The Vault / An Archive of Sorts ...

2007-10-31T08:50:00.001-07:00

please allow me to WAX on ..................

2007-07-25T06:36:00.000-07:00

13 November, 2006

slave decorating tip #1

Just as a slave should be decorated, so too should be the home!

my first little home-decorating tip is one i learned from a dear friend, a trooper, a survivor, my girlfriend shannon who can decorate a palace on a shoe string ... who can be dirt poor or in crisis and still manage to light a candle and laugh and toast to her God -- life itself.

Here is what she taught me ...

Candles in the home should ALWAYS have burnt wicks. If you dare to have brand new candles in candle holders ANYWHERE IN THE HOUSE -- in and about the living room, gracing your dining room table, lining your bathroom tub, inserted in your slave's pussy, it matters not how pretty, how fragrant, how expensive -- if you've never LIT them, it is a serious faux pas.

Here's why ...

1) It means its all show and nothing more and something just for show just ain't real. Its like owning a bicycle and never riding it or owning a slave and never using it. What's the point?

2) It means you are not living. WHAT are you saving the candles for? i read about a woman who died and it was discovered that a very special scarf was still in her lingerie top drawer, tags on, a little note to herself tucked inside. "SAVE this for our next anniversary." she died only days before the anniversary. What a waste ... of a scarf, of a life.

WHY? Why save anything? Use it today because there may not be a tomorrow. Live for the moment and celebrate each day as if its your last.

LIGHT your candles, people, DARNIT -- LIGHT up and LIVE!! And if you happen to get the dripless candles, just remember that slaves DO enjoy hot wax so each type has its purpose. Dripless for the table, DRIPPING HOT for the dungeon. ~wink~

Photograph from www.abond.com.

Ugly Men

2007-04-16T18:07:00.000-07:00

5 October, 2006

i've screwed a few ugly men.

More in character would be to say, "a few ugly men have screwed me".

The good news is that at least i can count the ugly men just as i can count the platonic ones, too. All the others have been lovers or else they used me as a sex object ... or just plain used me. (Who knew! i always confused sex with love.)

i talked to an old friend of mine today -- i went to college with Him. He did a great thing for four years straight. He eyed me over in a most lecherous fashion CONSTANTLY and i paid Him no attention. i was not doing a Mistress thing -- i just honestly didn't notice Him, the person, but i did enjoy His leering and His remarks. All i really ever felt was that He seemed to be undressing me with His eyes ALL THE TIME ... or insinuating something like "I know you -- I know what you want" -- and He managed to do it without more than a few Brooklynese utterances like "uh-huh" or "yeah". THAT i definitely noticed.

Four years later i permitted Him access. Not that i "allowed" it per se because again, i didn't see things that way. It just goes to show you how surface interpretations are just that -- SURFACE. What really happened was that the guy was hungry enough that He watched me for four years like a friendly-non-threatening stalker and then, in an opportune moment, He picked me off when i least expected it.

He was not a stalker but He was a friend and He wanted me and i liked playing with Him -- dangling myself around like a catnip feather toy. i darted in and out and taunted Him relentlessly. i kept the distance because He didn't follow through to show me He wasn't soft.

The only way i finally did really notice Him, the person, the Man, was not when He sent me roses after the first kiss, nor was it after O/our first dinner or full interlude, but instead it was when W/we were out with friends at a German bar dining on Happy Hour liverwurst and egg sandwiches (free, free, free and two drinks for one!). He was so perturbed with my being pre-occupied that He got up out of the blue, came over to where i was either flirting or gyrating with friends, and grabbed me and planted a HARD DEEP kiss in me and said goodbye ... forever.

i took notice. He got firm ... and so too did i (if i were a Man). i felt myself with a rock hard erection.

But He was not ugly. He was not one of them ... at least not after that kiss.

When i talked to Him today, after quite some time, W/we attempted to get caught up on who is where and who got fat and who died. He asked if i remembered the Italian guy i went out with. i threw out a variety of names but they did not register as the correct Italian guy. i did NOT "go out" with the Italian guy to whom He was referring. He said, "well, I don't know if you'll own up to it" ... and i didn't ... and then He proceeded to tell me that he is now a big time director in Hollywood.

Okay -- i can now own up!

i'm really just kidding a bit here. i was friends with the guy, i did get put into a position of having to give him a blowjob one night ... BUT ... the whole point of this blog is to say that wow -- isn't it strange how a girl will profess ignorance or denial UNTIL there is something that gives her permission?

Yeah, its okay for a cute tart to marry a big old ugly executive IF he has money.
Its okay for shalanna or whatever her name is to marry Donald Quack with the duck-tail hair-do.
Its okay if, if, if ........................... if Angelica Houston is married to an artist and Christina Aguilera is married to a record producer ... and Julia did Lyle and Paulina is STILL with Rick Ocasek ...
and so, when will i get my justification for the other ugly men?

A girl has to justify being used by an ugly man or else she feels cheap and violated. Or tainted. Dirtied.

Today i decided that i would actually make Master proud. i used to deplore the label, "slut". Today i can actually cop to it in order to feel vindicated.

And still, this entire post makes me feel ugly ... but it makes me feel cleansed, as well.

Illustration: Farrell

GEOLOGY for MASTERS & sLAVES !!

2007-04-16T17:50:00.000-07:00

17 October, 2006

Here i was so proud of myself. i thought i had possibly coined a new word! i thought of how much i love seduction and i thought about abduction (taken against will) and submission (my glory) and how when they all came together, i'd have a catchy name for a new website. i thought FOR SURE this would be a brilliant discovery, that is, until i learned it already exists! BUT, the great news is that it is still a GREAT word for a GREAT process and it is completely relevant! Check it out:

SUBDUCTION

A subduction zone is an area on Earth where two tectonic plates meet and move towards one another, with one sliding underneath the other and moving down into the mantel.

That's pretty clear. Master and slave meet and move towards one another ... One sliding underneath the other and moving DOWN INTO the mantel. Okay, but read on! It gets better!

An Oceanic plates slides underneath a continental plate and this often creates a zone with many volcanoes and earthquakes.

That would explain the type or orgasms i have.

In a sense, subduction zones are the opposite of divergent boundaries.

Well, of course! Masters and slaves are convergent not divergent! This makes perfect sense.

Earth is the only planet where subduction is known to occur. Without subduction, plate tectonics could not exist and Earth would be a very different planet; Earth's crust would not have differentiated into continents and oceans and all of the solid Earth would lie beneath the global ocean.

Okay. Interesting. Without Masters and slaves uniting, W/we'd all be missing out on deep mantel movement and eruptions and that would mean W/we'd not have any land on which to rest, mountains on which to climb, horizons on which to dream. It would mean no tectonic penises, no cushy mantels to penetrate.

(Sidenote: tectonic means having a strong widespread impact -- clearly they were using Master as their tectonic plate model when writing the definition of subduction. ~wink~ )

The presence of large areas of flood basalt that are called large igneous provinces, which result in EXTREME THICKENING of the oceanic crust, can cause some sections of older oceanic lithosphere to be too buoyant to subduct.

This sounds confusing but i can help decipher it. Basically, this means that if a submissive is older and with a thick crust, she is harder to penetrate. If however, she is older but has remained OPEN and not jaded to the point of thickness, she can be subducted.

Where the lithosphere is too dense to subduct, a collision occurs, hence the adage, "subduction leads to orogeny".

Well, here again, of course! If a submissive resists and the subduction cannot occur, she flies off the handle and naturally, the Master and the submissive collide! Then you've got that divergent something-or-other rather than convergence. Divergence, just like a strong force attempting to penetrate a closed resistant mind, would bring about a collision of wills. The tectonic plate has to get UNDERNEATH the other plate in order to get into the mantel, so if she's busy resisting, it isn't going to work!

As far as the adage, "subduction leads to orogeny", i've never heard of it, although i'm trying to remember ...

When it rains it pours.
Slow and steady wins the race.
A rich man's prank is a poor man's felony.
Necessity is the mother of invention.
A drink precedes a story.
Subduction leads to orogeny.

Ahh -- okay, there it is!

Orogeny means the process of building mountains. Here again, right on target! Subduction leads to the building of mountains! The infinite climb toward higher ground! A Master without slaves and a slave without a Master ... T/they'd probably be beneath the global ocean if not for subduction.

Subduction zones are associated with the deepest earthquakes on the planet. Earthquakes are generally restricted to the shallow parts of the crust, generally at depths of less than 20km. In subduction zones, earthquakes are at depths as great as 700km.

There we go! Finally -- the proof! i've been telling everyone this for a few years now. my orgasms used to be those little clitoral ones and now they are EXPLOSIVE!! Seismic! EARTH-SHATTERING! i'm quite certain the tremors can be felt clear around the world, all the way to Tokyo. Now i know the name for them, too! They're Wadati-Benioff zones. They are named after the scientists who discovered them and wow that must have been a fun research project for them!

Some subducted slabs cannot penetrate the mantle whereas other subducted oceanic plates can penetrate all the way to the core-mantel boundary. Seismic discontinuities in the mantle are disrupted by the descent of cold slabs in deep subduction zones.

Okay -- now THIS should be familiar to all deeply enslaved slaves. The deeper the subduction zone, the more likely you are to fall victim to bouts of descent. The great seismic activity brings about exaltation from those great explosions but it also makes you realize HOW much power and strength is being bestowed upon you from the tectonic plate. A slave is prone to the cold of missing her Master and that creates a little discontinuity in the mantel from time to time. As to the core-mantel boundary, i'm guessing that means the g-spot.

Subduction causes oceanic trenches, such as the Mariana trench. Trenches occur when one plate begins its descent beneath another.

There ya go -- that would be it. Trenches: melancholy or depression. i was in a Mariana trench over the weekend.

Volcanoes that occur directly above subduction zones, such as Mount St. Helens and Mount Fuji, often occur in arcuate chains, hence the term volcanic arc or island arc.

i'm guessing that this has to do with being multi-orgasmic. Little island chains are formed rather than just one big island. Its a whole string of them, one after the other after the other. mine are called the Wadati-Benioff Islands.

Now for a little summary:

Subduction Zone Physics: Sinking the mantel lithosphere (lithosphere meaning the solid part of a celestial body -- just think of this as the human being and in this case, the slave) provides most of the force needed to drive plate motion and is the Dominant mode of mantel convection.

Now THIS is great! It is the best description yet! The slave's reduction provides most of the force -- it is the Dominant mode for the transfer of heat (TPE -- total power exchange) and the "cooking" of two Yin/yang souls. This is to confirm what many say about what really drives a Master/slave relationship -- sure, the Master and His tectonic action drives the relationship in one sense, but it is her reduction that actually determines the course. Without it, it would only be control, not convection.

Plus, its that beautiful paradox, the "sinking the mantel" (her submitting to His taking her down into the gutter) is actually a catalyst to His power. Notice they don't say that the tectonic plate's penetration of the mantel is the Dominant force but instead her sinking is the force -- hence, T/their interaction is essential!

Subduction Zone Chemistry: The cold material sinking in subduction zones releases water into the overlying mantle, causing mantle melting and fractionating elements.

Here we go again! Something else i've been saying forever! Darn i should have been part of that Wadati-Benioff research team!!

The cold material is the baggage, the responsibilities, the struggles ... its all released, BOOM -- one big GIANT GUSH -- the slave finds RELEASE through her Master, through her enslavement, through subduction! His taking of her and His plate sliding up underneath her plate is His getting inside UNDERNEATH and carrying her ... it causes her to erupt! To SQUIRT BUCKETS all over the place! she MELTS ... she becomes WHOLE through those fractionating elements -- she becomes MORE ... more able, more confident, more open, more loving.

Subduction Zone Biology: Because subduction zones are the coldest parts of the Earth's interior and life cannot exist at temperatures of below 150 degrees C, subduction zones are almost certainly with the DEEPEST, HIGHEST pressure biosphere.

