"Ouch, if you poke me with one more pin I swear I am going to show you EXACTLY how it feels." I screamed as she shoved a pin into my ass, again for the millionth time today. Okay, it wasn't quite that many times but if she poked me one more time I was going to slap her.
"Princess, if you'd hold still the pins wouldn't poke you." She was calm, and totally ignoring my outburst.
I swear she was an evil sadist who intentionally poked me with a pin whenever she got the chance though. She had poked me at least half a dozen times in the butt with her pins in the last ten minutes and I was about to rip the stupid dress off me.
"I am thinking maybe I can add some padding into the chest of your dress to make it curvier since you refuse to wear a corset with it." She told me, examining my chest, I was embarrassed, and under any other circumstances I probably would have said yes.
"No. He likes my small breasts, no padding." It came out before I could stop myself. Why did I care what he thinks, oh god, I was blushing. Great, now she's going to know he and I had had a discussion about my chest.
"Uh, huh. Right then. No padding." She wouldn't look at me but she continued to hem and poke and prod at me for another hour before she finally said she was done and would have the dress back in time for the wedding.
Two and a half weeks. It would be the longest and shortest period of time in my life I think. It was going by far too fast, but not fast enough to just get it over with. I slipped into my bathrobe and was finally alone in my room again. My arms ached, and my back hurt from standing still for so long in the same position.
I really just wanted to curl into a ball and hide for the next three weeks, maybe, if I was lucky, I could sleep through our wedding. Or maybe he'd die before then. One could hope right?
Maybe, if I ran away from home, he could marry me, without me there and I could return when he got tired of waiting for me to come back and then I could go about my life as if nothing had ever changed? I really doubted that this would be an option; I had a feeling he'd come after me and drag me back by the hair kicking and screaming. I don't think he'd let me get away so easily.
I could feel my emotions swirling in my brain and I knew that I was about to shut down from the over stimulation of everything I had been through lately. It was just too much for me to go through. And, I was still alone, there was no one who could relate, no one here would understand why I didn't want to marry him, or ever get married.
I felt like screaming, I felt like crying, I felt like taking a pillow and beating him with it until I didn't have any energy left in me to hate him with.
The day was almost over, and yet, I knew I had to go have dinner, and be civil towards him.
I put my dress back on that I had been wearing that morning before I had to be fitted for my wedding gown. I ran a brush through my hair and washed my face in the basin in my dressing room. The modiste had also made me a wedding night-gown for that night, it was sheer and see-through and I had it hiding in the back of my closet. I wasn't sure I was willing to wear it for him. I know it was common, but I am not sure I could do that.
It was a gauzy material that was as pale as my skin and kind of molded to my curves, or what curves I had anyways. My nipples would stick against it, and you could see it through the gauzy material. I admit I had tried it on when she had delivered it on her last visit for me. It had ribbons over the shoulders and it had little buttons going down the front and lace on the hem. You could see my girl bits through it and it hung to just above my knees.
I had a feeling if I had hair down there like most girls, you'd be able to see the hair through it, but when I started exploring my body at a young age, I started removing all my hair and shaving it off with a razor. I didn't like the way it felt. It bothered me, and I had heard of a Chinese practice where the geisha girls would remove all their body hair from the neck down. I had secretly adopted this practice and no one knew about it, I had never told anyone.
I wonder how Markus would react once he found out. Maybe this is something I should ask him. I don't think I could handle growing in body hair after removing it every couple of days for over ten years now. It was a part of my bathing ritual. I didn't want to change it. Maybe he'd be okay with it.
But what if he wasn't okay with it? Now I was going to freak myself out. Dinner. Yes, let's focus on the fact that it's almost dinner time. Time to go downstairs, and NOT bring up the questions I had been thinking, and why do I care what he thinks anyways? Oh god, I was turning into one of those insipid, insecure women. All because of Markus turning my perfectly ordered and routine life upside down, I could kill him; really, I would push him out of one of the high windows from the tower. Or maybe off a cliff, a really big cliff, with rocks below or maybe an ocean to sweep him away forever. Yes, a cliff sounded just lovely.
"Princess, Markus is waiting for you in the dining hall and Julie wishes to know when you will be down so she can serve the food, and Princess, Markus is growling that you're taking too long, Julie was too scared to come tell you, so I am doing it." Betty, a girl who had been here almost as long as I had, who seemed to prefer girls over men and had chosen to stay here instead of ever marry, was referring to the shy little blonde that I liked to torture.
"So, he's harassing Julie?" I asked innocently, if he was, I could almost like him for that. I liked to see her blush too. And, I liked to see her squirm and turn red and stutter and I had such joy in making her embarrassed and shocked, it took very little effort to do it too.
"Yes Princess, he had her almost in tears because he actually bellowed at her about you taking so long and why she's such a ninny for not coming to get you and tell you what he said, I think Julie is more scared of what you'd say to her though. She refused to be the one to deliver his message."
I laughed, I couldn't help it. Betty smiled at me; she of all people knew how I delighted in pestering the poor girl. It was sort of funny... in a mean sort of way. Betty never acted as if it was weird though, she never offered me her thoughts unless I specifically asked her for them and my sadistic urges towards some people were a topic we'd never discussed. I just didn't want to know how much she knew about me.
"What was his message?" I asked her.
"If the Princess doesn't get down here in a reasonable manner, I am going to come up there and haul her down by her hair and paddle her naked bottom over the table. I believe were his exact words. Are you coming down now Princess, or should I relay a message for you?" Betty delivered the message straight face, but I noticed her lip twitched before she regained her composure.
"You're not laughing at me are you Betty?" I narrowed my eyes at her but I was guessing she was.
"Do you want an honest answer Princess?" She asked me and blinked a couple times more than necessary and I could see she was holding back a chuckle.
"Not really. So I will pretend you aren't." I told her, and acknowledged that I knew she was laughing at me. Bitch, good think I loved her like a sister or I might just have told her what she could have done with that smirk she was trying to conceal from me.
"Of course Princess." She told me, and then she turned and left, following her down to the dining hall for dinner.
As curious as I was, I wasn't willing to risk that he would actually follow through on his threat. I had a feeling he'd actually do it and I wasn't willing to go there with him, I didn't trust him, nor the situation or anything else to push my luck until I knew exactly where I stood with him.
I seated myself at the table, in the seat off to his left like I had done at lunch and Julie served both of us our meals. I ate in silence, ignoring him but smiling to myself when I saw her blush. I think maybe I would have her come visit me tonight.
This was a secret I never told anyone, but I would make Julie strip naked for me, and I would have her talk to me as she kneeled naked. I liked to see her suffer, and blush. Nudity bothered her like nothing else did and there was something very satisfying about making her kneel nude before me, with her knees spread as she'd stutter and blush and shiver.... And I would walk around her naked and make her look at me and acknowledge the parts of my body that made her blush the most.
I made her start shaving when she arrived here, she had expressed that while she never wanted to get married, she did want to learn how to please a man and maybe become a mistress to one. She told me she valued her freedom far more than anything else she could ever do.
Julie and I had a unique relationship, and no one else knew about it. We'd never interacted sexually, and I wasn't interested in her in that way. But, I liked to make her suffer, and I knew a few men in my father's courts who liked a mistress who would be willing to do things for them that no wife would ever consider. I felt she'd be a perfect match for them, so besides enjoying torturing her myself, I was getting her prepared for that... Marrying Markus may screw up everything in my life in ways he never understood.
One more thing Markus and I would have to talk about. I was really not looking forward to having him in on my private secrets. I was also not looking forward to how he would change my status in my own home. Already the guards were answering to him and the staff was referring to him as head of the household and asking me if I had permission from Markus to make changes to things. It was driving me crazy.
I finished eating my dinner, I barely tasted it, and I had far too much on my mind.
"Julie, clear my plate, and then I will be heading to bed, I expect you to attend to me this night in your normal fashion. You've been remiss lately due to all the changes around here." I told her and she flushed crimson, I smiled. She knew what I meant; she'd bring a riding crop with her....
"Yes Princess." She told me, her eyes down cast. And I turned to face Markus.
"Good night Markus, I trust you will sleep well and I will see you on tomorrow for breakfast."
"Are you sure you don't me to tuck you in Princess?" He asked me, his voice calm and his face a mask I couldn't read.
"I am sure, good night." I told him.
I walked up to my room, I was excited. I had missed my evenings with Julie because of Markus throwing our routine into disarray. I walked into my room and headed to my dressing room. I stripped naked and slipped into a silk robe and knotted the belt at my waist. I brushed my hair, and washed my face and teeth from dinner.
By the time I had exited the room, Julie was stripped naked and kneeling at my bed. A riding crop sat on the edge of the bed. Her knees were spread and I could see her sex was wet and sparkling. She was excited the little slut.
I ignored her and sat on the bed and picked up the riding crop examining the braiding on the handle. This would do.
"Do you know why I am going to hit you tonight?" I asked her...
"Because I wouldn't bring the message to you and Betty had to do it Princess?" she asked me, her voice soft and so quiet I barely heard her.
"Well, that's part of it, but because Betty told me you cried for Markus. You rarely cry for me. That upsets me. How dare you cry for him and not give me that privilege of seeing it."
"Princess, I couldn't help it, I respect you, but he makes me feel things I've never felt before, I feel so small and weak with him; please don't punish me for my reaction to him."
