thrust or dash up the middle of the abdomen. i am not sure as to why my Mistress constantly must have it near Her and at Her side. i have found it many times in the most unlikely places; the kitchen near the sink or on the kitchen table, the bathroom resting dangling dangerously on the side of the tub. i can only surmise ...

"what is it doing in here? is She using it to shave Her legs, or is She rehearsing a Psycho scene that is played over and over again in Her head? i care not to know. it's presence rattles me and gives me a tinge of fear, and tremendous worry. i again carry it carefully and resheath it, only to discover that She has taken it out again and now the blade is peeking out from Her mass of bunched up covers on top of Her bed. i start to resheath it again.

"I said, DON'T touch that." Her command slices through the fear that is running in circles around in my head. "Leave it for now." i watch as She picks it up and strokes the handle while engrossed in reading a book about Time and Quantum Physics. without missing a beat She snuggles down into the covers of Her bed with legs askew and seems to practice thrusting and jabbing with it, poking and stabbing at some imaginary entity with deference and grace. She pauses momentarily,

"Now, go get Me some dinner. I am hungry for those pork chops I saw defrosting in the refrigerator."
She continues reading, and i fly out of the room eager to please and move ahead with the tasks She has assigned to me.

within a matter of minutes the chops, veggies and mashed potatoes are prepared. i quickly brown some rolls finish the salads and pour water. since serving my Mistress, i have grown adept in the kitchen and what used to take me hours of preparation, now takes me only minutes. as a matter of fact, i feel quite at home in the kitchen, whereas before, it was somewhat foreign territory.

"pescado! are those pork chops done yet? i'm hungry." She texts me. i hurry as quickly as i can gathering everything She requires to compliment the meal. i run upstairs and almost out of breath present Her with tonight's offering; porkchops with brocolli, mashed potatoes, applesauce and a vinaegarette salad dressing. "Mmmmmms, smells wonderful," She pats my head and i take my place at Her feet with fork and knife in hand. W/we pass the meal in silence almost until the very end.

"So how was work today?" i choked a bit, unaccustomed to Her addressing me while W/we are eating.

"it was fine, i guess. nothing spectacular happened. well, there was a disagreement, or fight between a couple of people, but i was able to break it up, and things were pretty much normal after that."

"Mmmm hmmmmm. She raised Her penetrating eyes and gazed at me while chewing on Her last succulent piece of meat."
"Now, why would i believe such a thing of you?" Her directness startled me. "i know you too well pescado, you of all people couldn't seemingly fight your way out of a paper bag, muchless. stop a confrontation between two grown adults. I find this all too hard to believe." She twirled the last remaining salad remnant around Her fork, took one more bite and then narrowed Her eyes. a sly smirk snuck across Her lips.

i bowed my head in shame, for i knew She was right. i was absolutely as spineless as a fish and a person could ever be. i'm surprised that She didn't print "walkingmat", across my forehead and throw me out on the front porch for all to see. i was amazed that She still hung out with me.

as was customary, i said, "alright ok", and began the ritual of picking up the dishes, but She stopped me.
"That can wait, pescado. Hand me my dagger. I want to have some fun." She held out Her palm and i felt as if i was going to be sick. She knew very well how i felt about that "play thing", of Hers.

"well, Mistress, i do need to do the dishes. the kitchen is in a mess from the pork chops and all."

She furrowed Her brow and said,"WHAT did I SAY? I'M not going to REPEAT it AGAIN."

but, Mistress ... i ... really ... "DO IT NOW!" She said forcefully.

"DO IT NOW!"

i cowered down just a bit and then reluctantly handed the dagger to Her.

"There, now that's a nice pet." She deftly handled the blade like an expert, tossing it back and forth between Her palms.

"I just can't understand why you are so terrorized by this dagger?" She twirled it around Her fingertips like a skilled assassin never once taking Her eyes off of me.

i swallowed hard a couple of times which made the encounter all the more intense, as now She sensed my fear and the pooling of my blood.

"I mean come on, it's not as if I am going to CUT you." She playfully lunged towards me ... sticking the point of the blade dangerously close to my extremities and then my face. the sharpness of the blade whisked past my face and made a precise, tiny bloody slit across my cheek.

