I'm feeling quite schizophrenic.
On one hand, there's teh rational, logical side of my brain that says all this stuff is wrong...that surely there's something wrong with giving someone such pain, that enjoying giving the pain out is bad.
On the other hand, there's the Heart. That part of me that thrills to the touch of the cane in my hand, that gets excited to hear it swoop through the air, that can feel the need of that cane to be lashed hard across a pair of taut buttocks.
It's just not right, is it? That feeling of power, that need, pleasure in the suffering of another - of someone you love.
OK, it's not right, but it feels so good! The well placed blow, the reddening line written across her cheeks. My Signature of Ownership.
Even the tears. You know you made them. You have the power to control her emotions with your bare hand. She cries or cums at your command, at your touch.
They say power is addictive. Perhaps I'm fighting that addiction. Perhaps I should. Do I want to turn into a whip weilding ogre? Is that what she secretly craves? I know now that she craves to be taken regularly in hand and that she is now comfortable with asking to be hurt, but I fear going too far. I've seen the results of doing too much too soon, of having nothing to regulate you but bravado.
The result, quite frankly is a slave that doesn't respond well to training or discipline. Who has the time to reprimand his slave with hundreds of strokes of the cane for each infraction? I know I don't. Yes, there's other avenues to take in terms of discipline, but quite frankly, there's battles that ain't worth fighting. Maybe it's a good thing to be an imaginative Owner that can find infinite ways of punishing a slave that won't be broken, but it's also exhausting.
Basically, there's a difference between brattery and pathological defiance. If you don't know the difference, you're not ever going to wear my collar. Be a sub, be a painslut, be a toy on a rack in a BDSM club. Don't kid yourself that you can ever be a collared slave, happy to serve and be at your Owners' feet.
You see, that's where the dichotomy comes from. How can I know this? How can I be sure of what I'm saying? How do I know I'm being a good Master? I have nothing to measure myself against except what I read on other sites and in books.
Indeed, should I be any kind of Master? Isn't this just a case of machismo and chauvanism? Lording it over your girlfriend, beating her to keep her in line? How can it be right?
And how come she likes it so much??
Sunday, October 15
Saturday, October 14
No surprises, there!
Totally Dominant You scored 93% Dominance and 11% Submission |
You are totally Dominant! If you are not already in the lifestyle you should really look into getting into it. You could start by googling bdsm....you will get lots of good links to sites where you can learn all about it. You are also my perfect match....message me on yahoo! i am cbrock619 |
 |
My test tracked 2 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
|
| Link: The How Dominant are you? Test written by lilbrat619 on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test |
Isn't Order Tracking brilliant?
For example, I know my package from Extreme Restraints is sitting at East Midlands Airport in Nottingham, ready to be put on a van. Can't wait!
When everything's arrived - waiting on the rope, cuffs, Hitachi, crop, collar and gag - there'll be a mega photoshoot where I'll introduce you to all of our new toys. There may also be reviews to go with the pics.
As you may have read in the comments over the last few posts, brat had her second Reiki class yesterday and passed with flying colours! So chuffed!
The only problem was that due to what we can only assume is some kind of energy overload or short circuit or something, one of her Treatments yesterday made her ill. She came home early and spent the majority of the evening comatose of moaning with ful-like symptoms. I made her some hot lemon with honey and scotch and put her to bed early. After a restless night, she says she feels a bit better, but I'm letting her sleep in anyway. Got to be sure my slave's up to full strength ASAP, after all.
There's a friend's birthday celebration to go to later this afternoon, so I doubt we'll be posting anything of substance today - but you never know...
When everything's arrived - waiting on the rope, cuffs, Hitachi, crop, collar and gag - there'll be a mega photoshoot where I'll introduce you to all of our new toys. There may also be reviews to go with the pics.
As you may have read in the comments over the last few posts, brat had her second Reiki class yesterday and passed with flying colours! So chuffed!
The only problem was that due to what we can only assume is some kind of energy overload or short circuit or something, one of her Treatments yesterday made her ill. She came home early and spent the majority of the evening comatose of moaning with ful-like symptoms. I made her some hot lemon with honey and scotch and put her to bed early. After a restless night, she says she feels a bit better, but I'm letting her sleep in anyway. Got to be sure my slave's up to full strength ASAP, after all.
There's a friend's birthday celebration to go to later this afternoon, so I doubt we'll be posting anything of substance today - but you never know...
Friday, October 13
Another quick Meme
You scored as Novice Dominant. You have some experience in D/s and mostly the right attitude and philosophy. Remember D/s is a journey, not a destination and safe, sane, and Consentual is the constitution. Take your time, smell roses and collect the thorns. Please suggest questions that might better characterize your dominance and I'll improve the quiz. Please don't forget to rate it.
Are you a Dominant? created with QuizFarm.com |
I suppose I'd agree with that. Not a bad quiz, really.
Thursday, October 12
Half Nekkid Thursday #2: Freshly caned
Take one brat, add maid's outfit, cute knickers and a broken rule...
The burning question is...
What's written on the front of those knickers?
Wednesday, October 11
Gotta have stuff!
We've been shopping again, folks.
Careful readers will note that we appear to have spent a lot of money lately. Even more careful readers will have noted that neither of us work fulltime. So how do we suddenly have this seemingly endless purchasing power?
The explanation is this:
We view our current relationship as being far more of a commitment than a marriage. Slavery can never be legally binding, and rightly so, but the contract that we will be signing represents a total abandonment of the self into the hands of another human being. What freedoms brat will have from the moment her collar is fixed around her neck will be granted by Me.
No wedding vow can have the same impact as a consensual agreement to be enslaved.
Bearing this in mind, and bearing in mind that the average wedding in the UK costs around £10,000 ($18,500), spending something like £300 ($550) on a quality, permanent, handmade, custom fitted collar and various other high quality pieces of equipment is - in my mind - a sound investment.
It's also the most we're ever likely to spend on the subject.
Here's a list of everything we've bought in preparation for brat's collaring:
- Many pairs of frilly and/or girly knickers so that brat will feel more feminine and so she can stop stealing mine.
- The equestrian riding crop that strikeslustfear into the hearts of spanko's everywhere
- A rubber paddle
- A fucking huge leather paddle, furry on one side, evil on the other
- A pair of very opulent fur-lined, padlockable cuffs
- A trainer butt plug
- A tiny set of Thai Beads
- A Hitachi Magic Wand. Orgasm torture, for the use of
- A ballgag that might actually shut her up
- A gorgeous cane with a leather handle that I am in total love with
- A new maids' outfit (Yes yes, HNT photoshoot on the cards, maybe not this week though)
- Ten meters of lovely royal purple rope
- A new roll of bondage tape
- And of course, the custom made Turian collar
I'm sure there's more, but I forget what else is in our toy bag now.
Now, about My philosophy of slave Ownership:
It's time to utter the word that srikes groans of recognition into the hearts of sci-fi geek spankos everywhere: Gor.
For the blissfully unaware, Gor is the subject of a cycle of 25 or so novels by Sci-fi author John Norman. It sits in orbit directly opposite the Earth and is run and protected by long-lived spider-like aliens known as Priest Kings.
It is a planet where men are all-powerful, vastly over muscled and in the words of the book - Real Men. Every woman on Gor is a potential slave. Most are actual slaves. They are traded, auctioned, trained in the same sense as you would train an animal. Their purpose and learned desire is to please and serve men. Occasionally, the Priest Kings will send spaceships to Earth tacquirere beautiful women for slavery, as the women of Earth are regarded as particularly exotic, easily trainable slaves.
Slaves on Gor are a highly prized commodity, therefore they are taken especial care of. Their Masters take great interest in their appearance and training, ensuring that the slaves in theipossessionon are an asset to the Master and a point of honour to other men.
Over the course of the books, Norman weaves an intricate account of a philosophy that is proving more and more attractive in M/s circles.
I read some of the books a long time before SM became a regular part of our lives and always liked the ideas Norman put forward. When brat began asking to wear my collar and for me to become her Master, the Gorean way seemed a natural one to follow. The major benefit being that I'd already given a lot of thought to how I'd go about being a Master in the Gorean tradition, so in that sense, could pick up the reins and run with them immediately.
My brat is treated as a prizepossessionon. Her training consists of obedience, the stimulation of her intellect and a redirection of her masochistic nature from the self-destructive depression and tempers of her past to erotic pain & pleasure.
It's already going quite well, as this blog will testify to. She is becoming more obedient day by day, she's managing to kerb her temper and learning to be more patient. Just lately I've become somewhat aware of a little more neediness than I'd like her to have, so we'll work on her feelings of security soon, too.
The pain and pleasure training has yielded very palpable and desirable results. Our readers may well recall the last heavy spanking session I wrote about where she found it increasingly easy to cum on a dildo whilst being worked with hand and cane.
The training has worked a little better than either of uanticipateded to be honest. She's not been too well for the last two weeks or so, so I've been very lenient with her. She's only earned four demerits over the whole two weeks. I've let maybe as many go unpunished.
Unfortunately, though, it has become more and more evident that she's been sinking into a bit of a mood. The turning point came today before she left for work. We sat and chatted about how she was feeling and my worries that the lifestyle wasn't suiting her and the treat of punishments was making her ill.
It was decided, though, that maybe the opposite is true. She hasn't been sleeping well at night, she's bogged down with panibecauseue she feels she's overstretching herself at college and she's panicking about Christmas.
I hate how Christmas starts in September and I hate even more how brat invariably begins panic buying with four months to go. But that is perhaps a subject for another post.