"You're a slut Julie. You respond sexually to him. Don't try apologizing for your natural reaction. I am not mad about that, what I am angry about is the fact that you avoided me instead of showing me your tears. I like your tears, I am angry that you didn't allow me to see them and you cried freely in front of him." I told her.
She lifted her head and looked at me. Her cheeks were flushed, she spread her legs wider, her palms up on her hands, she looked me directly me in the eyes, she knew I preferred her to be brave and stare at me than avoid looking at me.
"Princess, if you want me to cry, you are going to have to make me do it." She told me. Julie was the first person I ever met who really could take everything I liked to dish out and more. It wasn't sexual to me but I got something out of hurting her and breaking her and making her cry that I couldn't even begin to describe. Her surrender to her tears in front of me was a beautiful thing and I was almost envious at her ability to have such a release without fear or worry what I thought.
The answer she gave me was the answer I was looking for, and I saw her breasts rise as she took a sudden intake of breath as the crop fell on her open thigh leaving a nice red welt. She jerked and her eyes shut for a moment, but she opened them and looked me right in the eye as I hit her thigh again, and again.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
a good match
My Owner was originally older than I would have preferred when I posted my dating ad up at 19.
When he responded he was 32/33 and newly divorced..
I also wasn't interested in someone who'd been divorced. We met and married when I was 20. He was just the "right" person.
I think finding the right match often makes it so those guidelines you preferred just wouldn't be that important in the long run.
He had all the morals and other values I was looking for in a partner. we've currently been married for almost 4 years and our relationship gets better every day, I don't think either of us really understood how perfect of a match we were for each other.
He originally wasn't interested in someone who'd been as young as I was either, but I amused him, and I caught his attention, and when I tried to scare him off... and keep scaring him off... it kept making him more interested...
Then, once he caught me, I no longer try to scare him off exactly, but there's always that dance between us. predator and prey and it keeps us both on our toes. I met him on craigslist with a vanilla dating add.
my point of this, is even when I met him, before I knew I was kinky, or how to explain everything I was, I led him on a merry chase, and as much as I was scared of him, and tried to scare HIM off by making him think I was as crazy as I could (and the bastard said "thats all? I can handle it. LOL")
We have always had this weird, predator and prey dynamic. I run, he chases. he captures me, I give him what he wants and the game begins again.
we balance each other out. I make life exciting, he makes it thrilling and scary enough that I don't seek out destructive outlets to fulfill it in other area's of my life.
All of my needs, my wants, my fantasies, are fulfilled just by belonging to him.
My point? Find the right match and it makes life so much better. ;)
When he responded he was 32/33 and newly divorced..
I also wasn't interested in someone who'd been divorced. We met and married when I was 20. He was just the "right" person.
I think finding the right match often makes it so those guidelines you preferred just wouldn't be that important in the long run.
He had all the morals and other values I was looking for in a partner. we've currently been married for almost 4 years and our relationship gets better every day, I don't think either of us really understood how perfect of a match we were for each other.
He originally wasn't interested in someone who'd been as young as I was either, but I amused him, and I caught his attention, and when I tried to scare him off... and keep scaring him off... it kept making him more interested...
Then, once he caught me, I no longer try to scare him off exactly, but there's always that dance between us. predator and prey and it keeps us both on our toes. I met him on craigslist with a vanilla dating add.
my point of this, is even when I met him, before I knew I was kinky, or how to explain everything I was, I led him on a merry chase, and as much as I was scared of him, and tried to scare HIM off by making him think I was as crazy as I could (and the bastard said "thats all? I can handle it. LOL")
We have always had this weird, predator and prey dynamic. I run, he chases. he captures me, I give him what he wants and the game begins again.
we balance each other out. I make life exciting, he makes it thrilling and scary enough that I don't seek out destructive outlets to fulfill it in other area's of my life.
All of my needs, my wants, my fantasies, are fulfilled just by belonging to him.
My point? Find the right match and it makes life so much better. ;)
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
age matters
Here was a post I made, and I wanted to expand on it a little, with out going off topic of the thread I posted it on.
You know as a younger slave who's only been doing this for a couple years now instead of 20 years like some, I still have those fantasies in my head of how i'd like things to go.
And, sometimes I tell him with out prompting. Sometimes, I just keep my mouth shut because he might do the opposite just to torture me, or maybe, I might just get what I asked for and sometimes the reality of it isn't NEARLY as nice as the fantasy i had going on in my head.
If he asks, I always tell him, and he can usually tell when my little brain is tinkering away on something.
I think that every relationship is different. I think age also makes a difference.. it really does and I'd be stupid to say it doesn't.
I was a very different person at 18, or even 21 than I am now at 24.
One of the keys I think is remembering AGE does make a difference. So does life experience. -- While they don't always go hand in hand, it would be ignorant to think age doesn't make a difference.
While I'd be open to advice or thoughts from anyone of any age, when I am struggling, or need to talk to someone, I tend to go to a person who's "been" through that. they understand and their logic usually is more helpful to me than someone who's been doing it for a month.
Once someone has been in a solid relationship doing their thing for a few years, even if its not as long as me, their relationship advice and thoughts become more valid to me, because they've been through a lot in a stable dynamic. They've got enough experience that I think they could probably "get" whatever it was that I was trying to say and give me feedback and insight to my situation...
But, until you've been there... you most likely just wouldn't get it.
This is why someone at 18, who thinks being a slave is kinky sex probably isn't going to be treated as seriously as someone who's 18 and says "i've been figuring this out for a couple years and as soon as I was legal, I found the relationship I needed"
There's a big difference between coming onto a board and saying she knows what she's talking about and not having actually experienced it, and someone who's living it right now and being the same age as her.
Its not an ageism thing so much as an experience thing.
I intentionally picked an older man who had enough life experience to understand the things i'd been through in my life and the patience to handle the side effects of those experiences.
Someone who could understand when I said i'd traveled across country by myself at 14, could understand what that meant. (because for atheletics, as a teenager, he traveled all over the world by himself.)
That, I had been a single mother for a couple years, had tried to put myself through college, had my own apartment as a teenager, had taken care of myself since I was 13, and had also taken care of my younger 2 siblings until they were adopted out. (which was shortly after I met and married my MAster.)
There are just not very many people my age who could relate to me, or the life I had, or the experiences I had. Now that I am getting into my mid-twenties, I am finding more people who are somewhere at the same place as I am, but i've also been married and in the same relationship with the same person for almost 4 years now. I still am finding that I have to go "oldeR" to find the commonalities with parenting, relationships, and all sorts of other issues that most people just can't relate too that are my age.
I don't think I could put up with a younger man who hasn't figured out his shit and had his life together.
There are SOME things that just come with age too. Master's worked the same job for like 10 years, he has the life experience and age behind him that people take him seriously.
I don't have that because I am young, even though I have the experience thing going on for me. The older I get, the less age matters to people, but I still find at 24, that people will try to use my age against me at times, though its far less than it was when I was 18-22.
i've also mellowed out, matured, got politer and could explain myself better and more logically, with far less emotions in the way i'd communicate.
For the younger people out there who says age shouldn't matter.... why?
Why shouldn't it matter at all? there are some things that come with age, that experience can't make up for. life changes, experiences, stages of growth that only age brings us.
Experience makes up for a lot of that, but no matter how mature we were at 18, at 25... we are going to be different people, and I think it should be okay to acknowledge that instead of getting defensive that age matters.
Someone who's 40 has knowledge and experience that I probably won't, just like when i've been in my relationship for 5 years, someone who's a month into their relationship probably just won't get... but I think its okay. Every year we grow and get older and experience more.. there are stages of growth that I think age brings that experience can't.
Going through a lot of shit in your life ages you, it matures you, but there are still parts of our brain that will continue to grow and change us that experience CANT bring.
Okay, thats all I wanted to say.
You know as a younger slave who's only been doing this for a couple years now instead of 20 years like some, I still have those fantasies in my head of how i'd like things to go.
And, sometimes I tell him with out prompting. Sometimes, I just keep my mouth shut because he might do the opposite just to torture me, or maybe, I might just get what I asked for and sometimes the reality of it isn't NEARLY as nice as the fantasy i had going on in my head.
If he asks, I always tell him, and he can usually tell when my little brain is tinkering away on something.
I think that every relationship is different. I think age also makes a difference.. it really does and I'd be stupid to say it doesn't.
I was a very different person at 18, or even 21 than I am now at 24.
One of the keys I think is remembering AGE does make a difference. So does life experience. -- While they don't always go hand in hand, it would be ignorant to think age doesn't make a difference.
While I'd be open to advice or thoughts from anyone of any age, when I am struggling, or need to talk to someone, I tend to go to a person who's "been" through that. they understand and their logic usually is more helpful to me than someone who's been doing it for a month.
Once someone has been in a solid relationship doing their thing for a few years, even if its not as long as me, their relationship advice and thoughts become more valid to me, because they've been through a lot in a stable dynamic. They've got enough experience that I think they could probably "get" whatever it was that I was trying to say and give me feedback and insight to my situation...
But, until you've been there... you most likely just wouldn't get it.
This is why someone at 18, who thinks being a slave is kinky sex probably isn't going to be treated as seriously as someone who's 18 and says "i've been figuring this out for a couple years and as soon as I was legal, I found the relationship I needed"
There's a big difference between coming onto a board and saying she knows what she's talking about and not having actually experienced it, and someone who's living it right now and being the same age as her.