No surprise -- not all life can live there. Its not for everyone. But if you do live there, it is the deepest place and the highest place. There is a certain difficulty that can come with high pressure zones -- learning to find the balance ... learning to not get the bends when you come up too fast. Things like that. You must decompress properly when coming up. Sure, it also may SEEM cold -- the dungeon and all -- but that is the beauty of a biosphere -- it is where life CAN exist in harmony together with its environment.

Final summation:

Learning more about the physics, chemistry, and biology of BDSM -- oops, i mean subduction ha ha, requires efforts that are increasingly interdisciplinary and international.

Ya see!! i SHOULD have been a scientist! i knew this, too, all along! Every single thing in life can be traced or paralleled. It just depends on how you want to look at the world. Discipline, if applied correctly, should consider all sorts of interdisciplinary study. A Master studies His slave's physiology as much as He studies her psychology as much as He studies science and history and human foibles, also called feminine delicacies. He understands her ascents and her descents.

i too like my kaleidoscope vision -- i know that everything in life relates to my life as Master's slave. i know too that the subduction zone is where i was born and where i was meant to remain.

The Submissive Splinter Group

2007-04-16T17:46:00.000-07:00

20 October, 2006

i just realized what has happened! i just figured it out!

It used to be that all slaves were submissives but not all submissives were slaves. All dogs are mammals but not all mammals are dogs.

But, all this commotion and arguing that has ensued over whom is whom and whom is what is REALLY because there is a new splinter group! Its the sub-set of submissives who are really too big for their britches ... and britches they are -- they're busy wearing the pants when they ought to be dropping their skirts. They are a rights-minded organization. They hand out alot of literature and propaganda. Their world is their podium.

Here everyone is up in arms about their behavior but they are like any extremist off-shoot group or sect. They are actually women who believe themselves entitled -- they are TOO interested in their rights and not their responsibilities. They are VERY busy trying to run the show and they might even be latent Mistresses. Isn't it funny how the far left becomes right wing? Its really no different -- they are so onto demanding respect yet they don't show how they've earned it -- they basically have taken submissiveness and spun it into Dominance and female superiority! Don't they know its safe to come out of the closet?

Actually -- i take that back. Its not safe! Who wants a fundamentalist or a militant women's libber to be out on the prowl? They get out and then they INTRUDE on everyone else who is peacefully enjoying their life. If you pose a question to them, they'll read you the Declaration of (their) Independence. Hey, i only asked if you liked watersports! i didn't ask how many lifeguards are required BY SUBMISSIVE LAW, if floatation rescue devices will be present BY SUBMISSIVE CODE, if ALL women are entitled to lifeguards and floatation rescue devices, if you'll only drink piss on the condition that your Master drinks herbal tea and doesn't take vitamins and you get to spit it out -- and besides, i haven't even invited you into my pool yet! They are presumptuous and premature because they have a pent-up put-upon rage. They haven't learned to let go and open up.

The reason you see it with submissive females and not submissive males is because women are fighting a historical battle. They are indoctrinated with societal rules from having been exposed to oppression rather than Dominance. They're conflicted. Their biology wants them to submit but their mother and their mother's mother told them to hold out.

Cautious then becomes CAUSTIC!

You could say they're uppity. They're more like attack dogs than they are like pets. They'd take more pleasure in biting your head off than wagging their tail.

You could say they're controlling. They have to CONTROL a Dominant's control of them. Okay ... i'm ready Master ... WAIT WAIT WAIT A MINUTE, SIR -- i don't like the way You tied that knot, Master. Kindly do it over. No i will not show Your neighbor my twat and no, i won't use a litter box! They really don't WANT to be controlled at all! They don't want a journey of unknowns, they don't even want evolution. They want CONTROL and that's about it. Sure, an initial reaction of resistance is natural (like when Master insisted i wear some shoes once that i deemed NOT flattering -- i did not get my way and although i HATED wearing those shoes that night, i was happier the next day knowing that Master proved Himself in charge).

You could say they're self righteous. Hey, wait a minute! i just realized something else! Its more that the self righteous infiltrated the submissive set and they armed them with Uzies rather than pumping them with cum! Why that is exactly what happened! Had they been pumped with cum enough, they probably would be genuinely submissive. In fact, that is the best come back line around -- if you ever find yourself with some uptight b____ (rhymes with witch) telling you off, just tell her you are really sorry to see that she clearly doesn't get laid enough. Its the same way you tell a puffed up man (who isn't really a Man) that you feel sorry for him since his penis is so small.

But you see, THAT is precisely it -- its that self-righteous ATTACK mode and that little soap box they carry around -- its not that they are phony submissives, its that they are self-righteous people. Submissiveness has nothing to do with it. Self-righteousness comes in all colours. They're never humble, they're never with respect for others, they're usually ill-mannered, and they run the gamut -- they wear name tags like submissive or macho or intellectual, however you need to look not at the tag, but the tattoo. The tattoo reads: "self-important entitlement snob" or "contentious authority" but they themselves are pretty confused as to who they are. They fight you, they fight others, they fight their own desires.

Illustration: Aigando.

girls will be girls

2007-04-16T17:43:00.000-07:00

21 October, 2006

Sometimes i witness an audacious flirting episode and i think, wow, that was REALLY forward! i forget how forward i've been!

girls will be girls and thank God for girls ... and their teasing and taunting. Sex is MORE than alive and well in life and the next time you take a trip to the grocery store, contemplate the fact that every other person you see probably has lustful secrets tucked under the eggs, the gallon of 2% milk, the tater-tots.

The other night, i was out with friends and usually i don't do this too much. Its dangerous. It always results in too much drinking, fighting off guys, fighting off urges, hence, wasted time. i'd much rather be with Master. i'm like the virgin holding out for her wedding day. Time with Master is matrimony!

Nonetheless, i love being exposed to the world (don't we all know it by now? ~wink~) and i love observing. When i see Master later today, i sure hope He won't mind if i could have a two hour chat with Him just to update Him on all i said and felt when out with friends. (That should be fun for Master! )

my one friend's boyfriend was out of town so she held court. She is the kind of woman who probably loves her friends more than her guy. She organized the get-together. As is usually the case, it was a mixed group of lots of girls with little in common, and a scattering of Male studs. They're not really guys -- they're Males who serve as eye-candy. They're guys from the gym and they're built but they're not yet Men. For instance, were a Man to be present, i probably would have had a completely different body language! Men NOTICE women, boys don't. Boys haven't yet learned how to penetrate a woman except for with their dick. They don't understand that you can f. a woman DEEPLY with all her clothes on.

One of the girls at the table was beside herself with horniness. She passed around a cell phone to show a picture of a guy she met in Vegas. From what i could tell, ALL i can tell is that He is a fairly big black penis. It was a close-up shot. She went on to tell me what she does ... she does manicures and waxing and permanent make-up and semi-permanent eyelashes and she does Him and WANTS to do Him (she pointed to the waiter). She showed us her newest discovery -- a vibrator that attaches to a condom.

The boys at the table stared off into space.

my friend of course is a delight because she brings together this assortment of people and they all come! She asked me later about the vibrator contraption -- she said, "I guess that's baby stuff to you, huh?". W/we laughed a good laugh. i told her i could teach her a few things. ~wink~

But you see, its the flirting and the sexual innuendo that is so much more blatant than anyone realizes. There is all this interconnection and My good Dom friend told me that He has a video of the owner of the bar getting f.ed up the whazoo. Yep -- the bar i was just at with friends! Small world! Its like cross-platform social intercourse! You find out that the chick at the doctor's office is a slave, the babe at the auto supply store is a stripper, and the barber is into diapers. The librarian is an underground porn star! (Okay -- that's a stretch.)

i then thought more of the bar owner ... she likes it up the back ... just like me! How many other of my neighbors like it that way? How much do i actually have in common with others while i'm busy feeling like such an outcast (a happy outcast all the same)?

Here i think there are prudes running around all over the place and wow would you be surprised! When Master goes out with friends from work, all sorts of things happen. i always worry, not about Master, but about some tasty dish flaunting herself in front of His eyes. Master is a Man, not a boy -- He notices. He also has self-control (she reminds herself ~wink~). But you see, social intercourse -- a Man penetrating a woman's head and soul leads to a libido that is DOUSED in desire, much more than anything physical. i can guarantee that a schtooping in the bathroom or a feel up (and IN) under a girl's skirt are something, but a Man showing desire with His eyes is far more dangerous.

girls are really brassy -- they think nothing of coming up to a Man and saying, "i know You want me" and they'll pull down their top, they'll swoosh around their tail and they'll give blow jobs for free in the bathroom. girls love being noticed and sure, telling her she's smart is the smartest place to start with seduction, but make sure she's equally revered for her sexuality. Smart and sexy -- now You're IN. But you see? she's got the upper hand in these moments. girls are notorious for exposing a Man as a penis. As a dick-tease, she basically has collared Them to follow her cunt like a sniffing salivating dog.