We talked things through, tackled issues that we haven't spoken about for a few weeks and came to a few conclusions. We've agreed that she's not clearly communicating the level of discomfort, illness and pain she's feeling. In the past, she's had an excellent line in psychosomatic illness that has helped her get out of many many things that she didn't want to do. Consequently, I have learned to assume that every mention of pain or discomfort is to be taken as somewhat morextrememe or intense than is actually the case. This is something new that we'll be tackling over the next few weeks.
We also agreed that daily spankings will recommence. We tried it once before for a couple of weeks, but lethargy set in and it became untenableMostst of the problem there was that the spanking was just the beginning of a formal training session, which became harder and harder to regulate and in the end became just too psychologically wearing - as good girl and Griz are apparently finding out, by the way.
This time around, I'm planning on simply giving her a nice, yummy red ass before bed each night.
The most startling thing that came out of our chat is that I've let brat wear her chains waaay too loose. She asked for me to put her at my feet in chains. She asked to have some time off from being her and tomorrow she just wants to be under my complete control.
I think I just had a glimpse of heaven.
Careful readers will note that we appear to have spent a lot of money lately. Even more careful readers will have noted that neither of us work fulltime. So how do we suddenly have this seemingly endless purchasing power?
The explanation is this:
We view our current relationship as being far more of a commitment than a marriage. Slavery can never be legally binding, and rightly so, but the contract that we will be signing represents a total abandonment of the self into the hands of another human being. What freedoms brat will have from the moment her collar is fixed around her neck will be granted by Me.
No wedding vow can have the same impact as a consensual agreement to be enslaved.
Bearing this in mind, and bearing in mind that the average wedding in the UK costs around £10,000 ($18,500), spending something like £300 ($550) on a quality, permanent, handmade, custom fitted collar and various other high quality pieces of equipment is - in my mind - a sound investment.
It's also the most we're ever likely to spend on the subject.
Here's a list of everything we've bought in preparation for brat's collaring:
- Many pairs of frilly and/or girly knickers so that brat will feel more feminine and so she can stop stealing mine.
- The equestrian riding crop that strikes
- A rubber paddle
- A fucking huge leather paddle, furry on one side, evil on the other
- A pair of very opulent fur-lined, padlockable cuffs
- A trainer butt plug
- A tiny set of Thai Beads
- A Hitachi Magic Wand. Orgasm torture, for the use of
- A ballgag that might actually shut her up
- A gorgeous cane with a leather handle that I am in total love with
- A new maids' outfit (Yes yes, HNT photoshoot on the cards, maybe not this week though)
- Ten meters of lovely royal purple rope
- A new roll of bondage tape
- And of course, the custom made Turian collar
I'm sure there's more, but I forget what else is in our toy bag now.
Now, about My philosophy of slave Ownership:
It's time to utter the word that srikes groans of recognition into the hearts of sci-fi geek spankos everywhere: Gor.
For the blissfully unaware, Gor is the subject of a cycle of 25 or so novels by Sci-fi author John Norman. It sits in orbit directly opposite the Earth and is run and protected by long-lived spider-like aliens known as Priest Kings.
It is a planet where men are all-powerful, vastly over muscled and in the words of the book - Real Men. Every woman on Gor is a potential slave. Most are actual slaves. They are traded, auctioned, trained in the same sense as you would train an animal. Their purpose and learned desire is to please and serve men. Occasionally, the Priest Kings will send spaceships to Earth tacquirere beautiful women for slavery, as the women of Earth are regarded as particularly exotic, easily trainable slaves.
Slaves on Gor are a highly prized commodity, therefore they are taken especial care of. Their Masters take great interest in their appearance and training, ensuring that the slaves in theipossessionon are an asset to the Master and a point of honour to other men.
Over the course of the books, Norman weaves an intricate account of a philosophy that is proving more and more attractive in M/s circles.
I read some of the books a long time before SM became a regular part of our lives and always liked the ideas Norman put forward. When brat began asking to wear my collar and for me to become her Master, the Gorean way seemed a natural one to follow. The major benefit being that I'd already given a lot of thought to how I'd go about being a Master in the Gorean tradition, so in that sense, could pick up the reins and run with them immediately.
My brat is treated as a prizepossessionon. Her training consists of obedience, the stimulation of her intellect and a redirection of her masochistic nature from the self-destructive depression and tempers of her past to erotic pain & pleasure.
It's already going quite well, as this blog will testify to. She is becoming more obedient day by day, she's managing to kerb her temper and learning to be more patient. Just lately I've become somewhat aware of a little more neediness than I'd like her to have, so we'll work on her feelings of security soon, too.
The pain and pleasure training has yielded very palpable and desirable results. Our readers may well recall the last heavy spanking session I wrote about where she found it increasingly easy to cum on a dildo whilst being worked with hand and cane.
The training has worked a little better than either of uanticipateded to be honest. She's not been too well for the last two weeks or so, so I've been very lenient with her. She's only earned four demerits over the whole two weeks. I've let maybe as many go unpunished.
Unfortunately, though, it has become more and more evident that she's been sinking into a bit of a mood. The turning point came today before she left for work. We sat and chatted about how she was feeling and my worries that the lifestyle wasn't suiting her and the treat of punishments was making her ill.
It was decided, though, that maybe the opposite is true. She hasn't been sleeping well at night, she's bogged down with panibecauseue she feels she's overstretching herself at college and she's panicking about Christmas.
I hate how Christmas starts in September and I hate even more how brat invariably begins panic buying with four months to go. But that is perhaps a subject for another post.
We talked things through, tackled issues that we haven't spoken about for a few weeks and came to a few conclusions. We've agreed that she's not clearly communicating the level of discomfort, illness and pain she's feeling. In the past, she's had an excellent line in psychosomatic illness that has helped her get out of many many things that she didn't want to do. Consequently, I have learned to assume that every mention of pain or discomfort is to be taken as somewhat morextrememe or intense than is actually the case. This is something new that we'll be tackling over the next few weeks.
We also agreed that daily spankings will recommence. We tried it once before for a couple of weeks, but lethargy set in and it became untenableMostst of the problem there was that the spanking was just the beginning of a formal training session, which became harder and harder to regulate and in the end became just too psychologically wearing - as good girl and Griz are apparently finding out, by the way.
This time around, I'm planning on simply giving her a nice, yummy red ass before bed each night.
The most startling thing that came out of our chat is that I've let brat wear her chains waaay too loose. She asked for me to put her at my feet in chains. She asked to have some time off from being her and tomorrow she just wants to be under my complete control.
I think I just had a glimpse of heaven.
Monday, October 9
A little bit about us
Looking back, I see that I haven't really actually said much about my philosophies, motivations, alliegencies or whatever.
It's time to put that record straight a little.
The first exposure I remember having to the world of sadomasochism was at a Waxworks Museum on the Isle of Wight. They had a section devote to punishment and torture, exhibiting such thrills as the Iron Maiden, the Scolds' Bridle and a device that demanded my attention for not just the rest of our family holiday, but for years afterwards. It's known simply as the Iron Spider:
The scene depicted in the waxworks was of a torturer sinking this device into the chest of a young woman. It captivated my mind, the stark image of the woman, bare breasted, helpless at the feet of this man by virtue of him simply posessing an item that could cause her pain. The scene was burned into my memory irrevocably. But it wasn't the stuff of nightmares. I never had a single bad thought or dream because of what I'd seen. It wasn't out-and-out erotic either. I never recalled the image whilst masturbating, never aspired to find someone who was willing to have their bodies abused in such a way. It was, perhaps, simply a fondly recalled taster of a scenario or a display of emotion that appealled to me.
I should say, really, I was about twelve, I think - maybe a few years older. No more than fifteen.
Through my mostly lonely teenage years, I taught myself to meditate, practised a calm, centred manner, immersed myself in the arcane and spritual. I was fourteen years in the English Baptist church, leaving at the age of nineteen when I met my first "grown-up" girlfriend, and when it became obvious to me that the hypocrisies and failings of the church couldn't support my spiritual needs anymore. School was mostly uneventful, college was disasterous. I left with enough grade points to not quite get into University. Six months before my 20th birthday, I met a girl I'd be seeing for the next four years.
For the four years following my leaving school, I could be best described as a hedonist - I drank, I went to clubs, I had lots and lots of sex - all of it strictly vanilla (she was more experienced than me - although only six months older - and had apparently "done her experimenting"). The situation suited me for a while, but soon became a pit of misery as it became more and more obvious that we were using each other more as a safety zone against being single and sexless than anything else.
When I met my brat, I'd rediscovered myself to some extent, having had somewhat of an epiphany during my first ever holiday alone. For the first time I'd been "ME". Not a son, or a boyfiend, or a mate, or a work colleague, just raw, untreated me.
And people liked me. It was a revelation. My ego took a boost that never went away. I came back empowered, changed. Everyone noticed, especially my then-ex. I started dating, despite her efforts to fuck it up. I gathered a clique of female drinking buddies whose fickle friendships I encouraged as a simple device by which I could continue to go out to clubs and be around nice people.
The night I met brat was the second time in two weeks that I'd successfully met a girl at a club and spent the evening with her. I was on a roll. I took her back to mine and we spent the night talking - she spent the night talking, I listened to her life story. It was a harrowing thing to hear, but i had no idea what to think other than "I'm tired".
At ten in the morning, after fully eight hours talking non-stop, we had sex. I won't call it "making love". It was the only kind of sex a sixteen year old on speed and a 23 year old who hasn't slept could have. In other words, rather crap.