Its not an ageism thing so much as an experience thing.
I intentionally picked an older man who had enough life experience to understand the things i'd been through in my life and the patience to handle the side effects of those experiences.
Someone who could understand when I said i'd traveled across country by myself at 14, could understand what that meant. (because for atheletics, as a teenager, he traveled all over the world by himself.)
That, I had been a single mother for a couple years, had tried to put myself through college, had my own apartment as a teenager, had taken care of myself since I was 13, and had also taken care of my younger 2 siblings until they were adopted out. (which was shortly after I met and married my MAster.)
There are just not very many people my age who could relate to me, or the life I had, or the experiences I had. Now that I am getting into my mid-twenties, I am finding more people who are somewhere at the same place as I am, but i've also been married and in the same relationship with the same person for almost 4 years now. I still am finding that I have to go "oldeR" to find the commonalities with parenting, relationships, and all sorts of other issues that most people just can't relate too that are my age.
I don't think I could put up with a younger man who hasn't figured out his shit and had his life together.
There are SOME things that just come with age too. Master's worked the same job for like 10 years, he has the life experience and age behind him that people take him seriously.
I don't have that because I am young, even though I have the experience thing going on for me. The older I get, the less age matters to people, but I still find at 24, that people will try to use my age against me at times, though its far less than it was when I was 18-22.
i've also mellowed out, matured, got politer and could explain myself better and more logically, with far less emotions in the way i'd communicate.
For the younger people out there who says age shouldn't matter.... why?
Why shouldn't it matter at all? there are some things that come with age, that experience can't make up for. life changes, experiences, stages of growth that only age brings us.
Experience makes up for a lot of that, but no matter how mature we were at 18, at 25... we are going to be different people, and I think it should be okay to acknowledge that instead of getting defensive that age matters.
Someone who's 40 has knowledge and experience that I probably won't, just like when i've been in my relationship for 5 years, someone who's a month into their relationship probably just won't get... but I think its okay. Every year we grow and get older and experience more.. there are stages of growth that I think age brings that experience can't.
Going through a lot of shit in your life ages you, it matures you, but there are still parts of our brain that will continue to grow and change us that experience CANT bring.
Okay, thats all I wanted to say.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Predator and Prey
While I have always fit in more with the Owner/property people than I ever have the Dominant/submissive type communities, I still couldn't quite describe our dynamic, or really put it into words when I could see that I wasn't the "submissive" kind of girl.
Here's what I think it is. I am not submissive, but I do respond prey-like to men who are predisposed for the hunt, the stalking, and the conquering of a woman. What I respond to is the predator in them.
Many men and woman I know are dominant, and while I respect them, very few have that edge that makes me go all prey like, I see most people as my equal, and if push came to shove, I know I'd survive a battle with them, be it physical, or a battle of the wills. They are softer, kinder, and that's not a bad thing, but it's not what I need in my life, or what excites me, or what I would respond too. I would walk all over a normal person, I would be bossy, and attempt to run their life.
I realize that while I can like and even admire other people for who they are, without that hard edge, I don't feel like I can truly respect them in a more animalistic sense. It's the edge of being prey that I need. The thrill of being stalked, of being chased, of being trapped, helpless, totally at his mercy. And that he knows he conquered me, that he could devour me if he chooses. That I am the mouse, and he is the cat.
Domination isn't as simple to me as being able to lead, being dominant is a wonderful thing, but it doesn't stir my blood like the predator does.
I need to feel like less than him to submit. That I was the weaker one on the food chain, that he was the alpha, and I wouldn't win in a battle of the wills, the challenge of authority.
I think Predators see most people as prey, the few they don't, they either avoid or befriend.
I don't think a submissive person is the SAME as a person who wants to be prey, and I think maybe, for someone who has a predator vibe, it is simply finding someone who wants to be their prey, and I think a submissive person might respond to that vibe, but in the long run, it would destroy them emotionally. I don't think they have the same wiring as a person who identifies so strongly with the prey instincts.
I think it's a relationship that most people can't relate too, it's a balance between two possible people who may both identify as dominant, except one will bow to that of the uber predator. Sort of how a mountain lion can take down a wolf. Both are dominant, alpha predators, but one is an uber bad ass predator, and the other hunts in packs.
The relationship between a predator and its prey isn't always a nice one. It is a dynamic where the predator wants to play with its quarry, and the quarry would put up a good fight before it loses the good ol fight and is made to bend and break to the winner.
We are potentially grateful, and even thank the predator for their treatment of us. We may be plotting our revenge, or our next attempt to thwart them or challenge them, we probably even worship them, respect and admire them, but god if we don't HATE to lose. And when we fight back, we fight back with an animal instinct to get away. Fight or flight.
It isn't about being nice, it isn't about roses, and butterflies. It's the stalker and the stalked. The hunter and the hunted. The cat and its mouse.
There are some predators that are predators but prey to other predators. While I like to make him smile and happy. I prefer doing it on my terms and sometimes his terms and my terms get in this little mini-war.
It is a battle, where the loser will retest to see if they can become the winner, and to see if the predator has lost their edge. This is when the predator very calmly and most assuredly stomps our face into the ground and reminds us exactly of our place.
They don't mind our claws, they don't mind our teeth, in fact, and they enjoy tormenting us and our feeble attempts to either get away or fight for our freedom.
I always assumed my sex drive was tied up into dominance but really, it's not dominance that gets me off, its animal aggression, knowing he will hurt me, use me, take if he wants. It's the fact that when he has me pinned by one hand to the wall and I am squirming, cussing him out for the bastard he is, I am growing wetter by the second. I lost, he won, and that animal instinct in me sets me off, ready to throw myself at his feet and offer myself to him.
I love a good fight, I love arguing with him, I love the battle of wills, challenging his authority to make sure he's still the alpha in our household, and, I struggle with my love/hate relationship of losing. I wouldn't respect him if I won, but fuck if I hate when I lose too. (Laugh)
He keeps be balanced, without him to keep me in check, I would be a raging cunt from hell, a bitch who felt she owned the world. He's not easily offended; he's not easily hurt, he's not easily upset... But he loves the challenge, the thrill of the chase as much as I do, and I think this is partially why we are such a good match for each other. I'm the prey who keeps coming back for more, flaunting my prey-ness in his face, asking for him to stalk me, taunting and teasing him to see if he wants to eat me.
I wouldn't want to have sex with someone I could control or lord over, if I could easily manipulate them, if I could twist them around my little finger. I wouldn't want to trust them, fuck them, or respect them if I could get the upper hand. The prey in me also respects his ability to protect his property and what belongs to him. Like a lion with its kill, it shares if it wants to share, but otherwise, watch out.
To finally have met my match, to found someone who can take me out, who can control me, who can stalk me better than I can manage to hide or run away and take me down when I finally turn and fight back... There is nothing better than this for me.
This is what I spend my entire life searching for. I finally found a way to put it into semi-coherent words.
It isn't the fact that I have any submission to give. It is the fact that he can conquer me. That he can take what he want, that he can control me through brute force if necessary, and I respect the dynamic we have because of this unique dynamic.
I realize, that in reality this is a dynamic that wouldn't work for most people, due to the sheer amount of energy it takes him, but since that's his thing as well as mine, we balance it out pretty well and we never seem to get tired of it.
Without this particular dynamic, I think I would get bored. I think I would be missing that "thing" that I spent almost the last oh... 5-10 years trying to pin point about myself.
A part of the force probably plays a large part in reminding me that he's an active participant in our relationship together. That he is always watching me, and snarky words, behaviors and actions won't be over looked on his part... it makes it easier to obey, and be the well behaved little girl he wants, because I know if I get a stick up my ass, he's more than capable of removing it.
I also don't think I could just blindly follow, or willingly submit. I don't submit graciously, I don't submit easily, I don't even WANT to obey. But, I do respond to the predator vibe, and because of that, my submission to him, and obedience to him is because he can aggressively take me down and out if needed.
It's not this active, logical, thought out, graceful thing. It's primal, animalistic. Sheer, animal aggression and power in a powerful man form of 6 feet of muscle. Sharp teeth, and big strong hands to bend and break me if it needs to be done.
If he wants to ignore me, he can and does, I am like the mouse that he might ignore because he's not hungry, or feels like napping instead of playing, but if he decides to stalk me, to catch me, I better hope he doesn't think to look under the bed and find me hiding there.
Without that fear there, I wouldn't feel satisfied. Without the darker nature he has, I wouldn't respect him. Without that predator aggression, I would walk all over him and rule our home. He has me firmly on the end of his leash, I might have teeth and claws and nails, He doesn't care if he gets a few bruises of his own, or if I bite or scratch him. He just picks me up by the scruff of the neck and makes me squeak and submit. Even if I don't want too.
Okay, that's all I got for now, I may eventually need to write a little more on this topic.
Here's what I think it is. I am not submissive, but I do respond prey-like to men who are predisposed for the hunt, the stalking, and the conquering of a woman. What I respond to is the predator in them.
Many men and woman I know are dominant, and while I respect them, very few have that edge that makes me go all prey like, I see most people as my equal, and if push came to shove, I know I'd survive a battle with them, be it physical, or a battle of the wills. They are softer, kinder, and that's not a bad thing, but it's not what I need in my life, or what excites me, or what I would respond too. I would walk all over a normal person, I would be bossy, and attempt to run their life.