But then girls FORTUNATELY are taught their lesson. The dog humps, the dog leaves, the dog moves onto the next bitch in heat. The girl starts a game she can't finish. she is prone to falling in love no matter how she attempts to play a Man's game.

~~~ + ~~~

i was thinking back to my shameless display on the beach one night. A few years ago in the Caribbean -- a setting where nakedness and purity and primal pursuits are in the air. i was enjoying it all but i was very horny for attention more than sex. The aching escalated. By the end of the trip, i was calling a former Master asking if He could visit and i was setting up dates with a local waiter, neither of which panned out, thankfully.

i had eyed two Men for the entire week -- They noticed me from afar -- They were there with Their wives and families. That made me feel REALLY lonely. i don't mind alone, but i really mind lonely.

One night at sunset, the two Men were alone on beach chairs having a cocktail before dinner. It was quiet and filmic. The crystal clear water, my crystal clear disposition of feeling like a sex object -- i felt SERIOUSLY ALIVE. i did my usual ... i walked down to the beautiful water, with the beautiful light, and sashayed in Their peripheral vision. i dove in gracefully and then did my little dolphin dives, and made sure my bottom was always positioned in Their line of vision. i lingered. i was Their ballet to view in the near distance. i really wanted Them to enjoy Their cocktails and Their view -- i wanted to be the scenery, the entertainment, and a primary part of Their enjoyment. i continued splashing gently and frolicking by myself ... completely in my own little world but fully aware of Their eyes. i did that thing of coming up from underwater and then throwing my head back to let my hair drip as long as possible down my back. girls have all sorts of little moves that they master. they understand how to display pulchritude and how to communicate their ripeness.

i got out and i LOVE when i get out of the water. i walk up the white sand slowly -- again filmically -- slow motion like i'm some siren making her debut. my itty bitty bikini is just great because its a Wicked Weasel bikini -- its tinier than tiny, the thong is basically dental floss and it is see-through when wet. i also think that coming out of the water SOAKING WET DRENCHED is intensely sexy -- i actually become aroused by myself!

I dabbed myself a bit with the towel and then prepared for a fine slow walk across the beach to the Tiki Bar pier and CLICK -- engagement. Both of the Men asked if i'd like to join Them ... "no, but thanks anyway" ... how about later, after dinner? ... "we'll see ... maybe" and i gave them that winking kind of smile -- my impish sort of grin and i continued to mosey along. Slowly. With very deliberate intent. my bottom now glistened in Heaven more than from the water droplets! Their eyes were attached for the ride.

What can i say? girls will be girls and thank God for girls.

Yeah, well, they lied.

2007-04-16T17:40:00.000-07:00

22 October, 2006

Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will DESTROY me!

i thought about it the other day. Statements that were made that i can remember VERBATIM as if they were yesterday. Oh, i'm over them -- but i remember them. i'm not sure why they hurt so much. i mean, really, anyone else would have shrugged them off like lint or swatted them away like an irritating fly -- like a pest with no worth. They would have just gotten rid of the statements and dismissed them as meaningless.

React and you are giving creedence. But its so hard to NOT react! Hey, they're nobodies, they're losers, but still, they're WRONG and i've a mission to correct them if they're talking about me! i'll use honey first but i have no qualms about employing a Sadism that stretches WAY beyond a Sadist's Sadism.

i have my honor to defend ... don't i?

Try as i might to not care, i'm effected. i'd be better off laughing it off. But i think it reminds me too much of having been the designated scapegoat on a few occasions (occasions that became a way of life). There is nothing worse than being blamed for something you didn't create! Or being accused of the VERY traits owned and epitomized by an attacker. It makes me vicious actually -- intent on correcting their ill. i want to take the liars and the downpressers and MAKE them kiss themselves. THAT would be repulsive and i want them to FEEL repulsed by their repulsiveness.

Hell hath no fury like an ambassador of peace being misunderstood! my girl, Fiona, sings it perfectly in the song "Limp" -- "fondle my trigger then blame my gun". Yeah, well, i react. Sometimes i feel violent if violated -- for instance, i don't like someone stealing anything from my world (that includes my pretty vision of it). i'd rather fight than ignore. That's probably why i'm still here! i didn't succumb to the words.

Other times i tuck it away but that doesn't really work for me -- word assaults undefended become hauntings. i'd rather say something and wished i hadn't said it than say nothing and regret not saying something.

Take the simplest of negative statements -- they really have nothing to do with even the negative words. They are words buried underneath words. Innuendo is the worst of it because all i really want to do is expose the phony and make 'em 'fess up. i'd like to use electricity -- really MAKE them confess to what i see that others may not. Sarcasm -- that too -- that deserves a slow painful death and LOTS of blood.

A gun to the face is SO MUCH more honest than a coward's indirect knife to the back disguised as some esoteric humor.

Taunt me or menace me and just WATCH -- in the next breath you'll be blaming me for having called you out on your motivation to spew your putrid misery.

But that is about hateful people -- they're out there but this post is about the lighter fare. Let's just talk about the incidental -- the casual passing comments that inflict itches rather than pain. The problem is, the itches remain as a hidden rash. You learn to watch for it in the future just as you would look to avoid poison ivy. AVOID it as best you can! Try not to do anything that would allow the old rash to appear again.

"What did you do to your eyes? They look black and blue."

That was when i tried new eye-shadow and thought i had done well with the smokey effect.

"Those shoes are just like the ones the girls in the ghetto wear."

Platforms? i had just bought my first pair of sandals on lay-away, age 16 -- i thought they were all the rage!

"What costume did you wear THIS time?"

Do you mean Halloween? (No.) But wait a minute!! i thought i had a great sense of style! Flashy, sure, but quirky enough to blend sexy with arty, no? Didn't you think so?

"Oh. Nice. Nice stewardess outfit."

That was when i tried to dress with my own personal flare but more conservatively for a family event. i guess i'm really not meant to wear conservative.

Even today, if someone hurts my feelings simply through misreading me with a warped vision, i still attempt to vindicate myself AS IF i somehow erred. When will i finally see that twisted perceptions are formed through twisted minds and it has nothing to do with the subjects they condemn, but the insides they loathe in themselves?

Sticks and stones may break my bones and words will surely haunt me, but i finally learned how to block and strike and that means ......................... nothing! Words still hurt me sometimes!

Actually, i guess it really isn't so bad. Its the price you pay in order to know the other more positive side of it, that being PENETRATION. At least i have the pleasure of being receptive to penetration. i'm pliable, i'm easily hurt, i'm WIDE OPEN, and i get filled up. i know the utopia -- the place where i am putty and i FLOAT there above the world, above my self. Were i to be stone cold, nothing would enter, i'd never know the sensations i know. i'd never know the joy of pleasing another. i'd never know the inner recesses and without them, i'd be nothing but angry.

The next time they throw stones, i'll duck, i'll throw them back, and i'll walk forward ... step by step ... strong ... my eyes stronger than their will, and i will know strength in admitting hurt. They hurt others because they can't cope with their pain. i feel no pain from my scars. mine are battle scars and scars are sexy as along as they don't form hardened scar tissue.

i'll still smile while they snarl at my having figured out how to smile even through hurts deeper than their own.

my lining is just a tissue. Its filmy. It is protective but only to a degree. i still need to allow light to come in. With that come other things like undesirables ... sentiments that really try to undermine or destroy. i keep trying to tell them i'm on their side! But they are too thick and too dense and too consumed with their mass to see what i see. When you're made of an impenetrable repelling material, you resent the resilient materials ... and you'll resent someone like me.

Photograph: self portrait.

property repairs

2007-04-16T17:37:00.000-07:00

22 October, 2006

i'm pretty disappointed in myself. i'm out of breath! my stamina concerns me. i so worry that i might one day be crippled by age.

Last week, during one of my kickbox classes, i saw stars and had to excuse myself to splash cold water on my face. i really thought i was going to pass out and more than worrying about passing out, i was worried about making a scene whereby the class would have to stop and revive me. (Odd, huh? Usually i enjoy attention.)

Today i felt dizzy when Master taught me some new martial arts moves.

Now i feel so sore that i can only think i ought to be grateful that 1) i have a merciful Master and 2) i get to LEAVE Master's presence to retreat to a salve of a HOT bath for my poor aching 2nd cunt.

Master used my 2nd cunt and my mouth exclusively this weekend. No pussy use. my pussy, as a result, feels like a big open vessel with too much space and not enough containment. Its all over the place with need! my 2nd cunt feels raw. Like fissures have made it susceptible to air as an irritant. i SEE rug burns in my mind.

my eye is also bloodshot from having been globbed up with cum and although i thought i had not opened my one eye, Master's cum is apparently very strong stuff. It penetrated my eyelashes, mascara and all. God how i LOVED Master yanking my hair as if my pony-tail were just a knot of rope. i was really just a doll's face pushed into His shaft and pulled to the side like a wipe. Master used my head as a jacking off inflatable and a mop-up rag afterward.

i'm a really sad sight. i'm huffing and puffing even if just to use the keyboard to type this blog.

i'm a really disheveled sight. i'm clearly spent and i like the look because beyond the bedroom-just-laid-look, i don't care! Nothing matters after i've been used thoroughly by Master. i'm free. i'm light. i'm easy.

i'm a really happy sight. i'm almost to the point of blubbering ga-ga-goo-goo.s. i'm inebriated from exertion. i could wear a full diaper right now and not even care! i'm in Heaven. my Master used me for His pleasure. my Master cared enough to take care of me and not ruin me. my Master has decided to plant new grass seed. The weeds were plucked, the new seed was laid. i am rubble. He renovates in order to make property improvements. i'm on the road to repair. Repair began with demolition. It segued to reconstruction. It resulted in resurrection.

(Thank You, Master. Please never stop!)

a masochist's process

2007-04-16T17:32:00.000-07:00

23 October, 2006

i've gotten more accepting of it -- that being, my process of thought. There are two steps. The second counters the first. i think i was trained to think the first way and then i developed the second way to offset the first.

Step 1: Hear something, process it -- default: if its not glorifying me, it must mean i've failed! If i've failed, i either must defend my actions or apologize for them or clarify them. i must find approval! i must please! If i haven't, i beat myself up and obsess on how to make amends, how to find accord -- how to get the ego food that keeps me from destroying myself.

Example: last week, Master said something to the effect of, "Yes, you will have plenty of time with Me this weekend. Although, I am always disappointed that it is not enough. That cage awaits you and it is always a sad sight to see it empty."

i didn't get past the alarms, "always disappointed". That is ALL i saw! Immediately i thought it was to say that i am never satisfied -- that i am greedy, always wanting more -- that i am disappointing my Master by being insatiable. The words, "not enough" latched onto "always disappointed". my first reaction was to say, "wait a minute Master -- but aren't there good things about Your slave being insatiable?!". The masochist jumps to thinking the worst of herself. Read again, little girl. Read again. Then she re-read the words through Master's eyes rather than masochistic eyes and it took on an entirely different meaning.

Masochistic thinking means taking everything out of context and looking, often subconsciously, for reasons to verify that you are inferior or inadequate. When you are not doing that, you are looking for statements to bolster you. you basically just go through life, day to day, waiting for people to tell you if you have value. Self worth can be slammed and shattered easily just as it can be based on cheap expressions from strangers. A compliment means you're great, a beratement means you are nothing.

Now, here is the little thing i developed in myself in order to survive such distorted thinking!

Step 2: Look for SOMETHING -- one little spec of something -- ANYTHING on which to find merit in another's argument. If i can do that, i don't have to feel so intent on proving myself. If i can see that i DID err in some way, then i don't have to be on my mission to ... defend, apologize, clarify. i can better let it go.

NOW, what did i learn about this? Step 2 is ALSO the process of a masochist! Hey -- let's make sure the enemy IS right so i can let go of what feels like an injustice! Better to blame myself than another. Its easier that way. Self-flagellation. Its weird. But i feel better now in understanding that even my remedies and cures are steeped in masochism. Maybe i can now better accept that term? It used to have a creepy connotation. Masochists love pain. But i don't like certain kinds of pain! But, wait a minute!! Look at what i'm doing now?! Defending, apologizing, clarifying.

Training the Impressionable

2007-04-16T17:06:00.000-07:00

14 November, 2006

"Impressionable. That's what you are."

"Impressionable. Though near and far."

Or is that "Forgettable"? What's that Nat King Cole song?

Well, whatever.

Today i decided that i'm VERY impressionable. Tonight it is pouring rain and i love it. i have the window open and it sounds like hail. All i can think is GREAT -- just wait until i have my big boobs! WHAT will it feel like then? Then, when i have my big boobs to keep me warm -- how much MORE cozy and tidy in myself will i feel?

i drive in the car, soak in the tub, walk over to the I.T. guys' office at work ... all the while wondering what it will feel like next week when i have my big boobs. That shelf. That cleavage! That pulchritude spilling out over the top and into their faces, into my hands.

i'm going to be shy about it at work. At first anyway. i'll have to ease them into it. Gradually. Gradually i'll introduce my new breasts so that one day they'll all just happen to take a double take and say, "hmm -- how do ya like that? i never realized she had such a great rack".

The thing that gets me is that although i already know i sublimate myself into anOther, i just cannot believe the drama! Raggamuffin to Beauty Queen! (i wasn't a raggamuffin really, but Master's transformation of me FEELS that pronounced! )

Here i was, age 14, having purchased one of those back of the magazine breast enlargement gimmicks with my friend -- we split the cost with our minimum wage underage working pay to fund the thing and then traded it off to each other back and forth for a whole whopping one week. It looked like the Suzanne Somers thigh-master contraption and was tossed in the trash just as readily. (And gee, that's funny -- i remember Suzanne Somers for the failed thigh-master as opposed to the successful bust. Why didn't she just make the most of what she had? Let's not ask! Never mind! That goes completely against the gist of my post! )

Then i let it go for my entire life until now ... the Big Breast Quest ... all the while still lusting for big tits to ogle and suckle and FONDLE to the point of MOLESTATION ... and now here i am, about to be fully endowed!

And THAT is when it hits me. Suddenly i don't even feel attractive! Here i usually feel fairly sexy or VERY sexy, rarely not sexy ... and yet here i am feeling dowdy. i actually think i'm hunching my shoulders. (BAD sign. Any girl hunching her shoulders should be scolded and corrected immediately! )

In four days i'm likely to feel a pain i won't enjoy.
In five days i'll feel pain but hopefully a worthwhile pain.
In six days, i'll begin to wonder.
In seven days, i'm going to promise to write a blog about what i'm feeling!

my life is about to change.
Again.

i'm impressionable. Though near and far. i wanted it then but i resigned myself to God's making until now. i figure that God's making is what you want to make of yourself. If i'm dying to masturbate with big tits all the time, why NOT? Why wait for another life that may not come, why wonder when you can know?

Master says that my being impressionable is about wanting to be trained THAT BADLY. All i know is that planting a seed results in a gigantic tree. Master said he wanted me with big tits and i now want gargantuan tits. ------------------ Oh! NOW i know!! i know now! Is that song called, "Obsessionable"? Though near and far?

Obsessionable.
In every way,
And forever more
That's how you'll stay.

And actually, that must be the song! Why, look at the picture of Nat King Cole! i think its a good omen! Its a sign that something is in line with His hands, positioned as they are, and that something is the fruit of my obsession planted by the seed of my Master.

17 INCHES ------------- YOWZA !!

2007-04-16T17:05:00.001-07:00

EXCITEMENT!! 17 inches!! PRECIOUS!!

Meet Thumbelina, the world's smallest horse
by ARTHUR MARTIN Last updated at 22:29pm on 8th October 2006

Thumbelina

Littlest pony: Thumbelina.

Standing just 17 inches tall, she is never going to be a champion show-jumper.

In fact, the tiny mare is so small she would struggle to leap over a bucket.

But such things are of little concern for feisty Thumbelina who has just been officially recognised as the world's smallest horse.

The five-year-old received the title from the Guinness Book of Records after her astonished owners realised she was never going to grow any bigger.

She was born on a farm in

America

to a couple who specialise in breeding miniature horses.

These popular show horses usually weigh about 250lb and reach a height of 34 inches when they are fully grown.

But when Thumbelina was born, it was immediately clear she would never grow to this size.

At birth she weighed 8lb - the weight of many new-born babies - and eventually she grew to a mere 60lb.

Thumbelina's extraordinary size has been put down to dwarfism, which makes her a miniature of a miniature.

But despite this massive difference in size, it is feisty Thumbelina who rules the roost over the stallions and racehorses on her 150-acre farm.

Ahh -- topping from the bottom, a? ~wink~ So CUTE!!

How to cure a headache, a bleeding heart & a gaping open hole!

2007-04-16T17:05:00.000-07:00

14 November, 2006

There i was with a headache. i was nauseous. i'm sure you all know where this is going, right? ~wink~

Well, its true. It cures lots of ailments. Headaches, heart-aches, pussy-aches. Triple H Strength -- head/heart/hole. It relieves stress. It relaxes, it energizes. i'm convinced that sex is the best medicine, but use (as opposed to just sex) is holistic medicine -- it requires no chemicals, just natural biology of the organic homeopathic variety. Cure pain with pain, cure a past of humiliation with humiliation, cure the victimization of being demeaned with demeaning assaults. Cured!

In all cases, a big fat hot penis is the probe. Shove it in its sleeve -- voila! Functionality. Use. Ease of use. Cure!

Master was getting ready to leave. It was the end of O/our weekend. There was basketball, monopoly, my little show & tell show, sushi of the sort you've NEVER HAD IN YOUR LIFE (unless you've been to New York, sorry Tokyo), sleeping in my collar of course and resting at Master's feet ... but the time had come for O/our romantic goodbye.

Master said He needed to use a hole. i had that dreadful headache. i can't be honest and say, well, i felt rotten but i obliged. Nope. i didn't just oblige Him ... nor did i comply, nor did i obey. i JUMPED at the opportunity.

This is O/our love-making! This is O/our time. i need to be His slave.

Master walked me upstairs and instructed me to take Him out and suck on Him. Master began to open me up -- my second-cunt again. That is all He's been using lately. This time it was uncomfortable. He just reached inside and i could have sworn it was His entire hand. He narrated the insertion. He told me when each knuckle had passed through the opening. He then pulled His fingers out, lubed up His cock and directed me to lie on my tummy.

It was very medical. Very methodical. What could be more arousing? i'm CRAZY for this type of use!

All i know is that when i then see that cock in that position, it makes me SICK EXCITED!!!!!!!! i become a dog -- i slobber and i writhe around with not a single concern of how unladylike i've become. Master's cock is never aiming straight up vertical like some eager boy. His is ALL Man. It has that engorged FULL HEAVY appearance and all i can ever think is good God, THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!! And PLEASE. Thank You and please, PLEASE F. mE!!!!!!!!!!!!! i want it THAT badly and i want to feel HIM that badly. i don't want to just be f-ed, i want to feel THAT cock doing what THAT Man knows how to do.

His cock just always looks ready to take. Its got that heft to it -- that weight that means it sways like a pendulum. Its VERY mature like its been growing all its life. Its full with blood just the way my pussy is ripe with womanliness. But now my second cunt is the primary pussy. i have become the ultimate anal whore -- that's because its not even anal anymore. Its convention!

Master did allow me a taste of pussy f-ing though ... He gave me just but a taste of the hard pumping in a classic missionary position which for some reason feels VERY taboo. i do know He did this for me -- it was a treat -- He knows how desperate i am for being f-ed that way again and how much i LOVE being able to look directly at Him when He's using me.

i am menstruating and for some reason, there is more bright red blood than usual. He pumped the hole and it was to HEAR it rather than feel it. It was sloppy. i guess you could say He wasn't healing a bleeding heart this time, He was healing a bleeding hole. He pulled out and had me clean Him and i must confess, i grimaced a little. i felt my chin crinkling up as i neared His bloody cock ... but i do it for Him. i do this for Him. i lick Him clean because He loves the blood smeared all over my face.

One day i suppose it would be nice to have some really low slave, more lowly than me, around for the purpose of ONLY use. W/we could rub menstrual blood into her cheeks like rouge and darken her lips in that way that used to be all the rage: "stained". "Hey Cosmo girls, have you tried the berry stain yet? Well, shouldn't you?" she'd be a disgrace and she'd have to show everyone her make-up. W/we'd be proud of her though -- that's that beautiful irony again -- W/we'd know her to be beautiful for subjecting herself to such degradation.

Only if you've ever felt exhilaration can you understand the appreciation involved! Mountaineers UNDERSTAND mountaineers whereas no one else on the planet can understand why a person would suffer frost bite, starvation, and near-death suffering! W/we'd appreciate the lowly little thing, though. W/we'd love making her apply her own menstrual make-up herself, too!

Yes, well, i'm a little sick. i can get really sick! ~impish giggles~