I saw her home and phoned her a few days later. We flirted and got on well. She'd been grounded for not letting her folks know where she was that Saturday and Sunday, so I arranged to visit her.
The sex was torrid and repetetive. We came alive and fucked each other rigid for two solid days.
The next few months weren't much different. I'd visit on weekends, we'd fuck and talk, fuck and talk, eat and fuck again. Her father "tested" me. His sense of humour runs to the obscenely sexual, cruel and embarrassing. He tried to pick me apart and find a weak spot that he could use to poke fun at in order to wear me down and - I assume - drive me off.
Unfortunately for him, personal insults have never bothered me and he found no chink in my armour. I found a gaping hole in his and played him at his own game. And won. He sulked for weeks.
Her mother told me family stories and tried to mother me. When I told her I already had a mother and she needn't bother - as nicely as possible - she also sulked.
Eventually the pressure of such unbearable parents began to tell on the relationship. I decided the time had come to move her in with me.
It wasn't easy. There was a lot of bitterness from her parents. I was stealing their baby away. I was the big, bad, independent, intelligent ogre who had shown her that there was something else to life apart from parents.
But she made that first important break, she flew the nest. There's more to the story, but that's for another post. This one's long enough now.
I want to talk about our choice of lifestyle, our paganism and the type of Master I want to be. Oh, and we need to take some pics for HNT. Keep reading.
It's time to put that record straight a little.
The first exposure I remember having to the world of sadomasochism was at a Waxworks Museum on the Isle of Wight. They had a section devote to punishment and torture, exhibiting such thrills as the Iron Maiden, the Scolds' Bridle and a device that demanded my attention for not just the rest of our family holiday, but for years afterwards. It's known simply as the Iron Spider:
The scene depicted in the waxworks was of a torturer sinking this device into the chest of a young woman. It captivated my mind, the stark image of the woman, bare breasted, helpless at the feet of this man by virtue of him simply posessing an item that could cause her pain. The scene was burned into my memory irrevocably. But it wasn't the stuff of nightmares. I never had a single bad thought or dream because of what I'd seen. It wasn't out-and-out erotic either. I never recalled the image whilst masturbating, never aspired to find someone who was willing to have their bodies abused in such a way. It was, perhaps, simply a fondly recalled taster of a scenario or a display of emotion that appealled to me.
I should say, really, I was about twelve, I think - maybe a few years older. No more than fifteen.
Through my mostly lonely teenage years, I taught myself to meditate, practised a calm, centred manner, immersed myself in the arcane and spritual. I was fourteen years in the English Baptist church, leaving at the age of nineteen when I met my first "grown-up" girlfriend, and when it became obvious to me that the hypocrisies and failings of the church couldn't support my spiritual needs anymore. School was mostly uneventful, college was disasterous. I left with enough grade points to not quite get into University. Six months before my 20th birthday, I met a girl I'd be seeing for the next four years.
For the four years following my leaving school, I could be best described as a hedonist - I drank, I went to clubs, I had lots and lots of sex - all of it strictly vanilla (she was more experienced than me - although only six months older - and had apparently "done her experimenting"). The situation suited me for a while, but soon became a pit of misery as it became more and more obvious that we were using each other more as a safety zone against being single and sexless than anything else.
When I met my brat, I'd rediscovered myself to some extent, having had somewhat of an epiphany during my first ever holiday alone. For the first time I'd been "ME". Not a son, or a boyfiend, or a mate, or a work colleague, just raw, untreated me.
And people liked me. It was a revelation. My ego took a boost that never went away. I came back empowered, changed. Everyone noticed, especially my then-ex. I started dating, despite her efforts to fuck it up. I gathered a clique of female drinking buddies whose fickle friendships I encouraged as a simple device by which I could continue to go out to clubs and be around nice people.
The night I met brat was the second time in two weeks that I'd successfully met a girl at a club and spent the evening with her. I was on a roll. I took her back to mine and we spent the night talking - she spent the night talking, I listened to her life story. It was a harrowing thing to hear, but i had no idea what to think other than "I'm tired".
At ten in the morning, after fully eight hours talking non-stop, we had sex. I won't call it "making love". It was the only kind of sex a sixteen year old on speed and a 23 year old who hasn't slept could have. In other words, rather crap.
I saw her home and phoned her a few days later. We flirted and got on well. She'd been grounded for not letting her folks know where she was that Saturday and Sunday, so I arranged to visit her.
The sex was torrid and repetetive. We came alive and fucked each other rigid for two solid days.
The next few months weren't much different. I'd visit on weekends, we'd fuck and talk, fuck and talk, eat and fuck again. Her father "tested" me. His sense of humour runs to the obscenely sexual, cruel and embarrassing. He tried to pick me apart and find a weak spot that he could use to poke fun at in order to wear me down and - I assume - drive me off.
Unfortunately for him, personal insults have never bothered me and he found no chink in my armour. I found a gaping hole in his and played him at his own game. And won. He sulked for weeks.
Her mother told me family stories and tried to mother me. When I told her I already had a mother and she needn't bother - as nicely as possible - she also sulked.
Eventually the pressure of such unbearable parents began to tell on the relationship. I decided the time had come to move her in with me.
It wasn't easy. There was a lot of bitterness from her parents. I was stealing their baby away. I was the big, bad, independent, intelligent ogre who had shown her that there was something else to life apart from parents.
But she made that first important break, she flew the nest. There's more to the story, but that's for another post. This one's long enough now.
I want to talk about our choice of lifestyle, our paganism and the type of Master I want to be. Oh, and we need to take some pics for HNT. Keep reading.
Sunday, October 8
If you're gonna buy a slave collar...
We're ordering it from Extreme Restraints - see the sidebar for a link - and it should be with us by a week tomorrow. The plan is to take a whole day, let brat dress up all pretty or stylish then give her as much pain & pleasure as I can, then while she's floating on whatever plateau of submission she reaches, put her on her knees and screw the collar on. Then it doesn't come off - apart from special circumstances, like Hospital or Professional concerns.
It's gonna be such a thrill, walking around with my collared slave on my arm (or lead)!
More Ebay goodness
Following on from the gorgeous corset, we've had our eyes on some other items on Ebay lately:
A while back I bought a ten-metre length of lovely soft bondage rope from the site. It's really impressive and just long enough to securely immobilise my brat.
Have a pic:
Anyway, we kept an idea on the sellers' Ebay shop and a few weeks ago, she started selling some gorgeously opulent looking purple rope. On Friday, my resolve caved in and we purchased another ten metres. The clincher was when brat informed me that she'd love to be tied up with it!
Have another pic:
The next thing on our list is this absolute golden find:
It's an absolutely genuine equestrian riding crop, in sparkly black, for less than $15 (£7.50)! Total bargain! I've got some practising to do, though, when it arrives later this week. Rest assured there will be a full report on just how sore brat's poor bum is afterwards.
If the weals are really impressive there may even be pictures. Now that would make an interesting Half-Nekkid Thursday post..
A while back I bought a ten-metre length of lovely soft bondage rope from the site. It's really impressive and just long enough to securely immobilise my brat.
Have a pic:
Anyway, we kept an idea on the sellers' Ebay shop and a few weeks ago, she started selling some gorgeously opulent looking purple rope. On Friday, my resolve caved in and we purchased another ten metres. The clincher was when brat informed me that she'd love to be tied up with it!
Have another pic:
The next thing on our list is this absolute golden find:
It's an absolutely genuine equestrian riding crop, in sparkly black, for less than $15 (£7.50)! Total bargain! I've got some practising to do, though, when it arrives later this week. Rest assured there will be a full report on just how sore brat's poor bum is afterwards.
If the weals are really impressive there may even be pictures. Now that would make an interesting Half-Nekkid Thursday post..
Saturday, October 7
Questions, questions
Two pretty similar Memes from different places. Firstly, from padme...
1) My ex is: Long gone
2) I am listening to: The family chatting
3) Maybe I should: Get ready to take the kids to my Parents' place for the afternoon.
4) I love: brat
5) My best friend: brat
6) I don't understand: How the government thinks things will get better, the more they interfere in them.
7) I lose: nothing and gain everything
8) People say: I'm kinky. They're just jealous.
9) The meaning of my screen name is: Master - Well, do I need to say? Fitznicely - is the pet name of my "little friend".
10) Love is: a warm butt.
11) Somewhere, someone is: Having a stonking orgasm. If it's you - well, stop fucking reading!
12) I will always: love youuuuuUUUuUUuUuUuuuuuuuuu
13) Forever seems: boring, quite honestly
14) I never want to: work for a living. I will, I just never WANT to.
15) My cell phone is: A Nokia 3200
16) When I wake in the morning: I check blogs and go back to sleep.
17) I get annoyed when: The kids get up.
18) Parties are: Something that happens to other people, or something brat and I have together when the kids are at school.
19) My dog is: Always in the fucking way.
20) Kisses are the worst when: You have to take the gag off to get them ;)
21) Today I did: Shopping.
22) Tonight I will: Be off to spend the day with my parents
23) Tomorrow I will be: Cooking, cleaning and getting the kids to bed early. School on Monday! Yay!
24) I really want: My Debit Card back.
And the next one is from a vanilla blog that I've been reading for years (look for my Vanilla reading list turning up in my blogroll soon)...