"Besides, You know how much i do love to poke and prod at things."

Her eyes widened with pleasure at the tiny stream of blood ebbing from my cheek.

"Mmmmmmmm ... I do believe that I made You bleed."

"ooooh, not again! i retorted. i rubbed my cheek and saw my fingertips stained with blood.

"ok, Mistress ... i stammered fearfully, "i think You have made Your point." i was desperately trying to put on a brave face for Her, but She knew all too well that i was scared enough to literally shit in my pants.

"Awwwwwwwwwe ... I'm not going to hurt you. Besides, what are you talking about? this little blade isn't going to damage you. at least .... not yet." Her pout was cute, but not convincing to me. She laughed and giggled in that pernicious way, that meant that there was no way out for me until i let Her have Her measure of sadistic fun.

i watched in terror as She crept up close to my face and stuck the curved part of the blade up my nostril, pulling and tugging at it hard, hoping that it would split.

"I mean, I haven't ... carved ... up ... that nose of yours yet". (evil grin)
"besides, I have to make you bleed just a little." i felt the sharpness of Her blade dig in a little deeper and then the tell tale redness began to seep out out of the sides of my nostrils.

"There, now isn't that a pretty color? it almost makes me wish ... but, you would like that, wouldn't you?" ah, my Mistress knew my pain fetish so well, it was frightening. She stopped mid sentence then gazed at me with the corners of those green eyes. meanwhile, i was trying to stop the micro bleeding from my nostril.

i stood very still while She dug the blade in and out of my nasal cavity. i was totally petrified at this moment, but there was something so amazing knowing that She could stick me and kill me at any moment. my head began to spin as i imagined the scene and the blood that would flow and ensue.

but, now it seemed like everything was ending. She had Her fun and was now talking about going back to work. She picked up the dagger with the blade facing Her. then in a monk and prayerful fashion, it appeared that She was going to bow to me in mock fashion, to signal that playtime was over. i guess, i was somewhat relieved.

i bent down to pick up the dishes. suddenly, i saw a glint of light flash quickly from Her eyes back to mine, and then a sudden throb of pain seized me across my left arm and struck quite hard! I suddenly realized what had just happened. OMG! She had thrown the dagger a short distance from me and now ... IT WAS STICKING OUT OF MY ARM! sure enough, She had thrown the blade with such precision, force and accuracy that it had sliced through my shirt and into my forearm. i bent down from the pain then yelled, ... (respectfully of course ... as much as possible for someone who had been STABBED!)WTF! YOU STABBED ME IN THE ARM WITH THAT DAGGER, MISTRESS!

my Mistress was just all aglow! She laughed deeply with innate, playful, wickedness and bent over my prone form to check Her handiwork. (Laughs!) "I sure did. Let Me see."

i wasn't sure about letting Her see. but from Her reaction, i gauged that She was disappointed with the results.
"Awwwwwwe, it's only a flesh wound .... i barely grazed the surface. i hardly even touched you." She was disappointed. me, i was glad to be alive. (whew!)

but ... then ... i felt a growing pool of wetness growing underneath my shirt from the puncture to my forearm.
it really ... was ... bleeding! and rather profusely at that. my Mistress was ecstatic!
"Really! let me see!" like a fascinated first year medical student, she grabbed my arm and proceeded to poke and probe it in CSI fashion. "Holy Fuck! I guess I REALLY did slice into you!" the sleeve of my shirt was now drenched in blood and it had made a nice bloody pattern up and down my forearm.

"W/we have got to take pictures." She beamed with pride. "Bring me the knife". i brought Her the dagger and watched as She snapped pic after pic from the phone on my camera. "This is going to be on Your blog, understand? i nodded my head. I want to see it there." She poked and squeezed the wound until i screamed from the pain and then She took a few more pics, then ordered me into the bathroom to tend the wound.

That is soooo fucking awesome! i heard Her say.
Hey, goodluck with that arm tomorrow. I hope it doesn't stiffen up and that you have had a tetanus shot.
She snickered and laughed and then booted me out of Her room, and i dejectedly went downstairs to finish the dishes.