~~~ + ~~~

Thankfully i found my match. Master is sick AND dangerous. (Just like we like it. ~wink~) Master took His one entire hand to press down on my face and i LOVE the disregard of the gesture. His entire palm covered my little face -- the little face that felt sultry to the point of cheap porn and upping the contrast so that i became a picture of explicit graphic design rather than an artful photograph. i could swear that my lips were glistening a slick wet pout, that my eyelashes were weighted with lust to the point that they were encased in lead and half closed. With that initial plunge of His shaft all the way into my rectum, "filthy-slut" instantly became my stage name. my ID was registered!

i cannot get dirty enough! i cannot open up deeply enough! i want to feel Him ripping through my core so that i basically just dangle like meat on a spit. His meat on His spit. Oh will the juices flow then!

He pumped me. Master pumped me. He f-ed me until i convulsed ... time and time again. All the while, He steadied Himself by pushing my face down into the mattress. He removed me! He removed me from myself and removed me from Him. i got to be my favorite thing to be. A receptacle. He removed my face so that only my hole was of use and He used it no differently than the way He f.s my front hole -- with a vengeance and with no intention of stopping.

Oh i know that i would be remiss in not mentioning that i think i had four orgasms. Or five. i just don't really know. Master likes knowing this sort of stuff whereas all i wish to know is that i made love to my Master. Sure, He is the one doing something to me -- i should probably say He made love to me. But you see, its my perverted little mind that compliments His. W/we're both demented! He f.s me savagely, i love Him savagely.

There on my side ... my head in a vice, Master had turned me to use me in that other way. That's when it feels like the soothing of bedtime -- when i get to be tucked in and tucked under His arm safely. That's when i want to breath deeply the moment.

Reflecting turns to present tense ... i do this all the time ... i recount it and then i live it again ...

Master turns me on my side and sidles up behind me. i do everything possible to have every single bit of surface area of my skin touch His. i reach my cheek out like a cat marking a leg, i rub my head against His neck and His strong arms. i purr and coo and grunt, i intertwine each limb in His.

i breathe. i savor every single slight touch or brushing of the flesh. Master yanks back on my head or my hair or my throat and my chin juts forward allowing me to arch my back and feel more prone. my cunt swoons. my second-cunt mimics the front one. GOD how i am crazy for His turning me inside out. i would like to be splayed out like this in public so that all the world could see that Master tore away my layers -- that He exposed EVERYTHING and marked this territory as His own.

The headache was gone. i was used. i was relieved. The head of His cock pushed all the way to the very back where that ridge rubs the border of rectum and g-spot. These are neighboring countries! They share the border! He penetrates deeply. He moves in FURTHER. i can feel every nuance. i can FEEL the shiny smooth head and that ridge ------------ GOD how i am CRAZY when i can feel the definition of His head atop the shaft! i LOVE that indentation especially when i feel it wedged way up there in my bowels.

There are cannons in there ... there at the border -- explosions! ... and cures that only the medicine Man can bring. He's a tactical agent ... He's all over me and i'm climbing the walls until He can climb on top of me again and make me whole ... no headache, no heartache, only big wide open gaping holes plugged up and oozing that magic medicine ... the liquid medicine and the gassy ethers that lull me into surrender. i'm all His. He claimed me, i'm His.

Headaches, heartache, gaping wide open holes ... who knew? They're all mended. i'm cured.

BANG-BANG -- Bangin' 'em BIG Time

2007-04-16T17:03:00.000-07:00

16 November, 2006 (day before surgery)

i was hoping to go out on a bang, loving bangs as i do -- gangbangs, Master's BIG BANG, and the fact that Gwyneth, Mena, and Penelope ALL look better with bangs.

i wanted to just write up my little "how to cure a headache" post and leave it there to linger and waft around -- there's nothing like leaving people with your best signature when you think you'll be out of touch for awhile. Its nice to know someone will wear your essence when you're out of sight -- the RIGHT essence of you -- the one you like best about yourself. God forbid they remember your sweat when you want them remembering your musk!

But here i am to say GOD i was up all night starting at 2am. i have serious anxiety! i feel depressed from the wine i drank last night thinking it would relax me. i'm sore from that serious leg workout i did yesterday thinking it would be a good send off for the six weeks i'll need to stay out of the gym.

But, i did get my house neat and tidy. Everyone will be fed. Everyone's schedule is outlined meticulously ... and oh, that's right! We're out of cat food! One more errand, OH! And he lost his collar! Make that two more errands -- i'll need to get his little ID tag made up, too. You CANNOT ignore a collared animal without a collar! Imagine it! i'd be lost before even getting lost!

i'm scared and i'm excited ... i'm full with nervous energy and i think my anxiety is more about the fact that Master will have to play mommy. THAT scares me! i like the concept of "let's just get this over with" -- i want to fast forward to next week. i saw the doctor on Tuesday and i asked a few questions and almost started crying! Wow do i crumble when anxious.

my cat knows. He climbed up on my back this morning and OH how i LOVE his paws and his purr. Wow do i love sleeping on my tummy! i'll figure it out ... when there is a will, there is a way.

And wow do i LOVE pics of breast suspension and those rope bondage bras and SEVERE tit torture. i'll figure it out ... when there is a will, there is a way. Besides, there's always nipple torture and there are always other girls whose giant tits W/we can torment with exacting EXCRUCIATING evil and depravity!

i wish i were not writing this post. i am afraid to see Master!

i'm also deep breathing!

i don't understand the radio. i don't understand waking up to my music alarm to have to hear absolutely mindless music like the newest top ten that is one single line repeated the whole time "all she wants is another baby" and the music itself sounds like a Casio programmed tune. Its weird! i don't live here! Where am i?