1. Are you wearing shoes? Um, trainers.
2. Whats the third letter in your name? I
4. What color is your backpack? Black and silver, or green, or just black, depending on what I have to put in it.
5. Are you sick? Depends on your definition of Sick. Lots of people would think I was, but my knee's feeling much better, thanks ;)
6. Do you go to school? Twice daily.
7. Is the bathroom door open? Yep
8. Are you on a laptop? And I wish!
9. Are you watching MTV? No, if I want to watch music, that would be my last choice!
10. Are you smiling? Concentratedly neutral.
11. Do you have on eyeliner? Nup.
12. Is it early? Nope - well, it's after midday, so...
13. Are you blonde? LOL
14. Do you have a myspace? Well, yeah, but only to subscribe to myspace "friends only" blogs.
15. Are you in high school? HAHAHA! Go on, give me those 15 years back!
16. Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend? No, I have a slave.
17. What is your favorite name? 947-087-871
19. What color is your bathing suit? Black.
20. Does your school start in August? Nope, worse luck.
21. Did you go on vacation last month? Should have.
22. Have you ever been on a cruise? Nope. Shit there's a lot of "no"'s on this one!
23. Do you have a sister? Yes, but I may as well not have. And I'm fine with that, by the way.
24. Are you upstairs? No I'm not.
25. Do you have a friend named Alex? Never have.
27. Does your name end with a Y? Fraid not. Christ. Let me say yes to something!
28. What was the last thing you said to a mate? Um...I forget. Isn't that terrible? Probably "Mate"
29. is your ear pierced? Yep, the left one.
30. Do you own a digital camera? We own two
31. Do you live in Florida? Well it feels like it, but that's cos the fire's on high.
32. Do you like Florida? If it didn't have Disney, hurricanes and regular shootings, I might.
33. Ever had sushi? Yep. It's nice. Needs soy, though.
34. Are you listening to rock at the moment? Another "no".
35. What color is your chair? Terracotta.
36. Where'd you get your trousers? Birmingham Markets.
37. Do you type with your feet? Do I look like a monkey, or a paraplegic?
38. Have you dyed your hair red? I planned to dye it green if I got into Uni first time. Didn't happen.
39. Are you tired? No, but I do need the loo
41. Are you an idiot? *sigh* no.
44. Are you "Fake" at times? No
45. Is Alcohol Bad for the Soul? *sigh* no.
46. Are you bored? Yes
47. What time is it? Half past one.
49. Chocolate or peanut butter? YES! YAY! WOO! A Positive response! WAHAY! WHEE! fuck me, G, where'd you find such a depressing questionnaire???
50. How many kids would you like? Less than I've got. Just temporarily.
51. Possible girl names : Oh no you don't.
52. Possible Boy names: As above.
52. What is your computer? The entertainment centre, learning zone, business tool.
53. CDs or Cassette? MP3
54. Ever been through or to Detroit? Oh god, it's back to the "NO"'s.
55. Seen all of the American Pies: Managed to avoid the straight to video one so far.
56. Been to the movie theatre the past month? Nope. *Sigh*
59. Been to a concert in the past months? Nope *sigh*
60. What color is your toothbrush? Blue.
61. Was this quiz really random? Random, yes. Depressing, yes.
62. Do you think abortion is good or bad? Depends on the situation.
63. Are you depressed right now? *WAHHHH*
64. do you like harry potter? WOW! ANOTHER POSITIVE ANSWER! YES, I FUCKING DO LIKE HARRY POTTER!
Stops to catch breath and regain inner peace.
Well, that's my day, then...
I'll get to put my collar on brat in less than two weeks. We may celebrate! wanna see it?
1) My ex is: Long gone
2) I am listening to: The family chatting
3) Maybe I should: Get ready to take the kids to my Parents' place for the afternoon.
4) I love: brat
5) My best friend: brat
6) I don't understand: How the government thinks things will get better, the more they interfere in them.
7) I lose: nothing and gain everything
8) People say: I'm kinky. They're just jealous.
9) The meaning of my screen name is: Master - Well, do I need to say? Fitznicely - is the pet name of my "little friend".
10) Love is: a warm butt.
11) Somewhere, someone is: Having a stonking orgasm. If it's you - well, stop fucking reading!
12) I will always: love youuuuuUUUuUUuUuUuuuuuuuuu
13) Forever seems: boring, quite honestly
14) I never want to: work for a living. I will, I just never WANT to.
15) My cell phone is: A Nokia 3200
16) When I wake in the morning: I check blogs and go back to sleep.
17) I get annoyed when: The kids get up.
18) Parties are: Something that happens to other people, or something brat and I have together when the kids are at school.
19) My dog is: Always in the fucking way.
20) Kisses are the worst when: You have to take the gag off to get them ;)
21) Today I did: Shopping.
22) Tonight I will: Be off to spend the day with my parents
23) Tomorrow I will be: Cooking, cleaning and getting the kids to bed early. School on Monday! Yay!
24) I really want: My Debit Card back.
And the next one is from a vanilla blog that I've been reading for years (look for my Vanilla reading list turning up in my blogroll soon)...
1. Are you wearing shoes? Um, trainers.
2. Whats the third letter in your name? I
4. What color is your backpack? Black and silver, or green, or just black, depending on what I have to put in it.
5. Are you sick? Depends on your definition of Sick. Lots of people would think I was, but my knee's feeling much better, thanks ;)
6. Do you go to school? Twice daily.
7. Is the bathroom door open? Yep
8. Are you on a laptop? And I wish!
9. Are you watching MTV? No, if I want to watch music, that would be my last choice!
10. Are you smiling? Concentratedly neutral.
11. Do you have on eyeliner? Nup.
12. Is it early? Nope - well, it's after midday, so...
13. Are you blonde? LOL
14. Do you have a myspace? Well, yeah, but only to subscribe to myspace "friends only" blogs.
15. Are you in high school? HAHAHA! Go on, give me those 15 years back!
16. Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend? No, I have a slave.
17. What is your favorite name? 947-087-871
19. What color is your bathing suit? Black.
20. Does your school start in August? Nope, worse luck.
21. Did you go on vacation last month? Should have.
22. Have you ever been on a cruise? Nope. Shit there's a lot of "no"'s on this one!
23. Do you have a sister? Yes, but I may as well not have. And I'm fine with that, by the way.
24. Are you upstairs? No I'm not.
25. Do you have a friend named Alex? Never have.
27. Does your name end with a Y? Fraid not. Christ. Let me say yes to something!
28. What was the last thing you said to a mate? Um...I forget. Isn't that terrible? Probably "Mate"
29. is your ear pierced? Yep, the left one.
30. Do you own a digital camera? We own two
31. Do you live in Florida? Well it feels like it, but that's cos the fire's on high.
32. Do you like Florida? If it didn't have Disney, hurricanes and regular shootings, I might.
33. Ever had sushi? Yep. It's nice. Needs soy, though.
34. Are you listening to rock at the moment? Another "no".
35. What color is your chair? Terracotta.
36. Where'd you get your trousers? Birmingham Markets.
37. Do you type with your feet? Do I look like a monkey, or a paraplegic?
38. Have you dyed your hair red? I planned to dye it green if I got into Uni first time. Didn't happen.
39. Are you tired? No, but I do need the loo
41. Are you an idiot? *sigh* no.
44. Are you "Fake" at times? No
45. Is Alcohol Bad for the Soul? *sigh* no.
46. Are you bored? Yes
47. What time is it? Half past one.
49. Chocolate or peanut butter? YES! YAY! WOO! A Positive response! WAHAY! WHEE! fuck me, G, where'd you find such a depressing questionnaire???
50. How many kids would you like? Less than I've got. Just temporarily.
51. Possible girl names : Oh no you don't.
52. Possible Boy names: As above.
52. What is your computer? The entertainment centre, learning zone, business tool.
53. CDs or Cassette? MP3
54. Ever been through or to Detroit? Oh god, it's back to the "NO"'s.
55. Seen all of the American Pies: Managed to avoid the straight to video one so far.
56. Been to the movie theatre the past month? Nope. *Sigh*
59. Been to a concert in the past months? Nope *sigh*
60. What color is your toothbrush? Blue.
61. Was this quiz really random? Random, yes. Depressing, yes.
62. Do you think abortion is good or bad? Depends on the situation.
63. Are you depressed right now? *WAHHHH*
64. do you like harry potter? WOW! ANOTHER POSITIVE ANSWER! YES, I FUCKING DO LIKE HARRY POTTER!
Stops to catch breath and regain inner peace.
Well, that's my day, then...
I'll get to put my collar on brat in less than two weeks. We may celebrate! wanna see it?
Friday, October 6
Afternoon, all
Reasonably busy day today.
I went on a bit of a shopping expedition this morning and popped into a sex shop we've been meaning to visit for ages.
Turns out, the interesting, well stocked bondage section I remembered from a few years ago has disappeared, which annoyed me, but I still managed to pick up a nice thuddy rubber paddle and a little trainer buttplug, so not all was wasted.
I hooked me some nice undies, too: A frankly ridiculous purple thong which is actually very comfortable and some silky shorts which I'll probably have to restrain brat to stop her stroking.
Today, brat's having her first of two days learning Reiki Healing. Fascinating stuff, all about manipulating auras and guiding Qi (Follow the links to Wikipedia entries if you don't know what the hell I'm talking about). She phoned me on her break and was raving about the energy she could feel. I'm chuffed to bits for her. I'm a spiritual kinda person and I've felt the physical energy force she's talking about before and it's a magical experience. It's a bit like the resistance you feel when you put two magnets together - and it's very cool.
I've been teasing brat mercilessly about this course, as there's a cliché about Reiki being little more than waving your hands about over someone, but to be honest, I'm really proud of her for doing it, and profoundly pleased that she's finally got to feel that Qi energy.