I realize that while I can like and even admire other people for who they are, without that hard edge, I don't feel like I can truly respect them in a more animalistic sense. It's the edge of being prey that I need. The thrill of being stalked, of being chased, of being trapped, helpless, totally at his mercy. And that he knows he conquered me, that he could devour me if he chooses. That I am the mouse, and he is the cat.
Domination isn't as simple to me as being able to lead, being dominant is a wonderful thing, but it doesn't stir my blood like the predator does.
I need to feel like less than him to submit. That I was the weaker one on the food chain, that he was the alpha, and I wouldn't win in a battle of the wills, the challenge of authority.
I think Predators see most people as prey, the few they don't, they either avoid or befriend.
I don't think a submissive person is the SAME as a person who wants to be prey, and I think maybe, for someone who has a predator vibe, it is simply finding someone who wants to be their prey, and I think a submissive person might respond to that vibe, but in the long run, it would destroy them emotionally. I don't think they have the same wiring as a person who identifies so strongly with the prey instincts.
I think it's a relationship that most people can't relate too, it's a balance between two possible people who may both identify as dominant, except one will bow to that of the uber predator. Sort of how a mountain lion can take down a wolf. Both are dominant, alpha predators, but one is an uber bad ass predator, and the other hunts in packs.
The relationship between a predator and its prey isn't always a nice one. It is a dynamic where the predator wants to play with its quarry, and the quarry would put up a good fight before it loses the good ol fight and is made to bend and break to the winner.
We are potentially grateful, and even thank the predator for their treatment of us. We may be plotting our revenge, or our next attempt to thwart them or challenge them, we probably even worship them, respect and admire them, but god if we don't HATE to lose. And when we fight back, we fight back with an animal instinct to get away. Fight or flight.
It isn't about being nice, it isn't about roses, and butterflies. It's the stalker and the stalked. The hunter and the hunted. The cat and its mouse.
There are some predators that are predators but prey to other predators. While I like to make him smile and happy. I prefer doing it on my terms and sometimes his terms and my terms get in this little mini-war.
It is a battle, where the loser will retest to see if they can become the winner, and to see if the predator has lost their edge. This is when the predator very calmly and most assuredly stomps our face into the ground and reminds us exactly of our place.
They don't mind our claws, they don't mind our teeth, in fact, and they enjoy tormenting us and our feeble attempts to either get away or fight for our freedom.
I always assumed my sex drive was tied up into dominance but really, it's not dominance that gets me off, its animal aggression, knowing he will hurt me, use me, take if he wants. It's the fact that when he has me pinned by one hand to the wall and I am squirming, cussing him out for the bastard he is, I am growing wetter by the second. I lost, he won, and that animal instinct in me sets me off, ready to throw myself at his feet and offer myself to him.
I love a good fight, I love arguing with him, I love the battle of wills, challenging his authority to make sure he's still the alpha in our household, and, I struggle with my love/hate relationship of losing. I wouldn't respect him if I won, but fuck if I hate when I lose too. (Laugh)
He keeps be balanced, without him to keep me in check, I would be a raging cunt from hell, a bitch who felt she owned the world. He's not easily offended; he's not easily hurt, he's not easily upset... But he loves the challenge, the thrill of the chase as much as I do, and I think this is partially why we are such a good match for each other. I'm the prey who keeps coming back for more, flaunting my prey-ness in his face, asking for him to stalk me, taunting and teasing him to see if he wants to eat me.
I wouldn't want to have sex with someone I could control or lord over, if I could easily manipulate them, if I could twist them around my little finger. I wouldn't want to trust them, fuck them, or respect them if I could get the upper hand. The prey in me also respects his ability to protect his property and what belongs to him. Like a lion with its kill, it shares if it wants to share, but otherwise, watch out.
To finally have met my match, to found someone who can take me out, who can control me, who can stalk me better than I can manage to hide or run away and take me down when I finally turn and fight back... There is nothing better than this for me.
This is what I spend my entire life searching for. I finally found a way to put it into semi-coherent words.
It isn't the fact that I have any submission to give. It is the fact that he can conquer me. That he can take what he want, that he can control me through brute force if necessary, and I respect the dynamic we have because of this unique dynamic.
I realize, that in reality this is a dynamic that wouldn't work for most people, due to the sheer amount of energy it takes him, but since that's his thing as well as mine, we balance it out pretty well and we never seem to get tired of it.
Without this particular dynamic, I think I would get bored. I think I would be missing that "thing" that I spent almost the last oh... 5-10 years trying to pin point about myself.
A part of the force probably plays a large part in reminding me that he's an active participant in our relationship together. That he is always watching me, and snarky words, behaviors and actions won't be over looked on his part... it makes it easier to obey, and be the well behaved little girl he wants, because I know if I get a stick up my ass, he's more than capable of removing it.
I also don't think I could just blindly follow, or willingly submit. I don't submit graciously, I don't submit easily, I don't even WANT to obey. But, I do respond to the predator vibe, and because of that, my submission to him, and obedience to him is because he can aggressively take me down and out if needed.
It's not this active, logical, thought out, graceful thing. It's primal, animalistic. Sheer, animal aggression and power in a powerful man form of 6 feet of muscle. Sharp teeth, and big strong hands to bend and break me if it needs to be done.
If he wants to ignore me, he can and does, I am like the mouse that he might ignore because he's not hungry, or feels like napping instead of playing, but if he decides to stalk me, to catch me, I better hope he doesn't think to look under the bed and find me hiding there.
Without that fear there, I wouldn't feel satisfied. Without the darker nature he has, I wouldn't respect him. Without that predator aggression, I would walk all over him and rule our home. He has me firmly on the end of his leash, I might have teeth and claws and nails, He doesn't care if he gets a few bruises of his own, or if I bite or scratch him. He just picks me up by the scruff of the neck and makes me squeak and submit. Even if I don't want too.
Okay, that's all I got for now, I may eventually need to write a little more on this topic.
in the beginning...
I knew I was different from a really young age, I was spanking my dolls and making them spank me, I made my barbies pee on each other. Stuff that if I knew my family caught me doing would weird them out. so I kept it to myself and just made up elaborate stories in my mind regarding that kind of stuff.
I started masturbating at a young age, and almost ALL of my fantasies had to do with force, being pinned down, or someone else pinning me down while a male hurt me and used me. Also, something I never shared with anyone else.
I just had a feeling that if I explained this to most of the people in my life they'd think something was seriously wrong with me.
I was always seeking SOMETHING, but I finally found "it" when I met my Master when I was 20. Until then I just thought I kinda liked kinky sex and knew that something was really really missing with most of the men I had met.
It was the first time my Master ever scared and hurt me. I realized that is what i had been missing and he had built an environment around me where he could do those things to me and it was an okay situation and every fantasy I ever had about being the property of a man, of being owned, of being forced to surrender, of being forced into compliance... could be a reality instead of a fantasy.
I've been with him ever since. ;)
I started masturbating at a young age, and almost ALL of my fantasies had to do with force, being pinned down, or someone else pinning me down while a male hurt me and used me. Also, something I never shared with anyone else.
I just had a feeling that if I explained this to most of the people in my life they'd think something was seriously wrong with me.
I was always seeking SOMETHING, but I finally found "it" when I met my Master when I was 20. Until then I just thought I kinda liked kinky sex and knew that something was really really missing with most of the men I had met.
It was the first time my Master ever scared and hurt me. I realized that is what i had been missing and he had built an environment around me where he could do those things to me and it was an okay situation and every fantasy I ever had about being the property of a man, of being owned, of being forced to surrender, of being forced into compliance... could be a reality instead of a fantasy.
I've been with him ever since. ;)
princess chapter 10
"So, lunch right?" I said, and cleared my throat. I wouldn't look him in the eyes, but I stood there, feeling him back off from me and put me at arm's length, he untangled his hand from my hair and let me go.
"Yes, will you walk downstairs with me nicely or is that going to be a fight too?"
"I can walk, I am not incapacitated you know." I sounded snippy and it apparently amused him and he chuckled at me.
We walked downstairs to one of the smaller dining halls that we used for everyday use and ate lunch in relative silence. Neither of us mentioned the kiss while we were being served our lunch, but a few of the girls came and told me they were glad I was out and about again and that they had missed seeing me. I felt guilty that I had locked myself away for so long. I really hadn't thought about anyone but myself and it made me feel really selfish...
I picked at my foot, eating little nibbles off my plate. I had actually eaten a fairly large breakfast, and just wasn't very hungry... I thought about the kiss he made me give him, even with me kissing him, I realized he had ordered me to do it, so even in my initiating it, it was because he had TOLD me to do it. The idea that I was that easily manipulated by him irked me.
I pushed the food around my plate for a few moments and the silence was killing me, I hated when my brain started going into over drive and thinking too much. I hated it. I finally dropped my fork and looked up and glared at Markus. Everything was his fault. My life being turned upside down was his fault. I would blame him for everything. He started it, he came here, he got my home, he ruined my life, and now after he had taken away EVERYTHING that mattered to me, he wanted me to have feelings for him. God how stupid could he be. I would hate him forever. And ever and ever and ever and forever is a long time!
He sat at the end of the long table that could seat up to twenty-four people. The room that contained the table was long and skinny; it was all stone with hardwood floors with family paintings and wall hangings in it. There were large windows with colored glass in them, and when the sun was high, it would shine through making the room look like a rainbow was hitting it.