Well, at least i figured out another travel destination for my list. i have no desire to see China but i MUST climb the Great Wall! i MUST!

Okay. Get a grip, little girl. Nothing has changed. Master is still here. you are starting to panic.

Okay and your candles arrived on time, didn't they? That's a good thing. i've got the Havana downstairs and the Madagascar in my bedroom -- scents ... i LOVE scents! Aromatherapy and Master's. And my own! Maybe that's what i ought to do -- do my usual. Wedge my fingers in between my lips and then between my cheeks. Maybe that will calm me down.

Okay, and so the Marc Anthony cd isn't all i hoped it to be. They said it was His best! But at least it arrived and its something new to listen to and well, i NEEDED TO KNOW! But that song isn't on this one, darnit!

Maybe i ought to go run even though i'm not one for running. Kickbox? DARE i do my kickboxing TODAY? Today before tomorrow? Decisions! SOS!

i think i'm out of sorts because i don't want Master to see me without my make-up on. That must be it.

Illustration by (my genius hero! or rather my 2nd genius hero!) Simon Benson.

Yet another good reason to be owned by a Master ...

2007-04-16T17:00:00.000-07:00

17 November, 2006

my fears are now allayed.
my anxiety has been put to rest.
i was put to bed by Master last night.

Sleeping with Master makes me happy, peaceful, ... and HORNY (or rather, hornier ~wink~).

A few words from Master

2007-04-16T16:59:00.000-07:00

20 November, 2006

I own a world-class slave. Truly. she revels in her submission. she responds to My touch, My desires, My commands and suffers terribly if she can't satiate My every need. But she always does, even when she thinks she hasn't.

Now I have pushed her further than ever before. she has completed another step in her transformation. And she has accomplished her task in her usual regal style.

My baby underwent surgery last Friday. And let Me just say the results are stunning. she was always a beautiful little girl, but now she has a figure that would make a Playboy bunny melt with jealousy.

she has been in bed the last couple of days recouperating, so she has not been able to get to her blogs. I know how much she treasures many of the relationships she has formed here on Alt.

I just want all of you to know that My beautiful slave is doing well and that you will hear from her soon.

I would like to extend My gratitude to all of you who are her friends and support her through your correspondences.

There's a reason ...

2007-04-16T16:58:00.000-07:00

21 November, 2006

HOLY COW!!!!!!!!!!!!! That's how i'll start my blog about the breast implants. Apropos, right? Let's all moo for big udders! ~wink~ i can't wait to write one of my usual sap-fests but for now, i'm a little limited. i'd also like to address each of Y/you who expressed support but for now, i'm a little limited. SEE?? LIMITS inhibit a person! (Take note slaves. ~wink~)

Just a few little anecdotes for now ...

There's a reason that they don't tell you about the pain.

Its like childbirth. They don't go into too much detail about the think-yer-gonna-die excruciations of labor and birth because they're too busy honoring the outcome. Kids! Look at all the little rewards running rampant all over the planet -- you don't hear a single mother cooing over her newborn, not even berating her teenager, while tagging on some memory of the pain in delivering the blessing. The pain is forgotten. We're all proclaiming the fruit (whether it be delectable, ripe or rotten).

Its just like these big boobs! They're flip-floppin' all over the planet, bouncing around in everyone's face -- they're dancing while everyone sings their praises and we're all too preoccupied with the big-fun results to take note of the pain in obtaining them.

All i kept thinking during the first two days of agony is, "if i'm going through all this, they just better be big enough!". Think of the disappointment if submitting to all this only to find out i'll be modest? i'm happy to report, from what i can see so far, i did push the envelope! i wanted big so that it meant correct proportion but then PUSHING it a bit over the edge -- i really like the idea of leaving an impression that says,, "oh, nice, but she's actually a bit top heavy". i was after a ROBUST plumage, not just pretty colours. Think: PRONOUNCED hourglass! An abstract, or SURREAL cello! Dali's extreme melting whereby curves are dripping rather than just moving. Like everything else, if i'm going to do something in life, i'm going to attempt to do it MORE than 100%.

Okay, well, today is the unveiling! my bandages and the tape will be removed. Thank goodness -- this semi-rig is constriction on par with a Boa and i can hardly breathe. (Details in another blog in the coming days.)

There's a reason i don't watch television.

i've been in bed most of the time. i've been given the clicker. i've landed on Food Network's Top Chef and i've now seen about 28 episodes. That's okay but then i was reminded WHY i don't watch t.v.

i tried the news. Fox, CNN, and the local news. God, how can ANYONE stand watching the news? There isn't one bit of good news anywhere! Dead babies, raped and beaten children, dead wives and girlfriends, sexual molestation of an 80 year old woman, drive-by shootings, drunk driving murders, the vile representative of scum, OJ Simpson getting ANY air time at all !!, plummeting schoolbuses, plummeting stocks, Iraq/Iraq, Iraq/Iraq (didn't Stevie Wonder make mention of this 33 years ago in the prelude of "Don't You Worry 'Bout a Thing" ? Oh -- that was "Iraq/IRAN, ... Paris, Peru, ..." ), tragedy, despair, ... its one reminder after another of WHY watching the news too often can give you the wrong idea about life.

i tried some lighter fare.

Tyra Banks (really unattractive but for her body) had Janet Jackson on her show as a guest. She told the audience to stay tuned because after the commercial break, she was going to ask Janet a question that no one else has EVER asked her before! The question? Get ready -- its pretty provocative. A first! She wanted to know what Janet would do if she were to "fart" in a room (and she proceeded to describe the event -- she didn't even say "passing gas" -- she actually said "fart" and elaborated with adjectives) and would she confess to having done it or would she deny it. Wow, Tyra -- you are too profound for us, girlfriend! -- you and your jive self!

i went back to the Food Network for Top Chef, episode 29.

There's a reason ...

There's a reason i'm writing this blog while standing rather than sitting. (Arm movement is limited right now -- darn those limits again! See how they IMPEDE?!! ) There's a reason i love writing blogs. There's a reason i'm in love with my Master. There's a reason i'm happy despite the current SERIOUS pain! There's a reason i'm in love with life. There's a reason i'm smiling. i think it has to do with Master making me two lobster dinners in a row even though i wasn't wearing make-up. Well, either that or being grateful that i am nothing like Tyra Banks ... aside from having big boobs. ~big smile verging on impish grin~

Day 6 with my NEW BIG BOOBS !!

2007-04-16T16:57:00.000-07:00

22 November, 2006

i don't know how women can go back to work after only 5 days! Its beyond me. i may as well be shuffling along in a full body cast. my ribs and shoulder blades are even killing me now. i can't drive and i'm light headed after a little exertion. Yesterday i had a driver! It reminded me of The Driver and Miss Daisy (or whatever its called) although i'm not Daisy, i don't feel bright and springy like a Daisy, i'm not rich and i'm not old and my driver was not a chauffeur but instead the same cab driver who brought me medicine and soup the day before. He brought me my favorite butternut squash soup from my favorite soup shop in town, twenty dollars later. i drank the entire quart through a straw! Some things are worth their price.

Like these boobs! Wow, i'm still in a stupor.

Maybe its that i went big and i'm so little. The doctor did say that although i'm not technically petite, i am little. i know what he means. i'm not tiny-tiny, but i am tiny. my long limbs mean i'm not consistently petite.

Okay -- that was yesterday -- Day 5. Once the doctor told me that i should stop worrying about ripping apart stitches and that i should move around, i stopped fretting about every aching move. Afterall, my muscles have been THROBBING and DYING for release! You could say i've had blue balls! Now that i am stretching my muscles, it is helping. Gosh, even my shoulders feel more weight than they used to -- before it was metaphorical, now its LITERAL! God i need RELEASE from the pain!

~~~ + ~~~

Okay, so i moved around more. Last night was the first night without painkillers. i'm in PAIN! i probably did too much after the doctor told me i should start moving around. i took this to mean i could clean my house. i'm nauseous! i've got a splitting headache! my shoulders, my back, my ribs!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sleeping on my side is impossible. The weight of these tits is MASSIVE! It reminds me of nursing -- its like these things are filling up with milk to the point that they might burst! i don't know whether to wear a bra or not! i want the freedom but the freedom is HEAVY!

Master gave me the privilege of unlimited orgasms through Wednesday (today). Since the doctor said i could now move around more and stretch the pained muscles, i decided that upon going to bed last night, i'd try out an orgasm.

i reached my fingers to my twat -- twitching arm muscles and all. i came in less than three minutes. Thank God (or rather, Master) for all that orgasm control over the past two years! It used to be that it would take me 30 minutes minimum to orgasm and that's because i was masturbating every 30 minutes!

The three minute orgasm was GRAND but now i know for sure that my clit is attached to my nipples. Right upon climax, a piercing pain shot through my nipples and it remained as a repeated stabbing needle like that of a sewing machine! i saw in my mind, one of those delicate little chains with clamps -- it formed a triangle -- one nipple to the other nipple to the clit and back to the nipple again. So much for privileges -- i'm not going to have any more orgasms until i am fully recuperated!

~~~ + ~~~

They gave me some panties on the day of the operation. The nurse said they were for privacy. (Who cares about privacy under the circumstances?!) Master and i both agreed that for surgical issue panties, they weren't bad. W/we expected granny briefs but instead, they were silky pale blue bikinis.

i guess they were okay enough because i wore them for 5 days straight! i couldn't help it. Sometimes being a slob has its merit. my hair was unkempt, my pussy was wafting a sweet pungency. Master said it would be wise to take a washcloth to my twat before going to the doctor's office yesterday which i did end up doing. Had i not, i'm certain the dogs would have broken out of the pound to find me through scent alone.

i myself am a dog! i can't help it -- the scent is intoxicating. i could sniff my way through anything. i can find my way all around Master's body by scent. i'd be perfectly content to nuzzle up under His armpit or at His groin right between the ball sack and His muscular thighs. i often wedge my nose up there just to take a nap. i love His scent, my scent, scented candles, the smell of rain and chimney smoke hitting cool air. A delicate fragrance, a heavy odor -- i'm your olfactory girl!

i took off the panties and rather than throwing them in the wash, i folded them up into a neat little square and placed them at my vanity. i want to show Master! i may even save them this way for posterity! The scent is strong but it is delicious as in a toxic sweet! i could put this to my nose just as i might put a blindfold to my eyes and i'd sleep a sound slumber from the sensory caresses.

i'm completely off track here! Point is, i did finally take off the panties.

As to more of the slob thing -- well, i had saltine cracker crumbs littering my bed and the floor. i didn't care! i had either been nibbling at them and dropping crumbs like a squirrel with a nut or i had been crushing them against my lips like a hungry drunkard. In each case, i appeared to have cracker crumb dandruff on the large zip up top of 5 days. i didn't much care! i still felt pretty.

What does get me though, EVERY SINGLE TIME, is aesthetics. At least if the crumbs are consistent -- at least if they are the only thing scattered, i can accept them. For instance, i had my two favorite little people scurrying around to align piles of paper and mail and magazines. At least if the piles of stuff everywhere LOOKED perpendicular or parallel and tidy, i wouldn't feel so off-kilter or out of control. At least if disarray looks deliberate and arranged in a pleasing composition (like the dirty dishes contained to ONE sink rather than two or the conglomeration of pillows in one lofty still-life per room), i'll sink into it all rather than cringe.

So i let go ......................... and i drifted through Days 1, 2, 3, and 4. The painkillers helped.

~~~ + ~~~

Funny things feel soothing. Having people wait on me is welcome. The sound of motorcycles and skateboards tearing up my property sounds like a lullaby. i'm relaxed. i'm at home. All i kept thinking was ... i'm at home, i'm at home, i'm with the people who mean THE MOST to me ... i'm in love, i'm at home, i NOW HAVE BIG TITS AND i CAN'T WAIT TO HIT THE BEACH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

my cat was CONSTANTLY at my feet keeping me warm. i think this must be how Master relates to me! my cat is a good cuddly affectionate KNOWING slave. Last night when i was so out of sorts and unable to sleep, my cat moved from my ankles to my knees. He came closer but at a respectful distance -- he didn't want to be presumptuous, i suppose, but he wanted me to know he was there and that he would stay there. i LOVE this cat's mentality! We're kin!