Last night, we were talking about oxymorons: those phrases that mean the opposite of what they say - "military intelligence" is the most famous, I guess. We decided, due to my spiritual tendencies, that I'm a Dominant Hippie.
Works for me!
Peace man, and bend over NOW!
I went on a bit of a shopping expedition this morning and popped into a sex shop we've been meaning to visit for ages.
Turns out, the interesting, well stocked bondage section I remembered from a few years ago has disappeared, which annoyed me, but I still managed to pick up a nice thuddy rubber paddle and a little trainer buttplug, so not all was wasted.
I hooked me some nice undies, too: A frankly ridiculous purple thong which is actually very comfortable and some silky shorts which I'll probably have to restrain brat to stop her stroking.
Today, brat's having her first of two days learning Reiki Healing. Fascinating stuff, all about manipulating auras and guiding Qi (Follow the links to Wikipedia entries if you don't know what the hell I'm talking about). She phoned me on her break and was raving about the energy she could feel. I'm chuffed to bits for her. I'm a spiritual kinda person and I've felt the physical energy force she's talking about before and it's a magical experience. It's a bit like the resistance you feel when you put two magnets together - and it's very cool.
I've been teasing brat mercilessly about this course, as there's a cliché about Reiki being little more than waving your hands about over someone, but to be honest, I'm really proud of her for doing it, and profoundly pleased that she's finally got to feel that Qi energy.
Last night, we were talking about oxymorons: those phrases that mean the opposite of what they say - "military intelligence" is the most famous, I guess. We decided, due to my spiritual tendencies, that I'm a Dominant Hippie.
Works for me!
Peace man, and bend over NOW!
Thursday, October 5
Seriously?
Six weeks and a thousand visitors already?
Faints clean away
Like the new template? I've always hated the standard Blogger themes, so went on the search for something a little more stylish.
This one just spoke to me!
Faints clean away
Like the new template? I've always hated the standard Blogger themes, so went on the search for something a little more stylish.
This one just spoke to me!
Half Nekkid Thursday #1: Corset is
They really are that size, too
It was sheer luck that brat managed to come across this gorgeous, knockout corset on Ebay last month. I thought this shot would make a fine first HNT post. What do you think?
* * * *
UPDATE :: Apparently the folks at ABH like it too, we're Pick Of The Day!
* * * *
Wanton gratitude
OK, it's not Tuesday, but here's some thanks an appreciation for the good folks - most of whom are populating the blogroll on the sidebar - of Spanking blog "community" that have made us feel welcome and appreciated in so short a time.
It's a joy to watch our hitcounter spin round each day, to read and reply to posts on your blogs and your kind words on what we've written here.
You may have noticed that brat doesn't have much of a voice here. This is because, although I've kept a vanilla blog for three years, she doesn't feel comfortable writing this way and would rather sit in the background and read.
Rest assured that she does read and appreciate everything you guys have left in our comments box and I'm sure that I'll be able to encourage her to share more with you all as time goes by.
For now, here's a short specific "Thankyou" to everyone who has left comments here in the last couple of weeks. It means a lot to us, it really does:
Kayley
Theresa
Padme
Sean & Mel
Good Girl
Tiggr
Lily
Abel
But we're greedy little bloggers here at Casa Fitz. We want more.
So, if there's anything you want to know, any questions, opinions, observations, or suggestions you feel like making - especially you lurkers - yes, you know who you are, you Google searchers who come here looking for juicy stories about caned bottoms and "She was going to be punished" and soforth - please feel as free as a bird to click on the "Add Comment" link and show your appreciation, contempt or sheer open jawed disbelief (too far, you say?) for what we're doing here. We love it, you love it and I'm sure they love it too.
It's a joy to watch our hitcounter spin round each day, to read and reply to posts on your blogs and your kind words on what we've written here.
You may have noticed that brat doesn't have much of a voice here. This is because, although I've kept a vanilla blog for three years, she doesn't feel comfortable writing this way and would rather sit in the background and read.
Rest assured that she does read and appreciate everything you guys have left in our comments box and I'm sure that I'll be able to encourage her to share more with you all as time goes by.
For now, here's a short specific "Thankyou" to everyone who has left comments here in the last couple of weeks. It means a lot to us, it really does:
Kayley
Theresa
Padme
Sean & Mel
Good Girl
Tiggr
Lily
Abel
But we're greedy little bloggers here at Casa Fitz. We want more.
So, if there's anything you want to know, any questions, opinions, observations, or suggestions you feel like making - especially you lurkers - yes, you know who you are, you Google searchers who come here looking for juicy stories about caned bottoms and "She was going to be punished" and soforth - please feel as free as a bird to click on the "Add Comment" link and show your appreciation, contempt or sheer open jawed disbelief (too far, you say?) for what we're doing here. We love it, you love it and I'm sure they love it too.
Tuesday, October 3
More rules
Here's the rest of brats' rules. Looking at them now, I think they might need a little refining, but here's how they are at the moment...
Slave will attend to her own grooming and appearance under Masters' direction.
In practical terms, I help her shower, keep her pussy and legs clean shaven, pick her clothes, buy her underwear and decide on her perfume.
Slave's personality is important to Master. If at any point slave represses her inner brat, or feels that she is being emotionally repressed, she is to inform Master immediately. Brattery and/or disrespectful behaviour will be tolerated within reason.
Gotta love that brat o' mine! Seriously, way back last month at te start of all ths we got it wrong and all the fun went out of it. I made amends to the rules to make it crystal clear that she wasn't to feel that way again and to give her a clear course of action if she did. I don't intend to repeat mistakes.
Slave agrees that she must strive to bring honour and respect to Master with her slavery and will not knowingly bring dishonour or shame to Master or herself.
This is a general warning not to run around shops shouting about getting spanked with wooden spoons.
It's also a reminder that even in these enlightened days, it might not be the cleverest idea in the world to admit to being ritually beaten and enslaved, even to someone you think you know.
Slave will only answer to Master. No other Dom may command or use slave in any way whatsoever and slave is free to defend herself from such service using any methods at her disposal.
This is basically for her protection when out and about.
During periods which are not designated “Play times” or training sessions, the slave may exercise free will, but will defer to the Masters' judgment, fulfill the Master's requirements and obey commands as required.
This is the one that I've had to bring her up for most regularly. Usually an infraction brings nothing more than a reiteration of my expectations, or a bit of a lecture. We tried the constant "Sir or Master" thing for a while, but to be quite honest, it got old reeeeal quick.
If slave has any reservations or issues she wishes to raise, she may respectfully bring them to Masters' attention
I'm not a tyrant...
I'm not!
Slave will accept Masters' final word on any judgements or decisions where he has not allowed her free will. Where slave is given options by Master, He will outline the consequences of each option.
Well, maybe just a little...
No, really - this is how this rule works: say brat has a choice between a cream cake for lunch or a salad. I'll let her know she can have the cream cake, but she'll be spanked for breaking her diet. It's up to her, then, to decide what she'd rather have.
Slave will submit to oral, anal or vaginal intercourse on demand.
Insert evil chuckle here.
Seriously, though, I don't go around raping her at will. We're in the odd, but delicious situation where brat's body is working against her. After a spanking, she might kick and whine or even run off and cry, but on inspection, we'll discover that her pussy is revved up and ready to go. She hates it when it does that. I love it!
__
My philosophy as regards rules is that they should be simple and not overly stringent. Vast lists of rules might be OK for sub/Dom sceneplay, but in a lifelong relationship, you don't want to be carrying around a little pamphlet and referring to it each time your slave burps out of tune. Well, I don't, anyway.
What I've tried to do with brat's rules is to stipulate things that will help her improve her life, help keep the black dog of depression at bay, safeguard ourselves from getting too damn serious and earnest about the whole thing and enable us to integrate slavery and complete control into our daiy lives without all the farting around with humiliation and heavy SM sessions that are the clichés of this kind of lifestyle.
So, why bother with a slave contract? Why not just have a set of rules and a DD relationship? Simple. She asked. She begged in fact. Every time we'd play a scene, she'd beg for me to take her as a slave and control her completely.
Who am I to refuse a request like that?
Slave will attend to her own grooming and appearance under Masters' direction.
In practical terms, I help her shower, keep her pussy and legs clean shaven, pick her clothes, buy her underwear and decide on her perfume.
Slave's personality is important to Master. If at any point slave represses her inner brat, or feels that she is being emotionally repressed, she is to inform Master immediately. Brattery and/or disrespectful behaviour will be tolerated within reason.
Gotta love that brat o' mine! Seriously, way back last month at te start of all ths we got it wrong and all the fun went out of it. I made amends to the rules to make it crystal clear that she wasn't to feel that way again and to give her a clear course of action if she did. I don't intend to repeat mistakes.
Slave agrees that she must strive to bring honour and respect to Master with her slavery and will not knowingly bring dishonour or shame to Master or herself.
This is a general warning not to run around shops shouting about getting spanked with wooden spoons.
It's also a reminder that even in these enlightened days, it might not be the cleverest idea in the world to admit to being ritually beaten and enslaved, even to someone you think you know.
Slave will only answer to Master. No other Dom may command or use slave in any way whatsoever and slave is free to defend herself from such service using any methods at her disposal.
This is basically for her protection when out and about.
During periods which are not designated “Play times” or training sessions, the slave may exercise free will, but will defer to the Masters' judgment, fulfill the Master's requirements and obey commands as required.
This is the one that I've had to bring her up for most regularly. Usually an infraction brings nothing more than a reiteration of my expectations, or a bit of a lecture. We tried the constant "Sir or Master" thing for a while, but to be quite honest, it got old reeeeal quick.