"I'd ask you to go on a walk with me now that were almost done with lunch, but I am not sure I want to go swimming again." His voice interrupted my thoughts as I had started to space out in my own little world.
"You'd deserve it." I told him.
"Princess, have you ever considered that you're really the one who wants that kind of treatment? Being hurt, being punished, and being controlled?"
"Huh, what in the world are you talking about? Are you totally insane?" I stared at him in shock.
"I think you do things to get attention, I think you want me to hurt you, and I think you like being controlled, you protest to loudly for me to think you are being honest Princess. Your words and your actions contradict each other."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." I felt the horror mounting, my brain was having trouble understanding this situation and it was quickly going in a direction I didn't like. I realized that where he was sitting at the head of the table meant that he was closer to the exit than I was, and I would most likely have to go through him to escape. I started feeling claustrophobic and panicky. Again, he had me in a situation where I had to get through him to get out.
"Princess, you're lying to yourself again, you know how I can tell when you know you're lying? You won't look me in the eyes; you avert your gaze and look anywhere else except my face. You are easy to read Princess." He chuckled and leaned back in his chair, his plate empty and now forgotten.
"No, I look away because the only thing I can think about is removing your eyes from their socket and I do it so I don't tempt myself into actually doing it." I sneered at him. I jumped out of my chair with my fork in my head and stabbed it in his direction as I indicated his eyes.
I had to admit, that when his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared at me, it made me excited, I felt like prey, like he was going to chase me around the room. And, I could sort of MAYBE admit to myself that it was kind of hot in an exhilarating way I couldn't quite describe. That didn't mean I liked him though, I still hated his guts and wanted to stab his eyes out and pull his toenails off and yank on his hair and scratch him and not have him pin me down and kiss me and press his body against mine.
Whoa, my brain was totally going to a place I didn't say it could go. Do. Not. Think. About. Him. Kissing me. That is totally asking for trouble! Bad brain, bad Ashlynn, I was lecturing myself inside my own head, oh yeah, I was going loony on myself.... Do not have those kinds of thoughts, or he will do his little mind reading thing and manipulate you. I swear he could read my mind. Maybe he couldn't but half the time he knew what I was going to do or say or think before I did it.
I took a lot of pleasure in the few times that I had managed to shock him or catch him off guard.
"Princess, put the fork down, I would ‘hate' to have to take it away from you." He arched a single brow, looking at me, taunting me, mocking me. I could see the expression on his face. I was learning to recognize that look. He was challenging me and hoping I'd rise to the occasion. The bloody bastard, two could play this game.
"Yes Sir, is there anything else I can do to please you while I am at it?" I told him and gently laid the fork on my plate, I looked up at him, giving him a dazzling smile, and coyly curled a strand of my hair and attempted to keep a straight face.
"Actually, I would love to put that mouth of yours to good work, would you like to try?" He asked me, and I blushed, realizing that no matter how I tried to play it off, he was more experienced at this game than I was, however I wasn't willing to show him he was embarrassing me or that I was innocent and not quite sure what he even meant.
"Why don't you tell me what exactly it is you want?" I ask him, and that's when I noticed he had blushed, just a little, the tips of his ears and his cheeks dusted pink. So THAT'S how I got a reaction out of him, I would file that piece of information away for later. Apparently this was a topic that he was content to tease me about but would make him blush.
"Princess, I don't think you have the guts to do it, I think if I had you get on your knees before me, and touch me and kiss me, you'd run screaming out of the room before I could even get my pants off."
"Wait, I would kiss your... thingie, that thing that is attached to you and is in your pants?" I hadn't realized he was referring to his man bits. I had never seen those in person, but I knew men and women where different. Now I was curious, I wanted to see what they actually looked like. I had a really good imagination, but I wanted to see if the reality was anything like I had fantasized about.
I watched his face turn a little darker pink as I spoke more graphically. Good, so my outrageous language got a good reaction out of him, my initial impression was correct. Yeah! I finally found something to pester him with, that would make him blush and would get some kind of reaction out of him. It was about time I found something that unsettled him just a little since he apparently could read me so well.
"Princess, kissing it isn't all you'd do it. Would you like me to describe what I want you to do with it, or maybe you'd prefer me to show you?"
"I think describing it is good enough for me right now." I answered honestly. My curiosity got the better of me and while I was a little embarrassed, I was also intrigued, and interested in his response. I had all sorts of questions regarding this kind of stuff and I'd never had someone I could ask those questions before and get an honest answer. I was willing to ignore that I hated him if he was willing to give me an honest and straight answer, it was about time someone wouldn't just tell me I shouldn't ask the questions or I didn't need to know the answers. Maybe it would help me even figure out who I was if I could have the answers to my questions answered.
My questions regarding this type of a topic is what resulted in my father sending me away. He was worried my questions would be followed by me acting on the answers once I had that knowledge and information. I was supposed to remain ‘chaste and pure' for my husband. I always wondered what was wrong with asking questions or being curious and why people would freak out so badly by the type of questions I had.
My mother catching me touching myself and exploring my body in bed was the final straw that broke the camel's back and I was sent here with in the week of that situation occurring. I had been here ever since. I always felt guilty that bodies and the interactions between males and females aroused my curiosity, in more than one ways.
I always wondered what was different about me or wrong with me compared to everyone else. My Mother told me it was unusual that I had expressed such an interest in things. She even told me that I had behaved odd since I was little and it was all they could do to contain my behavior to behind closed doors so no one else would know.
I had tried to pretend like I was normal, but when I was a lone and in private, I allowed my imagination to take me away to a place that I knew wouldn't be acceptable to most people.
"I would have you kneel at my feet; I would grab your hair with my hands. I would have you open your mouth and take me inside of it, and while you were sucking on me and using your tongue to rub the bottom of my cock in your mouth, I would gag you with it, I would want to see your tears stream down your face from choking on it and being unable to breathe as you inhale my penis down your throat."
Wow, that was a little more graphic than I was expecting and I know my face was as red as a cherry. But the image in my mind could picture it. It scared me, but I was also curious to see what that would feel like.
"Why would you make me choke on it?" I asked, curious.
"The sheer power of forcing it down your throat, the fact that I'd control your head and you'd be unable to pull your head back or turn away from me, the fact that I'd have total control over your face and you'd be forced to take whatever I wanted to give you, I like that you're a tiny, delicate little girl Princess, it would be fun to see you squirm, and beg and plead and I like the idea of having you at my mercy, to me, you're like prey and I enjoy the hunt and stalking you, and in the end, when your all conquered, you will thank me for it...." He answered me honestly.
"I... see..." I choked out unable to meet his eyes, he saw me as prey? What the hell. I was no man's prey, though I had to admit, he did remind me of a silent predator, like the mountain lion who toys with his prey and only shows itself once it either decides it's curious about something, or decides it is going to take it down.
Oh, god, what had I gotten myself into. Why hadn't I picked one of those nice, non-assuming, non predatory men while I had the chance....
How in the world did he think I'd THANK him for hunting me and bending my will to his? I certainly wasn't thanking him now, and I don't think I would ever thank him for treating me like this... this was... I couldn't even put words to it; I was so flustered from this conversation I couldn't even think straight.
When I was asking for answers, I had to admit this wasn't exactly what I was thinking he'd say, the image his words would produce, or that he'd have been so blasted honest. Maybe, I needed to be more careful what I asked in the future if I wasn't sure I'd like the answers.
I took a moment to decide if I was going to totally freak out or not about this topic. My brain was no longer completely rational. I took a moment to self-analyze.
I noticed my heart was beating faster, that even if my brain logically was kind of freaking out about his words, my girl bits went the opposite direction, and they were moist, wet and slightly throbbing. I think I needed to go to my room and think about this. The reaction was not what I was expecting, and instead of being totally afraid of him, I was excited.
Yeah, I didn't get. The urge to get away from him and this room suddenly overwhelmed me. I think I was going to panic. He was still between me and the nearest exit and I wasn't sure how I'd manage to excuse myself without him noticing that he was the main reason I was taking a quick escape route to put some space between me and him.
Wait, that was right, I had a final dress fitting this afternoon, perfect excuse to escape his evil clutches.
"While this has been an enlightening conversation, I need to go get ready, the modiste will be here in a while to do my final dress fitting for the wedding, unless of course, you'd prefer me to just show up naked for our wedding." I told him, it came out snarkier than I intended, but I was actually rather proud of myself for sounding snarky instead of scared of him. I got up and started heading towards the door, my head held high, haughty, ignoring him like he was the scum of the earth.
"By all means Princess, run away like a little rabbit, I know how to find you." His laughter trailed after me as I ran from the room.
"Yes, will you walk downstairs with me nicely or is that going to be a fight too?"
"I can walk, I am not incapacitated you know." I sounded snippy and it apparently amused him and he chuckled at me.
We walked downstairs to one of the smaller dining halls that we used for everyday use and ate lunch in relative silence. Neither of us mentioned the kiss while we were being served our lunch, but a few of the girls came and told me they were glad I was out and about again and that they had missed seeing me. I felt guilty that I had locked myself away for so long. I really hadn't thought about anyone but myself and it made me feel really selfish...
I picked at my foot, eating little nibbles off my plate. I had actually eaten a fairly large breakfast, and just wasn't very hungry... I thought about the kiss he made me give him, even with me kissing him, I realized he had ordered me to do it, so even in my initiating it, it was because he had TOLD me to do it. The idea that I was that easily manipulated by him irked me.