~~~ + ~~~

i can't wait to write about Day 1 ! i told my doctor that not only am i thrilled with everything (but for the feeling ill and immobile and fat due to eating and not working out), but that i am equally happy with the experience itself. i'd like to write personal thank you notes to the staff! i told him that the experience itself will be a memory to add to my collection box. It is another keepsake. i almost cried when relating this to him!

i can't wait to write about Day 1 because it is romantic. i can't wait to articulate all the idiosyncrasy that finally now is an accepted trait, a welcome and most perfect flaw. i can't believe that i'm loving myself even without wearing make-up! i think its because i feel Master's pride in me and that makes a complexion glow ... even more than my Chanel Double Perfection matte reflecting foundation. ~wink~

Something for your Pumpkin Pie ...

2007-04-16T16:55:00.000-07:00

23 November, 2006

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Once again, ALL i KNOW ... ( my 829th post about ANAL use !! )

2007-04-16T16:54:00.001-07:00

25 November, 2006

Once again, ALL i know is that i LOVE the way Master handles me. Here i go through such trials and reports -- i think i come to some magnificent conclusion about why i love being Master's slave, and then there are these moments when the entire thesis is erased!

You could elaborate on every angle of every nuance of every association and still, sometimes a biological simplicity requires no explanation, no research, no analysis.

i come to this place, as i did yesterday morning, whereby i know ONLY ONE SINGLE sensation. It is so singular, so only emotional. Its SO SENSUAL. This morning, i said to myself, "i LOVE the WAY Master uses me". i know, i know -- i think i must probably say this everyday and have said it everyday for over 2 1/2 years! But, feeling used is INSANELY arousing! Here i write about it all the time and yet i feel like i just discovered the sensation for the very first time!

~~~ + ~~~

The day before yesterday, when Master arrived for the Thanksgiving weekend, He first saw me and assessed my new big breasts. i think He loves them more than i do! In fact, you'd think He was the one with the new big boobs ------------ and well, He is! They do belong to Him, afterall. He bought them and interestingly, sometimes i have even thought its no different from Him having purchased a new toy. Oh will W/we have fun! Dildos, the cupping set, clamps, baby's new big TITS! Alright! (This reminds me that i'll have to learn that cleavage f-ing thing.)

Master led me to the bathroom mirror so that W/we could look at the new big tits together. He bent me over the bathroom sink and told me that He needs to use my a-hole. (That is not a word that i ever use (a-hole) -- Master said it and for some reason, i LOVE that He said it THAT way THIS time.)

He did that thing that is and will always make me CRAZY WILD MANIACAL and that is, He inserted fingers, one at a time and opened up my 2nd-cunt. i know it fully -- i am an anal whore and i can't help it. i LOVE the methodical preparation! It is the most beautiful thing in the world when Master uses me anally because part of me wants to reject it. Its that odd segue back and forth between debauchery and love-making. The severity makes me affectionate, the sodomy makes me fall deeper in love with Him, the person, the Master.

Meanwhile, i had pretty much relegated my condition after surgery to temporary non-use but i was wrong. Master wanted to use a hole and i would naturally, oblige. i love that i have that privilege! i'm a chosen one! To be the one to take care of His cock -- my Lord, it is the best position a woman could ever hope for. Take care of a Man's cock and you are close.

Master brought me to the bed and He was gentle but matter-of-fact and that, of course, gets me everytime. He knew my arms were regaining strength so He did not hammer into me as per the usual -- instead, He entered and there is only one word to describe it:

Penetration.

Not all capital letters, not even a single exclamation point.

Sheer, PURE, unadulterated penetration.

Penetration.

P e n e t r a t i o n .

Say it with as little drama as possible and then you will know the ethereal quality of penetration to which i'm referring.

God, i could say that word over and over again and i'm still repeatedly transported to the Heavens as if its my first trip.

He leaned over and His mouth was right at my ear. He told me all sorts of things and He humped me. He was a dog. i was a dog. The humping was canine! CARNAL biology! What animals are supposed to do -- the Male is supposed to take down the female in order to plant sperm. Its supposed to hurt. she's supposed to let out moans when He bites her neck to hold her steady. And meanwhile, THAT means it never hurts! It only feels like something i was born to feel and something i looked for for an entire life-time to find.

i begged Master to not let me come! i cannot yet bear the tensing of my body that way -- i'm a lunatic, remember? When i come, i break chains! i have! i really have! i could not bear any convulsions and so, i pleaded ... and Master went easy on me. i am His slave but i am also His little baby girl.

Master always uses me when He comes to bed at night. i am always in bed before Him -- He tucks me in and kisses me goodnight. i know that my Prince will come! And oh does He! Oh how i love that Master has His time with me for purely His own pleasure ................ i love how He will move me into position and use my holes no matter if i'm asleep or not -- it is beyond romantic to be used as just a masturbation device.

Currently, i'm still sleeping on my back. i can't sleep on my side at all yet. Master commented as if commenting just to Himself but aloud, "how am I going to use your a-hole"? Usually, Master turns me on my side and enters from behind in these after-midnight interludes. GOD i never thought in a million years i would LOVE anything remotely related to the word "routine"! GOD how i LOVE that a particular comfort has been established and cultivated and has become something to expect as if by rote.

Yesterday morning, i awakened next to my Master and that thesis -- the one now erased -- the one with all my understandings as to how i arrived here -- was replaced by elementary wonder. Maybe that happens? Maybe once you've just figured everything out, God comes along to zap it out of you so that you can experience the epiphany all over again? All i know is that i was writhing around JUST from the sound of Master's breath ... just from the feel of His thigh draped over mine ... just from His warm hard cock in the palm of my hand ....................... i had only that one thing on my mind. The magic -- the amazement at how nothing really matters when you are caught up in something intensely moving. Waking up to Master is intensely moving! Being f-ed by Master is intensely moving! Being near Master is intensely moving!

How is it so? i asked myself to concentrate on the ONE single thought ............. that one single component that symbolizes EVERYTHING i love, whether i am Master's little girl, His pet, His service-only-slave, His whore ... i love it ALL and it all comes down to that ONE single thought ...............

ALL i know is that when Master uses my 2nd cunt JUST because His penis needs to f. a hole, i am the slave i love to be. When i am with this privilege of JUST being His property, i feel more special than i have ever felt before in my life!

~~~ + ~~~

Master put me to bed last night and He pumped my 2nd cunt for awhile before kissing me on the forehead, before allowing me to kiss Him, and before tucking me in for the night. He used it in the missionary position. Later at 2am, i awakened the moment He opened the door to come to bed. There was no discussion and only His instruction to go back to sleep. He was going to masturbate. He screwed my rectum for a very long time and ALL i felt was that sensation -- that ONE SINGULAR sensation. Use integrated with being in love and being in love partly BECAUSE He uses me in JUST the way i love being used! ~wink~

Master raised my thigh up high enough so that He could enter the back hole sideways while i remained on my back. W/we were detached while connected -- this emphasizes the delirium for me! He's using me! He's using me! i'm not here! i'm not even a part of this! He is JUST using my 2nd cunt and that is my purpose. i am MAD OUT OF mY MIND for having that purpose!

i am Master's very own personal receptacle. It is everything i love to be! It is to rise in status as a slave -- i have the position with a very important function. i am Master's regular cum-dump. His repository whether He is cumming, spitting or pissing and i love every subtle nuance of being with such prominence. If you can manage to BE in that position of tending to a Man's cock on a regular basis -- of being your Master's dick-servant -- a sort of slave to His cock, you actually are more fortunate than anyone else. Its exactly the reason Men keep sluts around even if they're not girl-friend material. i am so lucky! i am Master's TRAVELING COMPANION cum-dump and not just a service-station! i get to tend to Him ALL the time! i get to be everything all rolled into one and i contemplated my joy in this ...

... could i ever be as happy with just one identity as Master's slave? Could i, for instance, just be an anal whore? Just be a caged piece of f.meat? A masochist only, a servant only, a little girl only? No. i am whatever Master wants me to be whenever He wants me to be it and that's the beauty of being a receptacle -- my luxury is that of being open and accommodating.

Once again, ALL i know is that i fall deeper and deeper in love -- Master's use of my 2nd-cunt not being impeded due to surgery 8 days ago means i have remained being a masturbation object for Him in the middle of the night. ALL i know is that for whatever reason, THAT makes me more in love, more connected, and more secure in the world all around me.

Photograph from sexylabia.com.

The Hand That Feeds

2007-03-29T18:34:00.000-07:00

26 November, 2006

i relaxed in the bathtub the morning of the surgery. Master sat there with me. i contemplated. i meditated (even though i don't meditate). i cried! Master said i really am the little girl.

Previously, i looked in the mirror -- i placed my hands out in front of me as if to assess two large honeydews, one in each hand. i had been doing this for weeks! i eyed my hips -- the hips that are designed for swaying and giving birth and as handles for serious HARD ROUGH f-ing.

Its kind of nice that i got to learn about life pre-big boobs. Just ask the girls with naturally big boobs -- they want to be seen for their insides FIRST. They tire of all those divergent, clumsy-and-rarely-discreet eyes. All girls want to be noticed for their persona -- the difference here is that i proved to myself already that my insides are big attractive mahatmas! NOW i'll get to savor all the looks from the curious ones and the admirers -- the stares and the darting eyes that attempt to stay focused on mine while my cleavage steers them into the cavern! There will also be the predators, competitors, and deviants and i will just love it all!

my insides will now be the dessert since i've already known my soul as the main course meal. i'll now know big boobs as a fun peripheral rather than as an obstruction to the satiated desire of being known and seen for talent and wits. When you're born buxom, you crave to be seen without it. When you're born without it, you crave it for exactly the reason the naturally endowed don't want it.

And still ...

There i was in the bathtub ... the morning of surgery ...

Master reminded me how i am a pretty girl and how now i'll be prettier. He enumerated my physical attributes and it reminded me of the card i sent Him a few weeks ago. The illustration shows a woman looking up to a Man and her think caption reads, "my hero" while His reads, "nice body".

i love gender differences! THAT should have been my major! Gender Studies.

Master told me that now i'll be even better ... even hotter ... that i've got a nice compactness, a perfect heart-shaped bottom, the little waist, the nice rocking hips, and that this now will make me a luscious hour-glass. i'll be the epitome of woman, inciting drools, provoking envy.

And still, i apologized and asked if i could fish. He allowed it, but only after first offering up the fish to the bait. "Yes, little girl, you are the BEST f. of My life, the most beautiful, the most devoted slave, the smartest, the quickest, the most clever ..." ---------------- (oh how superlatives soothe little girls ~wink~) ------

----- "But Master, ... Master ... well, she's sorry to ask, but what about this slave's blogs? Do You really like them?"

Poor, poor, pitiful slave. ~smile~

Y/you see? my insides will always be the thing i'll want savored most of all.