If slave has any reservations or issues she wishes to raise, she may respectfully bring them to Masters' attention
I'm not a tyrant...
I'm not!
Slave will accept Masters' final word on any judgements or decisions where he has not allowed her free will. Where slave is given options by Master, He will outline the consequences of each option.
Well, maybe just a little...
No, really - this is how this rule works: say brat has a choice between a cream cake for lunch or a salad. I'll let her know she can have the cream cake, but she'll be spanked for breaking her diet. It's up to her, then, to decide what she'd rather have.
Slave will submit to oral, anal or vaginal intercourse on demand.
Insert evil chuckle here.
Seriously, though, I don't go around raping her at will. We're in the odd, but delicious situation where brat's body is working against her. After a spanking, she might kick and whine or even run off and cry, but on inspection, we'll discover that her pussy is revved up and ready to go. She hates it when it does that. I love it!
__
My philosophy as regards rules is that they should be simple and not overly stringent. Vast lists of rules might be OK for sub/Dom sceneplay, but in a lifelong relationship, you don't want to be carrying around a little pamphlet and referring to it each time your slave burps out of tune. Well, I don't, anyway.
What I've tried to do with brat's rules is to stipulate things that will help her improve her life, help keep the black dog of depression at bay, safeguard ourselves from getting too damn serious and earnest about the whole thing and enable us to integrate slavery and complete control into our daiy lives without all the farting around with humiliation and heavy SM sessions that are the clichés of this kind of lifestyle.
So, why bother with a slave contract? Why not just have a set of rules and a DD relationship? Simple. She asked. She begged in fact. Every time we'd play a scene, she'd beg for me to take her as a slave and control her completely.
Who am I to refuse a request like that?
Monday, October 2
Slave Contract
I meant to do this a while back, but forgot all about it until mel from the S&M Blog mentioned their rules list earlier today.
Here are just a few of the rules that make up a part of the contract we will sign when the collar she is to wear permanently arrives from the States.
I'll explain the reasons as we go along.
Slave's Responsibilities
* slave is not allowed to cum without permission
This one kinda speaks for itself, I think.
* slave must strive to consume the recommended daily intake of fluid.
Which is, apparently, 2.5 liters or around five pints. Brat has a terrible time keeping up her fluid intake as I've mentioned before, so we agreed on this rule together.
* slave may not return to bed without permission
Given half a chance, brat would crawl back to bed and sleep her days away. Unfortunately, that leads to misery, back pain and a general bad time.
* slave may not spend more than 30 minutes on the phone to her mother each day unless under exceptional circumstances
See this post for the reasoning behind this one.
* slave must attend to Masters' needs, including but not limited to massage, preparing food, aromatherapy treatments, bathing, shaving, haircare and entertainment.
Again, this is pretty much a mutual thing. Elsewhere, I've stated that I'm ultimately responsible for her grooming and presentation. As I'm also responsible for mine, I figured she can help out when I need it.
* slave must not pester Master about His cleanliness
I'll decide when I take a shower, wench! OK, that's deliberately flippant. The point is, she does have a propensity to go on at me. It's not like I sit in my own filth for weeks, I keep clean enough, but there's a fine dividing line between ccleanliness and OCD that I'm trying to moderate with this rule.
* slave must not raise her voice to Master, even in unaware company.
Would any Master accept this?
* slave must not spend more than her agreed amount without consulting Master
This is a vague one, but necessarily so. There's a few times - mostly around Christmas - where brat gets a bit irresponsible with money. This provision for me to control spending can turn out to be essential.
* slave must strive to complete all college work on time
I want her to do the best she can and figured there was no harm in formalising my concern for her scholarly achievements.
* slave is to remain contactable at all times when away from Masters' side, except when she is working or attending classes
I'm not one of these posessive types that phones or texts constantly. It's enough that she can be contacted.
* slave may not allow bad moods or bad situations to exist. To this end, slave may request attitude straightening punishments at any time and is required to share any thoughts and feelings freely at any time.
Hopefully, this one will nip the black moods in the bud.
--
There are a few other rules, but these are the main ones. Brat wears her metaphorical chains loose for now as we're both still learning and she's not permanently collared, but that will change with time and experience - I for one don't expect to ever stop learning about the commitment I'm making to her and the service she is to show me.
The focus of what we're trying to achieve is to train her to be the best slave, and consequently the best person she can be. I want her to be a walking complement to my skill as a Master, an object of envy to other women - not just other subs/slaves.
Domestic Discipline, Spanking, Bondage and erotic torture are some of the tools.
My brat is my canvas.
Here are just a few of the rules that make up a part of the contract we will sign when the collar she is to wear permanently arrives from the States.
I'll explain the reasons as we go along.
Slave's Responsibilities
* slave is not allowed to cum without permission
This one kinda speaks for itself, I think.
* slave must strive to consume the recommended daily intake of fluid.
Which is, apparently, 2.5 liters or around five pints. Brat has a terrible time keeping up her fluid intake as I've mentioned before, so we agreed on this rule together.
* slave may not return to bed without permission
Given half a chance, brat would crawl back to bed and sleep her days away. Unfortunately, that leads to misery, back pain and a general bad time.
* slave may not spend more than 30 minutes on the phone to her mother each day unless under exceptional circumstances
See this post for the reasoning behind this one.
* slave must attend to Masters' needs, including but not limited to massage, preparing food, aromatherapy treatments, bathing, shaving, haircare and entertainment.
Again, this is pretty much a mutual thing. Elsewhere, I've stated that I'm ultimately responsible for her grooming and presentation. As I'm also responsible for mine, I figured she can help out when I need it.
* slave must not pester Master about His cleanliness
I'll decide when I take a shower, wench! OK, that's deliberately flippant. The point is, she does have a propensity to go on at me. It's not like I sit in my own filth for weeks, I keep clean enough, but there's a fine dividing line between ccleanliness and OCD that I'm trying to moderate with this rule.
* slave must not raise her voice to Master, even in unaware company.
Would any Master accept this?
* slave must not spend more than her agreed amount without consulting Master
This is a vague one, but necessarily so. There's a few times - mostly around Christmas - where brat gets a bit irresponsible with money. This provision for me to control spending can turn out to be essential.
* slave must strive to complete all college work on time
I want her to do the best she can and figured there was no harm in formalising my concern for her scholarly achievements.
* slave is to remain contactable at all times when away from Masters' side, except when she is working or attending classes
I'm not one of these posessive types that phones or texts constantly. It's enough that she can be contacted.
* slave may not allow bad moods or bad situations to exist. To this end, slave may request attitude straightening punishments at any time and is required to share any thoughts and feelings freely at any time.
Hopefully, this one will nip the black moods in the bud.
--
There are a few other rules, but these are the main ones. Brat wears her metaphorical chains loose for now as we're both still learning and she's not permanently collared, but that will change with time and experience - I for one don't expect to ever stop learning about the commitment I'm making to her and the service she is to show me.
The focus of what we're trying to achieve is to train her to be the best slave, and consequently the best person she can be. I want her to be a walking complement to my skill as a Master, an object of envy to other women - not just other subs/slaves.
Domestic Discipline, Spanking, Bondage and erotic torture are some of the tools.
My brat is my canvas.
Sunday, October 1
Control Freak Quiz - Master's results
| You Are 36% Control Freak |
 You have achieved the perfect balance of control and letting go. You tend to roll with whatever life brings, but you never get complacent. |
Well, at least I got more than brat!
Next day
Apologies for the slight delay getting around to Wednesdays' events. Sometimes life just gets in the damn way, y'know?
Before I start, here's a big HI to everyone who's come here via Tiggr's kind words this morning! We're both regular readers of her blog and Dante's. What a pair! The "Regular reads" blogroll on my sidebar is quite literally what it says - my Bloglines feed. If you're not on there, I apologise. Leave me a note in the comments and I'll add you to my daily reading with pleasure.
Anyway...On with the business at hand:
Wednesday was a better day, it has to be said. My brat certainly didn't wake up in anywhere near as much of a bad mood and the school run went well.
I love bondage - it's played a significant role in our love-life pre-slavery and has been a totally integral part of our new lifestyle. Knowing this, it's probably a little unbelievable that I've never had brat in chains for more than a few minutes before now - long enough for us to spend our sexual energy, unsurprisingly. Well, that day I decided to fulfil a desire I'd had for some time, put her in wrist and ankle cuffs and locked her black collar on her. This, besides my favourite long black socks and elbow length gloves was to be her attire for the day. After she'd completed her college homework, I arranged some sheets and cushions on the floor by where I was sitting and attached her collar and cuffs with a couple of lengths of chain, locking them just close enough to inhibit walking and stop her reaching her mouth. I then left her sitting on her "bed" with the bitgag in her mouth while I put lunch in the oven and settled myself.
For a while I sat with her at my feet in chains, reading websites and discussing various things - her continuing worry about her parents and how the restraints made her feel, then we came across a rather hot story which I read out to her.
When I turned away from the screen and caught her eye, the look of pure desire she fixed me with made my heart stop in its tracks. We'd been talking just a few moments before about various things we'd like to do and I'd broached the subject of a no-safeword bound spanking, intended to make her cry and to push her beyond her limits. Then I'd found a story about just such a scenario.
"Let's do it. Right now"
"make me cum first, please?"
"No fuckin' problem"
I took brat by her lead and led her, still in chains, up to our bedroom. Once I'd swapped my leather cuffs for handcuffs and secured her to the bed, I played with her clit mercilessly, bringing her to such a huge climax that I swear her thrashings could have pulled the rungs right out of our pine headboard.