I pushed the food around my plate for a few moments and the silence was killing me, I hated when my brain started going into over drive and thinking too much. I hated it. I finally dropped my fork and looked up and glared at Markus. Everything was his fault. My life being turned upside down was his fault. I would blame him for everything. He started it, he came here, he got my home, he ruined my life, and now after he had taken away EVERYTHING that mattered to me, he wanted me to have feelings for him. God how stupid could he be. I would hate him forever. And ever and ever and ever and forever is a long time!
He sat at the end of the long table that could seat up to twenty-four people. The room that contained the table was long and skinny; it was all stone with hardwood floors with family paintings and wall hangings in it. There were large windows with colored glass in them, and when the sun was high, it would shine through making the room look like a rainbow was hitting it.
"I'd ask you to go on a walk with me now that were almost done with lunch, but I am not sure I want to go swimming again." His voice interrupted my thoughts as I had started to space out in my own little world.
"You'd deserve it." I told him.
"Princess, have you ever considered that you're really the one who wants that kind of treatment? Being hurt, being punished, and being controlled?"
"Huh, what in the world are you talking about? Are you totally insane?" I stared at him in shock.
"I think you do things to get attention, I think you want me to hurt you, and I think you like being controlled, you protest to loudly for me to think you are being honest Princess. Your words and your actions contradict each other."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." I felt the horror mounting, my brain was having trouble understanding this situation and it was quickly going in a direction I didn't like. I realized that where he was sitting at the head of the table meant that he was closer to the exit than I was, and I would most likely have to go through him to escape. I started feeling claustrophobic and panicky. Again, he had me in a situation where I had to get through him to get out.
"Princess, you're lying to yourself again, you know how I can tell when you know you're lying? You won't look me in the eyes; you avert your gaze and look anywhere else except my face. You are easy to read Princess." He chuckled and leaned back in his chair, his plate empty and now forgotten.
"No, I look away because the only thing I can think about is removing your eyes from their socket and I do it so I don't tempt myself into actually doing it." I sneered at him. I jumped out of my chair with my fork in my head and stabbed it in his direction as I indicated his eyes.
I had to admit, that when his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared at me, it made me excited, I felt like prey, like he was going to chase me around the room. And, I could sort of MAYBE admit to myself that it was kind of hot in an exhilarating way I couldn't quite describe. That didn't mean I liked him though, I still hated his guts and wanted to stab his eyes out and pull his toenails off and yank on his hair and scratch him and not have him pin me down and kiss me and press his body against mine.
Whoa, my brain was totally going to a place I didn't say it could go. Do. Not. Think. About. Him. Kissing me. That is totally asking for trouble! Bad brain, bad Ashlynn, I was lecturing myself inside my own head, oh yeah, I was going loony on myself.... Do not have those kinds of thoughts, or he will do his little mind reading thing and manipulate you. I swear he could read my mind. Maybe he couldn't but half the time he knew what I was going to do or say or think before I did it.
I took a lot of pleasure in the few times that I had managed to shock him or catch him off guard.
"Princess, put the fork down, I would ‘hate' to have to take it away from you." He arched a single brow, looking at me, taunting me, mocking me. I could see the expression on his face. I was learning to recognize that look. He was challenging me and hoping I'd rise to the occasion. The bloody bastard, two could play this game.
"Yes Sir, is there anything else I can do to please you while I am at it?" I told him and gently laid the fork on my plate, I looked up at him, giving him a dazzling smile, and coyly curled a strand of my hair and attempted to keep a straight face.
"Actually, I would love to put that mouth of yours to good work, would you like to try?" He asked me, and I blushed, realizing that no matter how I tried to play it off, he was more experienced at this game than I was, however I wasn't willing to show him he was embarrassing me or that I was innocent and not quite sure what he even meant.
"Why don't you tell me what exactly it is you want?" I ask him, and that's when I noticed he had blushed, just a little, the tips of his ears and his cheeks dusted pink. So THAT'S how I got a reaction out of him, I would file that piece of information away for later. Apparently this was a topic that he was content to tease me about but would make him blush.
"Princess, I don't think you have the guts to do it, I think if I had you get on your knees before me, and touch me and kiss me, you'd run screaming out of the room before I could even get my pants off."
"Wait, I would kiss your... thingie, that thing that is attached to you and is in your pants?" I hadn't realized he was referring to his man bits. I had never seen those in person, but I knew men and women where different. Now I was curious, I wanted to see what they actually looked like. I had a really good imagination, but I wanted to see if the reality was anything like I had fantasized about.
I watched his face turn a little darker pink as I spoke more graphically. Good, so my outrageous language got a good reaction out of him, my initial impression was correct. Yeah! I finally found something to pester him with, that would make him blush and would get some kind of reaction out of him. It was about time I found something that unsettled him just a little since he apparently could read me so well.
"Princess, kissing it isn't all you'd do it. Would you like me to describe what I want you to do with it, or maybe you'd prefer me to show you?"
"I think describing it is good enough for me right now." I answered honestly. My curiosity got the better of me and while I was a little embarrassed, I was also intrigued, and interested in his response. I had all sorts of questions regarding this kind of stuff and I'd never had someone I could ask those questions before and get an honest answer. I was willing to ignore that I hated him if he was willing to give me an honest and straight answer, it was about time someone wouldn't just tell me I shouldn't ask the questions or I didn't need to know the answers. Maybe it would help me even figure out who I was if I could have the answers to my questions answered.
My questions regarding this type of a topic is what resulted in my father sending me away. He was worried my questions would be followed by me acting on the answers once I had that knowledge and information. I was supposed to remain ‘chaste and pure' for my husband. I always wondered what was wrong with asking questions or being curious and why people would freak out so badly by the type of questions I had.
My mother catching me touching myself and exploring my body in bed was the final straw that broke the camel's back and I was sent here with in the week of that situation occurring. I had been here ever since. I always felt guilty that bodies and the interactions between males and females aroused my curiosity, in more than one ways.
I always wondered what was different about me or wrong with me compared to everyone else. My Mother told me it was unusual that I had expressed such an interest in things. She even told me that I had behaved odd since I was little and it was all they could do to contain my behavior to behind closed doors so no one else would know.
I had tried to pretend like I was normal, but when I was a lone and in private, I allowed my imagination to take me away to a place that I knew wouldn't be acceptable to most people.
"I would have you kneel at my feet; I would grab your hair with my hands. I would have you open your mouth and take me inside of it, and while you were sucking on me and using your tongue to rub the bottom of my cock in your mouth, I would gag you with it, I would want to see your tears stream down your face from choking on it and being unable to breathe as you inhale my penis down your throat."
Wow, that was a little more graphic than I was expecting and I know my face was as red as a cherry. But the image in my mind could picture it. It scared me, but I was also curious to see what that would feel like.
"Why would you make me choke on it?" I asked, curious.
"The sheer power of forcing it down your throat, the fact that I'd control your head and you'd be unable to pull your head back or turn away from me, the fact that I'd have total control over your face and you'd be forced to take whatever I wanted to give you, I like that you're a tiny, delicate little girl Princess, it would be fun to see you squirm, and beg and plead and I like the idea of having you at my mercy, to me, you're like prey and I enjoy the hunt and stalking you, and in the end, when your all conquered, you will thank me for it...." He answered me honestly.
"I... see..." I choked out unable to meet his eyes, he saw me as prey? What the hell. I was no man's prey, though I had to admit, he did remind me of a silent predator, like the mountain lion who toys with his prey and only shows itself once it either decides it's curious about something, or decides it is going to take it down.
Oh, god, what had I gotten myself into. Why hadn't I picked one of those nice, non-assuming, non predatory men while I had the chance....
How in the world did he think I'd THANK him for hunting me and bending my will to his? I certainly wasn't thanking him now, and I don't think I would ever thank him for treating me like this... this was... I couldn't even put words to it; I was so flustered from this conversation I couldn't even think straight.
When I was asking for answers, I had to admit this wasn't exactly what I was thinking he'd say, the image his words would produce, or that he'd have been so blasted honest. Maybe, I needed to be more careful what I asked in the future if I wasn't sure I'd like the answers.
I took a moment to decide if I was going to totally freak out or not about this topic. My brain was no longer completely rational. I took a moment to self-analyze.
I noticed my heart was beating faster, that even if my brain logically was kind of freaking out about his words, my girl bits went the opposite direction, and they were moist, wet and slightly throbbing. I think I needed to go to my room and think about this. The reaction was not what I was expecting, and instead of being totally afraid of him, I was excited.
Yeah, I didn't get. The urge to get away from him and this room suddenly overwhelmed me. I think I was going to panic. He was still between me and the nearest exit and I wasn't sure how I'd manage to excuse myself without him noticing that he was the main reason I was taking a quick escape route to put some space between me and him.
Wait, that was right, I had a final dress fitting this afternoon, perfect excuse to escape his evil clutches.
"While this has been an enlightening conversation, I need to go get ready, the modiste will be here in a while to do my final dress fitting for the wedding, unless of course, you'd prefer me to just show up naked for our wedding." I told him, it came out snarkier than I intended, but I was actually rather proud of myself for sounding snarky instead of scared of him. I got up and started heading towards the door, my head held high, haughty, ignoring him like he was the scum of the earth.