Master held my hand. And then He held it tighter still. He offered a few more bones in the form of positive reactions to a few particulars in my blogs and then my tail wagged, my nerves were set at ease.

~~~ + ~~~

Once at the doctor's office, W/we entered the examining room to do the pre-op with the nurse. Master pulled a chair right along side the exam table and as i sat there, He held my hand the whole time. my Master is INSANE this way. i LOVE how He babies me. He again told me how proud He is of me and again, i reminded Him, "oh yes, but Master, You really do love this slave's soul, right? i mean, without a soul, a body is nothing, right? i mean, sure -- a great body is GREAT but it wouldn't mean anything if there weren't a soul contained within it, right?".

And He smiled. Wow did i feel coy. Wow did bold feel sweet and permittable.

Masters don't go around pronouncing love proclamations. They smile. They hold your hand and They let you know in some telepathic way that They love your heart just as much as your ability to take every bit of f-ing They can inflict. And in this case, with this Master, my beautiful Master, i AM superwoman! i can take EVERY bit of Kryptonite He hurls and pumps ... and that's alot of Kryptonite. He's a maniac, He's all Male, and He is my Daddy even though you'd never know it. There is nothing like a superhero expressing tenderness!

Master held my hand. This should be my very own concocted proverb.

When the pre-op nurse was finished, the anaesthialogist had His turn.
i cried.
Master held my hand.

When the doctor came in ...
i cried.
Master held my hand.

When i was called to then follow the nurse into the operating room, i felt okay ... light and happy. Master kissed me goodbye and i started down the hallway on tippy toes. i turned to look over my shoulder not really quite sure if i did it by rote or if Master had said something to have me turn and look at Him again. It all felt like slow motion. Filmic. i blew Him my usual air-kiss. Smiled. And continued.

i entered the operating room.
i cried.
Master was still holding my hand even though He was in the waiting room.

Once situated on the operating table, i was amazed at how comfortable! i even said so. They all knew i was nervous -- i was crying! A few small talk questions were asked, and then i woke up. Master later told me that He knew precisely when i had come out of recovery because He heard only my high pitched recicitation: "oh God oh God oh God". That's when i was moved from asleep in the bed to awake in the chair. i asked the nurse if she was really sure i was ready to go home. i was certain she was disposing of me too quickly! i was in limbo! And in pain!

Master took me by the hand, but this time, it was not because i was crying. Master held my hand as if He had just picked up His pet from the Veterinarian Hospital. He carried me home. He holds my hand but you see, its really that He is holding my leash. He is forever allowing me the most sublime pleasure of all -- the one that is just like the superlatives i aspire to be -- i get to be the loyal obedient pet and i have the supreme comfort and pleasure of being owned.

Master holds my hand. i'm claimed. i'm secured. i'm improved, first emotionally, now physically. i'm with added value ... and still, i always look for His hand.

Say what you mean; mean what you say.

2007-03-29T18:32:00.000-07:00

28 November, 2006

Alright -- i'm guilty. i beat around more bushes than anyone on the planet -- so, okay, lash my bush for beating around the bush -- preferably HARD with a single tail ~wink~ (and well, so much for that as i don't have a bush! -- so there!). Point is, i should get to the point more readily.

But i'm learning. i'm learning. i'm getting better.

MEANWHILE ...

The other day i endured one of those disapprovals from a relative (whom i do love dearly, yes, yes, we know, now go ahead and tell us how much you CAN'T STAND when she does that passive-aggressive thing of couching what she really means to sling). She offered me that kind of direction that makes me want to stop her in her tracks and make her ADMIT to what she's REALLY saying.

my mind silently screams, "Don't play games with me! i'm too smart!".

i was advised that the country i'll be visiting next year is a country where the women really do not wear "heavy eye make-up". She wanted to make sure i knew to tone down the make-up because, you know, women don't wear much make-up over there at all. And when i dress, i best be sure to not wear any of "those" short skirts. You know, they don't like that sort of thing over there. i'll want to be sure to present myself as a "nice" person. "Over there", which really means, 'God i WISH you'd STOP wearing that heavy dark eye make-up ALTOGETHER!'.

Is she suggesting that my smokey eye look makes me look "not nice"? If she says that not wearing it makes me look "nice", well, then, doesn't it stand to reason that, hey, if you've got that look and you're wearing those skirts, you sure ain't depicting "nice"?

Other unsolicited advice included the instruction to make sure i don't look like some American flashy movie-star, about eighteen additional mentions of the heavy eye make-up issue, and some vague inference that i might change my style to look more "respectable".

Note that i said INFERENCE. Sure, she didn't say i don't look respectable, but she implied it. In my opinion, she just shot me down royally!

Now, now, little girl -- you're over-reacting. you're just too sensitive and you are reading into things. Well, FINALLY, i am happy to report that my sensitivity has too often allowed me to think (but not say) "i told you so".

This has nothing to do with visiting a third world country. i'll be visiting a metropolitan city within a third world country and besides, i MIGHT mingle with a movie-star, i MIGHT want to be seen as a movie-star ... and doesn't she think i'm smart enough to NOT wear stilettos while trekking in the desert?

i don't take well to such round-about innuendo!
i want to call her out! Make her confess!
i'm too bothered by approval.
i don't like disapproval.
i love approval.
i've sought it forever!
Disapproval reminds me of criticism and criticism is rarely constructive UNLESS its sought out. Unsolicited is almost always meddlesome and meddlesome is almost always unwelcome.

If you can't approve, if you can't cheer me on, if i didn't ask for input, PLEASE don't crush me with specifications that don't fit my chassis! Master is my driver, Master is my guide. If i'm happy having found my place and if i feel more sexy and more alive than ever before, why do you want to kill something that is finally living?

Wow! i just thought of something! What will i do with these new big tits? Leave them at home with the caviar eyeliner and micro-short skirts? Never! A smart girl is always prepared. Never leave home without essentials and contingencies. Whether i'm under the sun, beneath the stars, or at my Master's mercy, (OR under some other person's SCRUTINY !! ), i'm ready, willing and able. And i'll say what i mean and mean what i say ... even if it takes me a long time to do so. And you can be sure that i'll remain under the thumb and on top of the world ... sex appeal and all ... impoverished or old. It won't matter. Your style will define you, your soul will carry you ... as too will Master.

logic + emotion = CONFUSION & CONFLICT

2007-03-29T18:29:00.000-07:00

30 November, 2006

The other day i was doing my usual and attempting to find reason within someone's thinking (or lack of it as the case may be). Master asked why i was attempting to apply logic to that of a deranged mind.

i guess it makes me feel better. When i can reconcile something to a legitimate point of view, even if differing from my own, i can put it away and not feel the itch (or NAGGING irritation) of wanting to SLAM the person down and get them to see things my way. i really like to put myself in someone else's shoes, NOT because i'm Saintly, but because i'm selfish. i want everything to have a slot or cubby in which to reside. i like order and peace. i do not like to feel that anything is unresolved. i hate confrontation! Disagreement is confrontation, so imagine a fight -- a fight is WAR and my life is surely on the line.

When Master told me that my applying logic was futile, i got riled. Then emotion kicked in. When logic doesn't work, emotion steps in. Master asked why i was again with the emotion when i, by now, have figured out that some people will NEVER cooperate and it is pointless to get bothered by it.

Well, the voice of reason, the voice of the heart -- they both lose (but hopefully win). Either way, i can't quite get it right! i'm just not one to roll over and play dead. When something is wrong, i either must find a way to prove that i'm wrong OR find a way to prove them wrong. Its pretty infuriating actually. i just need to reconcile it all by knowing that SOMEONE is right -- if its them, please may i come around to seeing it, and if its me, please may they come around to seeing it.

Now i'm going to try something brand new.

Now i'm going to use the voice of a prevailing EMINENT prophet!

There are some people who are ALL about the knife. They fight for the sake of fighting. They only are content if inflicting the pain that they themselves feel all the the time. Even when they stand to benefit, they can't even be smart enough to accept it UNLESS they first make certain that no one else benefits at all. They'll cut off their nose to spite their face.

Its not greed really at all. You could give them the multi-million dollar jackpot and that would not appease them UNLESS they first knew that it cost you your blood. They only want to win at someone else's suffering. Your suffering is their prize, nothing else.

If only they had a self-awareness! They're megalomaniacs! They don't think except to scheme and connive in order to punish everyone -- the everyones who know the happiness they wish they could know. But they don't even know to miss it or wish for it! Megalomaniacs know nothing.

So ... that wasn't prophetic, that was logical. Non-emotional. i said it well -- i just did my little essay and i should now feel better that i've explained it. Yet why do i still succumb to the emotion of injustice? Why do i look for the rationale and then still fall victim to anger and tears?

Today i opened one of those letters -- the kind that i usually DON'T read at night. i am incapable of receiving anything that will make me anxious if its at night before bedtime.

i read the personal attack. Some people think they're really clever with words. They hurl them with fancy biting vocabulary -- they douse them first in the sewer and paint it with scum -- then they deliver it with calisthenics of the tongue because everywhere else, they're pitifully inferior.

Funny. They tell everyone else ALL the time, without fail, that you, you, and you are inferior. Their finger is perpetually erect because nothing else is.

i keep telling myself this. i keep telling myself that they THINK they're smart. They're completely driven by an inadequate ego. i tell myself this and i know that the meek are often with a greater inner strength -- we don't feel the NEED to slam others so that we look good. But still ...

i attempt logic.
When that fails, when logic doesn't prevail -- when its clear that attackers and abusers ONLY thrive on attacking and abusing, i react with emotion.

No matter how hard i try, if it surfaces, i react. When its out of sight, its truly out of mind. Please may it go away forever soon! Please may i bury the aftermath of my dead family and the one puny devil incarnate FOREVER AND SOON! Please may it, the devil incarnate, one day have consciousness so that it can really suffer through its wrath.

Has anyone seen my Serotonin?

2007-03-29T18:22:00.000-07:00

3 December, 2006

Master told me early on that He believed me to have more sensory receptors than the average person -- something about an abundance of extra sensitive open nerve endings . i think He's right! i think its why my orgasms are felt in Siberia and why flooding occurs in the Sahara -- i basically shake the world with my own release. Its also why, each day of last week, i went to work and envisioned the FEELING the glory in coming home from work to change into something comfortable. On the commute TO work, all i could do was think of the commute going home!

i left work each day, did the multitudes of errands and shuttling and shopping and cooking ... and then INSTANTLY upon entering my house, changed into my new pink flannel pajamas. They are not flattering and they are not even cute or pretty. They're just soft -- REALLY soft.

Its pathetic really -- i actually am still daydreaming about how great it feels. i get so anxious for it that my skin gets wet. i'm a VERY tactile person. i'll do anything to FEEL textures ... even brand new trade paperbacks at Borders. i don't go looking to read any new bestsellers -- i just feel them up!

Its like aftercare -- after a severe session, i crave the babying so much and i slink down into the luxury of it all that i float for a very long time ... even a few days sometimes. Its like a long-lasting Valium. Or rather Quaalude. i LOVE the tranquility and i'm dying for it right now. i'm quiet right now but i'm not tranquil. i miss my slave self. Lately she's been consumed with the others residing within her. (Note my "streamlining" blog and you'll know exactly what i'm talking about.)

i'm getting so far away from my slave self and that really disappoints me. To the point of tears actually. i cried a little while ago but it wasn't a big cry -- just an impromptu weep, over and done with in about 20 minutes. i'm just prone to it, i think. It must be those receptors. That and the fact that Serotonin has up and ran off again.

Actually, i think i know exactly what is going on. i didn't do what makes me most happy -- i didn't provide Master with His release. O/our time together was limited this weekend even though W/we spent a good amount of time together -- W/we didn't have our intimate time together. i didn't even get to wear my steel collar, only my day collar and ... well, okay -- this makes sense. This is why i feel the quiet and the distance -- i feel that i disappointed by not living up to my fullest potential, that of being used extensively. That of being JUST a sexual creature.