Then I flipped her over, inserted our largest dildo into her eager pussy and pumped it until she was on the verge of another orgasm. And then the spanking began. I swiftly set up a rhythmic pace, spanking each cheek in turn, reasonably lightly, intending that the repetetive stinging pressure would take her into the pleasure zone - which it did, with a couple of rests while I pumped the dildo into her until she came on it. After a couple of rests, and with her starting to come out with the odd "Ouch", I increased the tempo, spanking hard and fast on each cheek repetetively - which I know brat finds incredibly uncomfortable.
Her breath started coming in ragged gasps and the "ouches" became more regular. Twice she used our "halfway house" safeword to give herself a break, during which I again pumped the dildo in and out of her gushing pussy, bringing her to a state of almost constant orgasm for the whole of her rest periods.
After maybe ten minutes of this rhythm, I realised to my disappointment that it would probably be beyond my strength to cause enough pain to make her cry with mere spanking, so I decided to switch to the cane.
My brat moaned with resignation when I told her, but as she was once again being fucked, it may have been something else.
I started lightly with the cane - not entirely sure why, I think it may have been some instinct that told me to probe her limits carefully, to not take her directly to whatever place in the serious spanko's mind where the tears flow like water.
However, it seems that her well punished - an in fact already bruised - bottom wasn't going to take much more and a few medium strength lashes had her weeping and begging for another rest. I reluctantly went back to hand spanking, but then had a revelation - a moment, it must be said, of clarity.
The reaction I'd seen in my brat when I caned her was exactly the reaction I wanted to see.
I stopped my ministrations with the dildo and informed her I would be going back to the cane and that we were so close to the climax of what we were trying to achieve...
I made her cum a couple more times, failing to leave the dildo inside her as by now she was so completely soaked that it wouldn't stay put, then I starte in with the cane once more.
Within a couple of strokes I had her telling me it was really bad, then the tears started - and kept on coming.
Fighting with my desire not to hurt her too much, I kept on landing stroke after stroke, listening to her sobs, marvelling as they actually changed from light but strong weeping to deep gasping sobs as the blows kept landing. Eventually I let her rest, kissing her and reassuring her like I had for the last few rest stops. Then I tentatively began pumping the dildo again, wondering what her reaction would be.
The reaction was that she came again immediately, still in tears. I was blown away, and vastly encouraged. By this point, the leaked lubricant from her deeply filled pussy was coating te insides of her thigns maybe halfway to her knees.
Time constraints and my instincts dictated that brat only recieved one more session with the cane, this time crying much more deeply and profoundly than the previous time, totally abandoned to the pain and other sensations she was doubtless feeling.
When I stopped, I gave her one last good fucking, then took her in my arms. Incredibly, she was far more interested in me removing the chafing handcuffs than anything else, but then, after some investigation of her very very sore arse and some seriously profound cuddling, we had to face daily realities again.
Three o'clock was rapidly approaching and the children would soon need collecting. Brat, however, was in no state to go anywhere. She was, in fact, finding it rather hard to stand and when she did manage to stand, reported that she felt not a little spacey. Was it Subspace? We don't know. I know it's the first time she's been in a state like that. Maybe I need to get her there a few more times before we can make a decent judgement.
After she'd come down from her high enough to walk downstairs, I left her, desperately reluctantly, to clear up, compose herself and test out her visciously punished ass on the relatively soft sofa. Lunch was rescued and bolted just before I ran out to collect the kids.
A few decicions were reached that evening. I "banned her" from phoning her family until Saturday - the speechmarks are because this is the story I told her mother. The reality is that brat just wanted some damn time off from the daily identical half-hour calls. They're only half an hour becaue that's what I limit her to on pain of punishment, otherwise it would be three solid hours of the same gossip as the night before...and the night before that...and the night before that.
Is it any wonder I banned her? Is it any wonder she wanted to be banned?
Also, we agreed that her poor bum would take some time off, and any demerits would be worked off by time in strict bondage, or corner time with nipple clamps attached.
Her bum took about three days to recover, during which time it sported some of the sexiest bruising I've ever seen and definitely the most bruising I've ever inflicted. We didn't take any photos, I'm afraid, spankfans, but there's plenty else we've discovered in the ensuing half-week which may be just as photogenic, such as her tolerance for having pegs attached to her pussy while being fucked over the sofa, or her intolerance of even half an hour of inescapable rope bondage.
I bet you want to know all about that, don't you, you pervs? Tsk. Well, you'll just have to wait...
Before I start, here's a big HI to everyone who's come here via Tiggr's kind words this morning! We're both regular readers of her blog and Dante's. What a pair! The "Regular reads" blogroll on my sidebar is quite literally what it says - my Bloglines feed. If you're not on there, I apologise. Leave me a note in the comments and I'll add you to my daily reading with pleasure.
Anyway...On with the business at hand:
Wednesday was a better day, it has to be said. My brat certainly didn't wake up in anywhere near as much of a bad mood and the school run went well.
I love bondage - it's played a significant role in our love-life pre-slavery and has been a totally integral part of our new lifestyle. Knowing this, it's probably a little unbelievable that I've never had brat in chains for more than a few minutes before now - long enough for us to spend our sexual energy, unsurprisingly. Well, that day I decided to fulfil a desire I'd had for some time, put her in wrist and ankle cuffs and locked her black collar on her. This, besides my favourite long black socks and elbow length gloves was to be her attire for the day. After she'd completed her college homework, I arranged some sheets and cushions on the floor by where I was sitting and attached her collar and cuffs with a couple of lengths of chain, locking them just close enough to inhibit walking and stop her reaching her mouth. I then left her sitting on her "bed" with the bitgag in her mouth while I put lunch in the oven and settled myself.
For a while I sat with her at my feet in chains, reading websites and discussing various things - her continuing worry about her parents and how the restraints made her feel, then we came across a rather hot story which I read out to her.
When I turned away from the screen and caught her eye, the look of pure desire she fixed me with made my heart stop in its tracks. We'd been talking just a few moments before about various things we'd like to do and I'd broached the subject of a no-safeword bound spanking, intended to make her cry and to push her beyond her limits. Then I'd found a story about just such a scenario.
"Let's do it. Right now"
"make me cum first, please?"
"No fuckin' problem"
I took brat by her lead and led her, still in chains, up to our bedroom. Once I'd swapped my leather cuffs for handcuffs and secured her to the bed, I played with her clit mercilessly, bringing her to such a huge climax that I swear her thrashings could have pulled the rungs right out of our pine headboard.
Then I flipped her over, inserted our largest dildo into her eager pussy and pumped it until she was on the verge of another orgasm. And then the spanking began. I swiftly set up a rhythmic pace, spanking each cheek in turn, reasonably lightly, intending that the repetetive stinging pressure would take her into the pleasure zone - which it did, with a couple of rests while I pumped the dildo into her until she came on it. After a couple of rests, and with her starting to come out with the odd "Ouch", I increased the tempo, spanking hard and fast on each cheek repetetively - which I know brat finds incredibly uncomfortable.
Her breath started coming in ragged gasps and the "ouches" became more regular. Twice she used our "halfway house" safeword to give herself a break, during which I again pumped the dildo in and out of her gushing pussy, bringing her to a state of almost constant orgasm for the whole of her rest periods.
After maybe ten minutes of this rhythm, I realised to my disappointment that it would probably be beyond my strength to cause enough pain to make her cry with mere spanking, so I decided to switch to the cane.
My brat moaned with resignation when I told her, but as she was once again being fucked, it may have been something else.
I started lightly with the cane - not entirely sure why, I think it may have been some instinct that told me to probe her limits carefully, to not take her directly to whatever place in the serious spanko's mind where the tears flow like water.
However, it seems that her well punished - an in fact already bruised - bottom wasn't going to take much more and a few medium strength lashes had her weeping and begging for another rest. I reluctantly went back to hand spanking, but then had a revelation - a moment, it must be said, of clarity.
The reaction I'd seen in my brat when I caned her was exactly the reaction I wanted to see.
I stopped my ministrations with the dildo and informed her I would be going back to the cane and that we were so close to the climax of what we were trying to achieve...
I made her cum a couple more times, failing to leave the dildo inside her as by now she was so completely soaked that it wouldn't stay put, then I starte in with the cane once more.
Within a couple of strokes I had her telling me it was really bad, then the tears started - and kept on coming.
Fighting with my desire not to hurt her too much, I kept on landing stroke after stroke, listening to her sobs, marvelling as they actually changed from light but strong weeping to deep gasping sobs as the blows kept landing. Eventually I let her rest, kissing her and reassuring her like I had for the last few rest stops. Then I tentatively began pumping the dildo again, wondering what her reaction would be.
The reaction was that she came again immediately, still in tears. I was blown away, and vastly encouraged. By this point, the leaked lubricant from her deeply filled pussy was coating te insides of her thigns maybe halfway to her knees.
Time constraints and my instincts dictated that brat only recieved one more session with the cane, this time crying much more deeply and profoundly than the previous time, totally abandoned to the pain and other sensations she was doubtless feeling.
When I stopped, I gave her one last good fucking, then took her in my arms. Incredibly, she was far more interested in me removing the chafing handcuffs than anything else, but then, after some investigation of her very very sore arse and some seriously profound cuddling, we had to face daily realities again.
Three o'clock was rapidly approaching and the children would soon need collecting. Brat, however, was in no state to go anywhere. She was, in fact, finding it rather hard to stand and when she did manage to stand, reported that she felt not a little spacey. Was it Subspace? We don't know. I know it's the first time she's been in a state like that. Maybe I need to get her there a few more times before we can make a decent judgement.