"By all means Princess, run away like a little rabbit, I know how to find you." His laughter trailed after me as I ran from the room.
bastard!
Last night... I got a stick up my ass. (not literally.)
I was tired and cranky by the time he got home, I Had FINALLY gotten a few minutes of peace and quiet... to write SOMETHING down that mattered to me on my book. It had been a long day between my son and the puppy. the minute I got one quieted done and settled, the other one would decide to get all riled back up.
He told me it was time for bed, and I said just give me a second to finish this paragraph. (actually, I ignored him zoned out for the first few minutes because I was in my writers space.)
He bitched that I should have been done before he got home. (wrong thing to say to me.) And he wouldn't STOP telling me I needed to be done with my shit by the time he got home from work.
(again, had I had a stick in my hand, I really, really might have whacked him over the head with it and damn any repercussions for the behavior, in that moment, I would have found them worth it.)
I said just be happy that I am getting up right now and going to bed with out fighting him on that even though I hated having a bed time and I walked out of the room.
He told me to round up the cats, and he didn't care if I didn't like having a bed time, again, he just reiterated that I should have had all my shit taken care of by the time he got home....
Well, that was it, I had enough of his not understanding shit and I was cranky and tired. I headed up stairs and told him to get the damn cats himself.
Next thing I know, he tackled me into the wall and had pinned me there by my throat. and I told him to stop trying to correct me like the damn puppy.
(I was also pissed off that it calmed me down, turned me on, and made me loopy, just with that one action. I was ALSO pissed that I was too tired to fuck his brains out actively. its amazing how one tiny little action can switch my gears so quickly.. but i was stilly pissy,most about the being too tired thing...)
And that I wasn't scared of him. (Well, I wasn't scared of him, I was mad at him, all caution was out the window and I think, just maybe, I might have been willing to push the issue if I hadn't been so damn tired.)
Well, After he tried to keep a straight look on his face, and FAILED.
(yes, the bastard was smiling while he pinned me to the wall by the throat, and I would really be surprised if my feet where even touching the ground.)
He proceeded to lecture me a moment, while smiling mind you.. then made me round up the damn cats. ;o
So, my point is this. If your going to say "no" and "fuck you asshole" even in attitude, make sure you run ALL the way up the stairs, and hide under the bed so they can't find you first. ;o
I asked him later why he chose to do it and he shrugged and said he felt like it. i said why would you do something that you know I kind of like, even if you do it scary when I've been being bad, and he goes, it fixed the issue didn't it? and I asked him, did you HAVE to smile like an ass while you did it? then he said, whats wrong with smiling?
bastard. ;o
I was tired and cranky by the time he got home, I Had FINALLY gotten a few minutes of peace and quiet... to write SOMETHING down that mattered to me on my book. It had been a long day between my son and the puppy. the minute I got one quieted done and settled, the other one would decide to get all riled back up.
He told me it was time for bed, and I said just give me a second to finish this paragraph. (actually, I ignored him zoned out for the first few minutes because I was in my writers space.)
He bitched that I should have been done before he got home. (wrong thing to say to me.) And he wouldn't STOP telling me I needed to be done with my shit by the time he got home from work.
(again, had I had a stick in my hand, I really, really might have whacked him over the head with it and damn any repercussions for the behavior, in that moment, I would have found them worth it.)
I said just be happy that I am getting up right now and going to bed with out fighting him on that even though I hated having a bed time and I walked out of the room.
He told me to round up the cats, and he didn't care if I didn't like having a bed time, again, he just reiterated that I should have had all my shit taken care of by the time he got home....
Well, that was it, I had enough of his not understanding shit and I was cranky and tired. I headed up stairs and told him to get the damn cats himself.
Next thing I know, he tackled me into the wall and had pinned me there by my throat. and I told him to stop trying to correct me like the damn puppy.
(I was also pissed off that it calmed me down, turned me on, and made me loopy, just with that one action. I was ALSO pissed that I was too tired to fuck his brains out actively. its amazing how one tiny little action can switch my gears so quickly.. but i was stilly pissy,most about the being too tired thing...)
And that I wasn't scared of him. (Well, I wasn't scared of him, I was mad at him, all caution was out the window and I think, just maybe, I might have been willing to push the issue if I hadn't been so damn tired.)
Well, After he tried to keep a straight look on his face, and FAILED.
(yes, the bastard was smiling while he pinned me to the wall by the throat, and I would really be surprised if my feet where even touching the ground.)
He proceeded to lecture me a moment, while smiling mind you.. then made me round up the damn cats. ;o
So, my point is this. If your going to say "no" and "fuck you asshole" even in attitude, make sure you run ALL the way up the stairs, and hide under the bed so they can't find you first. ;o
I asked him later why he chose to do it and he shrugged and said he felt like it. i said why would you do something that you know I kind of like, even if you do it scary when I've been being bad, and he goes, it fixed the issue didn't it? and I asked him, did you HAVE to smile like an ass while you did it? then he said, whats wrong with smiling?
bastard. ;o
Monday, November 16, 2009
control
I know that control is our thing.
I know that I obey because often times, its easier than the power struggle that would ensue, and I know in the end, I would lose and he will bend me to his will anyways. I know that service is a small part of it, and a side benefit of his control over me.
I know that the power flow from him to me and back that goes in a circle is what keeps our relationship driving forward, it's always ebbing and flowing and keeps life quite interesting.
I know that I don't surrender easily, and this is where force and control come into it, with out that, there is no reason. with out his control, there would be no point for either of us.
I know that I obey because often times, its easier than the power struggle that would ensue, and I know in the end, I would lose and he will bend me to his will anyways. I know that service is a small part of it, and a side benefit of his control over me.
I know that the power flow from him to me and back that goes in a circle is what keeps our relationship driving forward, it's always ebbing and flowing and keeps life quite interesting.
I know that I don't surrender easily, and this is where force and control come into it, with out that, there is no reason. with out his control, there would be no point for either of us.
no way out
Disclaimer: I just want to be "clear" that my Master is not abusing me, nor is he my evil ex who WAS abusive that I discuss in this blog post and I don't need rescued by anyone.
It really isn't as easy as just opening the door and walking through it. People underestimate the power of the words "You don't have permission to leave." Or "No." said in that certain tone.
Even if your logical mind goes "well fuck you asshole, I can leave whenever the fuck I want." The reality for someone who's so psychologically mind-fucked, trained to obey under stress, duress, pressure, pain and while freaking out it just isn't as simple as walking out the front door.
Logically, I know that it is simply as easy as just disappearing one day while he's at work, but it just won't happen. As I inch my way closer to the door I think "He will be unhappy, if I try to leave, he's going to hunt me down and drag me back by my hair and when he gets me home, he's going to lecture me for not asking first."
Or other thought processes similar to this one. It isn't even fear necessarily that stops me. It's the fact that I have been conditioned, brainwashed, trained that I have to ask, and even if I don't like the answer, I still have to obey and accept it.
People often go, but if he was *abusing* you... you'd be able to leave in a second.
Well, that's not true, maybe for other relationships, and maybe other dynamics I've had in the past... but not this one.
And, here's why my logic for this gives me the ability to say that. I know who I am, I know the way I think, and even when he's actively manipulating me, and I can see it happening, he knows me, so well inside and out, that I respond with animalistic instincts before I can even stop myself to his manipulation.
How do I know this is logically true for me? Well, I've had an abusive ex, one who I had to get myself out of it, and while I was only in the relationship living with him for 3 months before I got myself out, it wasn't easy, even that fast into the relationship. I did manage to get out, and I also tried to fix it while I was out of it and give him a second chance, because no matter how evil people are, there's a part of me that truly is naive enough to think and believe that people have the potential to be good people somewhere and he might have had the ability to become a better person... IF he wanted too.
He didn't, and I got two restraining orders and it this relationship was crazy scary for me in a bad way. He was dangerous for me in a bad way. However, he wasn't smart enough to learn me inside and out, or wait till my emotions were so tight up into the situation that I wouldn't have been able to extract myself without help. Had he been smarter, he would have done that.
Now, the reason I am being so honest about this, is because the tools an abuser uses are very similar to the ones my Master uses. Manipulation, brainwashing, emotional dependency etc. The only difference here is intentions behind the actions. My Master is inherently a decent human being with an outside moral code that he lives by to keep him honorable and his personal integrity is important to him...
However, if I asked for release, he'd say no. If I tried to run away, he'd come and get me. This is why I know that I wouldn't even be able to talk myself into trying, because the couple of times I did try, he stopped me, and used those experiences to indoctrinate into me that leaving is not an option without his permission.
This is a scary concept I suppose to some, the knee-jerk reaction even when I logically think this is what the hell is the matter with me, of COURSE I could leave if I had too... right? Then I think about it, and fear rushes over me and I realize that no, no I couldn't and I am trapped, because the emotional wiring he's established in my brain would cause me to shut down before I ever managed to get out that front door.
Not only that, but by the time he got home, I'd probably have worked myself into such a frenzy that I'd throw myself at his feet and beg for him to understand what I was thinking and to help me deal with my irrationality.
The key difference here, again is my Master has established boundaries in my life, took the time to emotionally pick me apart, and made it so that I cannot think of any realistic way to get myself out of this situation without a third party to help me or his telling me to go.
This is often a discussion that most people don't believe is possible, that ANYONE could just up and leave any time they want.... But the reality is unless you've been in these shoes, you probably just wouldn't understand why it's not possible. It really isn't the unlocked door that stands between me and my freedom.
It is him. It is all about him. It will always be him.
Even as an intelligent adult who can logically pick this apart, I can see it, when I walk towards that door, I suddenly detach from any rational, independent thinker that I have always been and become his, his will is stronger than mine, his brainwashing overrides my logic. And, that door is locked to me, the door knob is on fire, my skin couldn't handle touching it, there is no way out, unless he gives me one, and I know that he won't do that, so for me, leaving is just not an option no matter how logically I can understand that I LEGALLY would have a right to leave if I had too.
Legal, logical and psychological/emotional are totally separate issues here and I think this is a topic where people assume they are one and the same.
It really isn't as easy as just opening the door and walking through it. People underestimate the power of the words "You don't have permission to leave." Or "No." said in that certain tone.
Even if your logical mind goes "well fuck you asshole, I can leave whenever the fuck I want." The reality for someone who's so psychologically mind-fucked, trained to obey under stress, duress, pressure, pain and while freaking out it just isn't as simple as walking out the front door.
Logically, I know that it is simply as easy as just disappearing one day while he's at work, but it just won't happen. As I inch my way closer to the door I think "He will be unhappy, if I try to leave, he's going to hunt me down and drag me back by my hair and when he gets me home, he's going to lecture me for not asking first."
Or other thought processes similar to this one. It isn't even fear necessarily that stops me. It's the fact that I have been conditioned, brainwashed, trained that I have to ask, and even if I don't like the answer, I still have to obey and accept it.
People often go, but if he was *abusing* you... you'd be able to leave in a second.
Well, that's not true, maybe for other relationships, and maybe other dynamics I've had in the past... but not this one.
And, here's why my logic for this gives me the ability to say that. I know who I am, I know the way I think, and even when he's actively manipulating me, and I can see it happening, he knows me, so well inside and out, that I respond with animalistic instincts before I can even stop myself to his manipulation.
How do I know this is logically true for me? Well, I've had an abusive ex, one who I had to get myself out of it, and while I was only in the relationship living with him for 3 months before I got myself out, it wasn't easy, even that fast into the relationship. I did manage to get out, and I also tried to fix it while I was out of it and give him a second chance, because no matter how evil people are, there's a part of me that truly is naive enough to think and believe that people have the potential to be good people somewhere and he might have had the ability to become a better person... IF he wanted too.
He didn't, and I got two restraining orders and it this relationship was crazy scary for me in a bad way. He was dangerous for me in a bad way. However, he wasn't smart enough to learn me inside and out, or wait till my emotions were so tight up into the situation that I wouldn't have been able to extract myself without help. Had he been smarter, he would have done that.
Now, the reason I am being so honest about this, is because the tools an abuser uses are very similar to the ones my Master uses. Manipulation, brainwashing, emotional dependency etc. The only difference here is intentions behind the actions. My Master is inherently a decent human being with an outside moral code that he lives by to keep him honorable and his personal integrity is important to him...
However, if I asked for release, he'd say no. If I tried to run away, he'd come and get me. This is why I know that I wouldn't even be able to talk myself into trying, because the couple of times I did try, he stopped me, and used those experiences to indoctrinate into me that leaving is not an option without his permission.
This is a scary concept I suppose to some, the knee-jerk reaction even when I logically think this is what the hell is the matter with me, of COURSE I could leave if I had too... right? Then I think about it, and fear rushes over me and I realize that no, no I couldn't and I am trapped, because the emotional wiring he's established in my brain would cause me to shut down before I ever managed to get out that front door.
Not only that, but by the time he got home, I'd probably have worked myself into such a frenzy that I'd throw myself at his feet and beg for him to understand what I was thinking and to help me deal with my irrationality.
The key difference here, again is my Master has established boundaries in my life, took the time to emotionally pick me apart, and made it so that I cannot think of any realistic way to get myself out of this situation without a third party to help me or his telling me to go.
This is often a discussion that most people don't believe is possible, that ANYONE could just up and leave any time they want.... But the reality is unless you've been in these shoes, you probably just wouldn't understand why it's not possible. It really isn't the unlocked door that stands between me and my freedom.
It is him. It is all about him. It will always be him.
Even as an intelligent adult who can logically pick this apart, I can see it, when I walk towards that door, I suddenly detach from any rational, independent thinker that I have always been and become his, his will is stronger than mine, his brainwashing overrides my logic. And, that door is locked to me, the door knob is on fire, my skin couldn't handle touching it, there is no way out, unless he gives me one, and I know that he won't do that, so for me, leaving is just not an option no matter how logically I can understand that I LEGALLY would have a right to leave if I had too.
Legal, logical and psychological/emotional are totally separate issues here and I think this is a topic where people assume they are one and the same.
no time off
There is no time off being a slave for me. I am always owned, always his, always able to be asked to do something, always expected no matter what to drop what I am doing if he needs something or needs me to take care of something over my own personal interests.
I am a slave if I am kneeling naked at his feet, or walking the dog in the rain. There is no hat that comes on and off that means I am working or not working. Any time of the day or night I am expected to be available for him.
Even if he chooses to allow me to have a break in the sense of taking a bath or a nap, if he decides I've had enough time to do that, then he expects me to stop doing it and pay attention to him. Life being a slave isn't always easy.
This is why I have to ask permission to do anything. If it is going to impact him in any way, or come up in any fashion, I should ask. That is the main expectation for our relationship. I ask, I communicate, and he wants to know where I am at, and what I am doing at all times. In case he needs or wants something or wants me to change my plans and do something else for whatever reason.
While I wouldn't ask when he's not home if I can use the bathroom, when he is home, I would ask if I may use it, he may want me to grab him a drink while I am up.
While I would just clean the litter box when he's not home, I would ask when he is home in case he doesn't want me to do it while he's sitting in the office in case it disturbs him.
I wouldn't feed the dogs without texting to ask because that's normally something he does with them, and I wouldn't want to do it and have him come home and be expecting to do it and have had me make a pre-emptive decision that would mess up his routine or schedule or expectations without asking.
We are a control based relationship. We are not a service based relationship. Occasionally service is the side effect of his control, but he also does many things for me and to me that would be considered a service act.
Such as washing my hair, choosing my clothes, fixing my meals, giving me what he wants me to have, sometimes he even brushes my hair.
He hates pre-emptive or anticipatory service. His rule of thumb has always been "ask first". I can take a pretty good guess when he wants a drink, but I shouldn't assume what he wants to drink, I should ask, or offer, he doesn't always WANT a drink and he gets irritated if someone tries to get him something he doesn't want.
For us, control is the basis of everything we do in our life. He leads, I follows, He orders, I obey. Sometimes we have power struggles, my Owner likes them (provided he's not tired, and I know if he says not tonight, I try to stay on my best behavior so he can have a nice evening, he will fight with me soon enough and help me get it out of my system.)
Everything is done on his terms, not mine. Everything is his rules, not mine. And while this may drive me crazy at times, to have so many things out of my realm of control, this is just the way it is, control is our kink.
He controls, I am controlled. He controls the direction our life goes, and I just sit in the passenger seat going along for the ride and try not to be a back seat driver.
I am a slave if I am kneeling naked at his feet, or walking the dog in the rain. There is no hat that comes on and off that means I am working or not working. Any time of the day or night I am expected to be available for him.
Even if he chooses to allow me to have a break in the sense of taking a bath or a nap, if he decides I've had enough time to do that, then he expects me to stop doing it and pay attention to him. Life being a slave isn't always easy.
This is why I have to ask permission to do anything. If it is going to impact him in any way, or come up in any fashion, I should ask. That is the main expectation for our relationship. I ask, I communicate, and he wants to know where I am at, and what I am doing at all times. In case he needs or wants something or wants me to change my plans and do something else for whatever reason.
While I wouldn't ask when he's not home if I can use the bathroom, when he is home, I would ask if I may use it, he may want me to grab him a drink while I am up.
While I would just clean the litter box when he's not home, I would ask when he is home in case he doesn't want me to do it while he's sitting in the office in case it disturbs him.
I wouldn't feed the dogs without texting to ask because that's normally something he does with them, and I wouldn't want to do it and have him come home and be expecting to do it and have had me make a pre-emptive decision that would mess up his routine or schedule or expectations without asking.
We are a control based relationship. We are not a service based relationship. Occasionally service is the side effect of his control, but he also does many things for me and to me that would be considered a service act.
Such as washing my hair, choosing my clothes, fixing my meals, giving me what he wants me to have, sometimes he even brushes my hair.
He hates pre-emptive or anticipatory service. His rule of thumb has always been "ask first". I can take a pretty good guess when he wants a drink, but I shouldn't assume what he wants to drink, I should ask, or offer, he doesn't always WANT a drink and he gets irritated if someone tries to get him something he doesn't want.
For us, control is the basis of everything we do in our life. He leads, I follows, He orders, I obey. Sometimes we have power struggles, my Owner likes them (provided he's not tired, and I know if he says not tonight, I try to stay on my best behavior so he can have a nice evening, he will fight with me soon enough and help me get it out of my system.)
Everything is done on his terms, not mine. Everything is his rules, not mine. And while this may drive me crazy at times, to have so many things out of my realm of control, this is just the way it is, control is our kink.
He controls, I am controlled. He controls the direction our life goes, and I just sit in the passenger seat going along for the ride and try not to be a back seat driver.
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