After she'd come down from her high enough to walk downstairs, I left her, desperately reluctantly, to clear up, compose herself and test out her visciously punished ass on the relatively soft sofa. Lunch was rescued and bolted just before I ran out to collect the kids.
A few decicions were reached that evening. I "banned her" from phoning her family until Saturday - the speechmarks are because this is the story I told her mother. The reality is that brat just wanted some damn time off from the daily identical half-hour calls. They're only half an hour becaue that's what I limit her to on pain of punishment, otherwise it would be three solid hours of the same gossip as the night before...and the night before that...and the night before that.
Is it any wonder I banned her? Is it any wonder she wanted to be banned?
Also, we agreed that her poor bum would take some time off, and any demerits would be worked off by time in strict bondage, or corner time with nipple clamps attached.
Her bum took about three days to recover, during which time it sported some of the sexiest bruising I've ever seen and definitely the most bruising I've ever inflicted. We didn't take any photos, I'm afraid, spankfans, but there's plenty else we've discovered in the ensuing half-week which may be just as photogenic, such as her tolerance for having pegs attached to her pussy while being fucked over the sofa, or her intolerance of even half an hour of inescapable rope bondage.
I bet you want to know all about that, don't you, you pervs? Tsk. Well, you'll just have to wait...
Thursday, September 28
Bad Girl spanking
The antics of my brat's family is something of a soap opera, with goings on which would curl anyone's hair.
They've always claimed to be a close family - which unfortunately equates to sibling squabbles, fallings out and sometimes full-on guerrilla warfare. For this and other much darker reasons, brat has suffered with depression for a long time. I'm honoured to say that my love for her over the last almost ten years (and my diligence in removing her from the direct influence of the damaging elemens of her family) has slowly but steadily helped to dispel much of her problems - the agreement to follow a DD M/s relationship being one of the most effective "treatments".
Now and again, however, something will prey heavy on her mind and she'll be in danger of reverting to the sullen, depressive soul that spent 14 hours in bed every day and refused to accept anything good in her life.
This week has been a bad week in that regard.
I should expalin first that neither of us work. I have been a stay-at-home dad to our two little girls for the last six years (with various stints working in bars over the years) due mostly to brats' depression (long-term and post-natal), and brat is currently studying to become a qualified Reflexologist (she's already qualified in a number of holistic therapies and eventually wants to set up her own business). Therefore, we have been blessed with four solid days together this week.
Tuesday morning, brat asked to return to bed for a couple of hours while I did the school run and visited the doctors with my bad knee. I agreed, but told her that I'd want her awake and attentive when I returned.
I slid ino bed beside her and gently woke her up - which she did grudgingly. While I tried my best to make the rest of the day enjoyable - a nice romantic cuddle followed by lunch out - brat did nothing more than complain, criticise and basically whinge her head off, no matter how nice and understanding I tried to be.
Finally, after I'd spent two solid hours trying to talk her out of her funk and get her to the point of leaving the house to go to lunch, she delivered the final straw, getting angry over some imagined confusion about how much time we had, where we were going and what she wanted for lunch when we got there.
There comes a time when even the most patient Master will reach the end of His tolerance and brat was simply showing no signs of slowing down on the mad spiralling journey of anger and confusion she was on, so it was in desperation and sadness that I decided I would have to deliver her first proper Bad Girl spanking.
I ordered her over the arm of the sofa and, holding her still with one hand, built up a steady, stinging rhythm with the other. It was a sign of her state of mind that from the very first - not amazingly hard - spank she was complaining. Throughout the spanking I lectured her on what I thought was wrong with her behaviour, how I wanted her to straighten out, how her contradictions and attitude were threatening to spoil what I'd planned would be a very nice, sweet day together.
Her protests eventually turned from pleading to anger as the pressure of the spanking increased and when I eventually gave my hand a rest, she broke position and ran our bedroom where she lay and cried. I gave her a few minutes, then followed her upstairs. She was still being defiant, but I got the impression that the spanking had done its' job as she was not so much bothered about the mechaincs of the day as aggrieved at me for the punishment. I gave her an ultimatum - I was going to go back downstairs and continue getting ready to go out. If she still wished to be my slave and accept my discipline, she would follow me down, apologise for her behaviour and we'd try to rescue what we could of the day. Otherwise, the M/s relationship would be through.
She took all of thirty seconds to make up her mind. I held her in my arms while she wept and apologised, then we finally went out and had a reasonably nice afternoon shopping together.
It wasn't much of a punishment to be honest and she frankly deserved much more, but it really did seem to do the job - at least temporarily. As you'll find out in my next post, the depression didn't stay away for long and Wednesday saw a crisis point and a far more extreme solution...
They've always claimed to be a close family - which unfortunately equates to sibling squabbles, fallings out and sometimes full-on guerrilla warfare. For this and other much darker reasons, brat has suffered with depression for a long time. I'm honoured to say that my love for her over the last almost ten years (and my diligence in removing her from the direct influence of the damaging elemens of her family) has slowly but steadily helped to dispel much of her problems - the agreement to follow a DD M/s relationship being one of the most effective "treatments".
Now and again, however, something will prey heavy on her mind and she'll be in danger of reverting to the sullen, depressive soul that spent 14 hours in bed every day and refused to accept anything good in her life.
This week has been a bad week in that regard.
I should expalin first that neither of us work. I have been a stay-at-home dad to our two little girls for the last six years (with various stints working in bars over the years) due mostly to brats' depression (long-term and post-natal), and brat is currently studying to become a qualified Reflexologist (she's already qualified in a number of holistic therapies and eventually wants to set up her own business). Therefore, we have been blessed with four solid days together this week.
Tuesday morning, brat asked to return to bed for a couple of hours while I did the school run and visited the doctors with my bad knee. I agreed, but told her that I'd want her awake and attentive when I returned.
I slid ino bed beside her and gently woke her up - which she did grudgingly. While I tried my best to make the rest of the day enjoyable - a nice romantic cuddle followed by lunch out - brat did nothing more than complain, criticise and basically whinge her head off, no matter how nice and understanding I tried to be.
Finally, after I'd spent two solid hours trying to talk her out of her funk and get her to the point of leaving the house to go to lunch, she delivered the final straw, getting angry over some imagined confusion about how much time we had, where we were going and what she wanted for lunch when we got there.
There comes a time when even the most patient Master will reach the end of His tolerance and brat was simply showing no signs of slowing down on the mad spiralling journey of anger and confusion she was on, so it was in desperation and sadness that I decided I would have to deliver her first proper Bad Girl spanking.
I ordered her over the arm of the sofa and, holding her still with one hand, built up a steady, stinging rhythm with the other. It was a sign of her state of mind that from the very first - not amazingly hard - spank she was complaining. Throughout the spanking I lectured her on what I thought was wrong with her behaviour, how I wanted her to straighten out, how her contradictions and attitude were threatening to spoil what I'd planned would be a very nice, sweet day together.
Her protests eventually turned from pleading to anger as the pressure of the spanking increased and when I eventually gave my hand a rest, she broke position and ran our bedroom where she lay and cried. I gave her a few minutes, then followed her upstairs. She was still being defiant, but I got the impression that the spanking had done its' job as she was not so much bothered about the mechaincs of the day as aggrieved at me for the punishment. I gave her an ultimatum - I was going to go back downstairs and continue getting ready to go out. If she still wished to be my slave and accept my discipline, she would follow me down, apologise for her behaviour and we'd try to rescue what we could of the day. Otherwise, the M/s relationship would be through.
She took all of thirty seconds to make up her mind. I held her in my arms while she wept and apologised, then we finally went out and had a reasonably nice afternoon shopping together.
It wasn't much of a punishment to be honest and she frankly deserved much more, but it really did seem to do the job - at least temporarily. As you'll find out in my next post, the depression didn't stay away for long and Wednesday saw a crisis point and a far more extreme solution...
Tuesday, September 26
But we've only been here a couple of weeks!
This can't be right.
It took about three months for me to get any decent results from Google with my vanilla blog.
I've just looked at our visitor stats and noticed a google search hit.
Apparently, if you look for "Master spank punishment clitty", This lil' ole blog is number one result!
The only thing is, I haven't talked about spanking brat's clitty yet - although it's something she particularly enjoys and I've set off many an aftershock orgasm with a swift slap to the clit.
..Well, I guess I have talked about it now, haven't I?
Welcome one and all, pull up a stool and pull down your pants, Master will be with you soon.
* Just one other thing - We've worked out tonight that the pain I thought was Gout actually seems to be a knee injury I picked up from a fall at the local Fitness Centre last time I went. Bollocks! I'm off to see the doc tomorrow to find out the specifics. More news then.
It took about three months for me to get any decent results from Google with my vanilla blog.
I've just looked at our visitor stats and noticed a google search hit.
Apparently, if you look for "Master spank punishment clitty", This lil' ole blog is number one result!
The only thing is, I haven't talked about spanking brat's clitty yet - although it's something she particularly enjoys and I've set off many an aftershock orgasm with a swift slap to the clit.
..Well, I guess I have talked about it now, haven't I?
Welcome one and all, pull up a stool and pull down your pants, Master will be with you soon.
* Just one other thing - We've worked out tonight that the pain I thought was Gout actually seems to be a knee injury I picked up from a fall at the local Fitness Centre last time I went. Bollocks! I'm off to see the doc tomorrow to find out the specifics. More news then.
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