Add to this the comforts and something feels off. i only enjoy tenderness and pampering IF i've earned it. Hence, i think i'm feeling WAY FAR AWAY from my slave world and that usually is not at issue. Usually its all incorporated -- i never abandon one world for another ... and yet today i sit here in this very perplexing mood. i'm not sure where i am.

The receptors either have me euphoric or downtrodden -- elated or down in the dumps. Where is the middle ground?

Well, i guess its a good thing -- at least i'll never stagnate like the millions of complacent people in the world. i'll either be laughing my head off with glee (from life and love and sexual deviance) or i'll be deep in depression and fighting like heck to get out of it! There's the happy hysteria and the day-to-day delirium -- right now i'm looking for them as it seems that Serotonin not only took off -- it abducted my life, too!

-- 2 --

These new tits are HEAVY. They're coming out on the sides now. my biceps keep rubbing the roundness and i like it. But the sensation is what drove me to have bought those new very UNsexy pajamas.

One day i won't be able to wear those jammies again EVER. i get away with lots of forbidden comforts right now but once i live with Master, i'll be mostly naked or dressed in whorish attire. Oh, i say whoreish but really its just sexy -- sometimes its over the top, but sexy is whorish if you do it well -- it doesn't have to mean hot pants outside the Lincoln Tunnel.

Which reminds me how much i used to LOVE circling the tunnel in the wee hours after leaving the clubs. If its intriguing and dark, a phenomenon to behold, you can bet i'll take up first row center until i'm ready to try it out, that is, IF its something that can't be passed up. Passing up the Lincoln Tunnel whores is a VERY GOOD idea! But watching will allow you a glimpse of a subculture that reminds you you are darn lucky to know a DIFFERENT subculture! i'm lucky to know the pleasure of full immersion in the gutter and too, the delicacy of being cared for.

i'm a whore but i'm Master's whore. i'll serve Master's friends or even strangers when Master directs it. Those other whores have no Master. i FEEL their pain! i do! Its the receptors again. Those dirty busting-out-at-the-seams whores -- they have to suck off every Tom, Dick, and Harry with every disease and every bit of bad-hygiene or fear being beat up later and NOT because its some beautiful ritual in the dungeon. Rather than dismiss their life, i need to smoke it for awhile so that i can really understand what they feel.

i'm lucky for all i get to know! i'm lucky that i get to really LIVE AND BREATHE emotion but i really didn't used to feel this way.

i used to numb it. It was too busy killing me all the time or getting me into trouble, so i attempted to disguise it while wishing that in my next life, i'd come back not needing anyone or anything. i didn't want the receptors. i didn't want to FEEL everything.

For the very same reasons that i can FEEL softness and searing pain turned soft, even before my flesh gets a real hint of it and for the same reasons i'm walking around like i'm reading Braille, touching everything in sight, i also feel the penetration deeply. i think i wasn't born with enough insulation. You NEED insulation! You cannot be exposed to the elements or you'll have hypothermia of the soul and that can kill a person, you know. The incision of disapproval, displeasure from another, my disappointing someone -- all those 'dis' words (discount, disgust!) gets through -- it SCREAMS failure at me. It cuts straight away to my vital organs. Heart and cunt. That could be why my cunt took over! To ameliorate my heart!

The strangest things used to happen! i went on a subconscious quest to make sure the world was happy! i would never say "no". i'd thank the kind Men Who took me to dinner by not refusing Their advances. Surely, it was way too risky a proposition to CHANCE someone's NOT liking of me? i attempted to be agreeable at great cost. And even when agreeing, i'd be dismissed and THAT is when i grew the ultimate love-hate relationship, not just with my father and anyone remotely like him, but myself!

Its those receptors -- i'm telling you its the receptors.

-- 3 --

One day Master and i were taking O/our SCUBA certification course and i got panicked. It had happened previously many years ago. i had to sit out. Never mind that i was a competitive swimmer. The Dive Master (or Mistress in this case -- wow did i love her German-ness! ) parked me on some dock steps where the waves were throwing me off kilter. The equipment is of no consequence underwater but the weight of it is felt when you attempt to sit in shallow water with half of your body exposed and shivering.

The other Dive Master approached and said, "oh, I see -- you think you're special, don't you?" and it was a chiding of course but wow did it sting to the point that even today and probably forever, i will associate that with the one thing that always hurts. i know i like to be thought of as "special" but wow, do i really think i'm entitled to some special sort of treatment?

The receptors -- they cloud your vision, too!

Well, i hope not -- i hope i never feel entitled. Deserving, okay, but that would mean i earned something. Entitled just means something along the lines of ... "entitled to a fair trial" and well, don't get me started! Basically there is no such thing as a fair trial unless you are one of the entitlement types with alot of money and then that doesn't mean "fair" anyway. That aside, dear God, if there is even ONE spec of me that is self-absorbed, please, may i change it NOW BEFORE my next life!!

Now please let me get back to writing about myself. ~wink~

Maybe this is the receptor issue again -- maybe they cause me to reflect alot on motivations and such because afterall, i'm using less energy to deflect things -- the energy has to go somewhere. Wait a minute! -- i know!! -- Serotonin is just like a runaway kid whose family berates itself asking where they went wrong. Serotonin's temporary disappearance makes me ask, why? What happened? What did i do wrong? How can i get it BACK and FAST and ensure that it stays put?

-- 4 --

The other day in the office, a woman said she was going to the funeral of a three year old boy. She was telling this to someone else and this time i decided that overhearing and responding when not addressed was perfectly within my right (yikes -- "within my right" -- that expression sounds like an entitlement expression). Everyone else was silent. No one expressed anything other than a sympathetic look, as in, "oh, that's too bad". They could have been talking about their own kid's disappointment at that horrific Giants/Jaguars game last week and well, that actually stirred MORE reaction at the office than the news of the three year old boy.

Now i'm here, several days later, me and my receptors, still thinking of the three year old boy. i just applied for the Make A Wish credit card! With every single purchase, money is contributed to the organization. Its free -- it costs NOTHING! Why wouldn't anyone trade in their credit card for THIS credit card?

-- 5 -- BOTTOM LINE:

i'm really drifting far away right now ... i've been back in the vanilla landscape alot lately and yeah, okay, sure, it might be Tahitian Vanilla -- its still exotic and rich because i travel all lands as Master's slave. But at this very moment, i am so removed from Master and O/our world what with things that have come up and the bit of time to recuperate from surgery and ... and an array of other obligations and -------------- and and and -- well, things have gotten in the way of my being Master's slave even to the point that Master feels it -- and He doesn't even have those receptors!!

Okay -- life is great but i'm just quiet and less exuberant today. Contemplative. Oh, if only to give into vapidness! How nice that might feel once and awhile. i'm not nearly that special as the little three year old boy, i'm definitely not AS dirty as the whores at the Lincoln Tunnel, and i'm so much better than i used to be. i'm enjoying the softness in me now whereas before i had to protect it or hide it and find disguises. i can deal with this quiet now and i can admit to not liking it whereas before, it would tear me apart and i'd either thrill-seek or self-destruct.

Now i'm feeling the flannel and the flame inside and i have never felt anything more sensual in my life! You do know its ignitable, right? Its precisely the reason i'm misunderstood lots of times -- its exactly why i'm blamed as a culprit when often i'm stating my defense. Someone slight screaming LOUD is always misconstrued. And that of course just breeds and grows the receptors. i've said it only a million times -- Fiona Apple wrote my anthem, "fondle my trigger then blame my gun".

The combination -- the sensitivity and the passion -- they are combustible. There is nothing about me that is flame-retardant -- nothing. i now have embraced it but the only problem at the moment is that it is just a little steady pilot light rather than the usual roaring inferno. i'm far away. The receptors feel numbed -- exactly the effect i used to try to achieve -- but now i've changed. i want them back! The receptors. i've learned to appreciate them.

Well, they'll return. They'll heat up again. The good news is that, at least now, the light doesn't ever go out anymore. Change of temperature is acceptable now because the flame is perpetually aglow.

Forced Oral

2007-03-02T18:37:00.000-08:00

3 December, 2006

i almost got sick. Sick as in throwing up sick. No, no, silly -- not THAT. i have swallowed since the day i learned to walk ... well, learned to walk as a tart, that is. ~wink~

Tonight i turned on the kitchen television -- i like the kitchen television -- it is a nice background when you aren't with the music. Some Christian fundamentalist was shouting something about "SEND US YOUR PRAYER" and we'll put it on the altar and then send you a prayer blanket after you send us ... um ... your life's savings. The guy obviously gives really bad oral. Oh sure, he gives it ALL the time -- that's what those spermons (i mean sermons!) are all about -- lots of oratory and attempts at planting some seed.

The second i heard the voice, i registered repulsion and i wanted to QUICK turn it off but couldn't or else the turkey burgers would burn. my reaction was rapid fire, EWW! -- CRINGE! -- GROSS!! You can NEVER get me to swallow THAT! i love force but there is force and there is force. Don't shove a lecturer down my throat EVER!!

The obvious annoyance led me to amusement. What idiots! What person would cook dinner and actually maybe intentionally turn it on routinely at that hour? That's all i could think! Imagine the poor souls who NEED that badly and so, they think that an hour of the preacher and sending him some money will be their Salvation.

It made me about as sick as when i read about those bags of letters found on the Jersey shore. The ones that washed up on the beach one day. The ones that were never opened. The ones that were sent to the Priest. The ones the Priest never opened. The letters asked for things like healing and cures and forgiveness. Yeah, well, F. the priest who didn't open those letters!! He wasn't a priest. He blew everyone but never swallowed -- never delivered what he promised. He spit it all out.

Once the turkey burgers weren't an issue, i turned the station and landed on canyon climbing with the Andes Mountain pan pipe soundtrack. i think its called "bouldering". It was on PBS. i never watch PBS! They were begging. Asking for contributions -- no different from the preacher sending out prayer blankets to the hopeless. But THIS was worth any and every contribution! The Man featured does ballet in Yosemite -- He is at one with nature and in harmony with peace and He climbs rocks and scales heights that would only bring you closer to REAL Heaven and REAL Priests.

Funny. They interviewed the guy. He didn't say much at all. He was humble. Honest. An artist. Funny indeed -- no commentary and yet i was moved and satisfied. Now, THAT's a good blow-job.

NEW IMPROVED sLAVE

2007-03-02T18:34:00.000-08:00

5 December, 2006

Coming Soon ...

Soon, baby girl. Soon.

Learn patience! Be practical!

i'm getting there ... one day betters the previous one. i'm now able to sleep on my side and soon, hopefully soon, W/we'll be able to squeeze my new big tits. But i can't wait! i can't wait to be completely healed so that Master can throw me around with no mercy again. It would be nice to slap these tits at some point -- gosh i sure hope they are REALLY durable because part of the fun will be watching them jiggle and sway and well, just imagine when they're hanging there in your face -- how could you NOT want to slap them and get sinister (as in a real MEAN SICK sinister)?

i'm anxious to get there already. i'm not myself. i feel like a 600lb sloth. Everything is labored! my thighs are actually touching together and i could swear i have a double chin. i remember an old aunt of mine. she was short and fat. she had fat on her back! she huffed and puffed just to go up and down the stairs or to bend over and get the pastries out of the oven. i hear myself with no stamina at the moment -- the loud breathing if i exert myself -- i can't stand it! i need the gym!!!!!!!!!!!!! i can't wait!!!!!!!!!!!!

Over the weekend, at the middle school basketball game, i counted the spectators sitting on the sidelines. 21 adults. 19 of them were out of shape. 19 of them were out of shape AND overweight. 17 of them were outright FAT. 17 of them had no shame and no cares that their blubber was hanging out over the top of their pants or making rolls that looked like an extreme ski mogul track. All i could think was, GOD, i would be so uncomfortable. There is nothing like feeling the stealth and prowess of a lean wildcat! It changes your life and your energy and your head. i'm not a fitness fanatic -- i'm just a sick glutton for feeling good. And okay, looking good. Look good and you feel good -- its that simple -- its not the cliched joke but REALITY.

i look around and say, wow, more than EVER, i want to be in phenomenal shape. i'll swim with the fish and climb with the billygoats ... and run circles around the other ponies in the stable. i'll be exhilarated to the point of sleep being the grandest luxury in the world. i'll get to feel every single aching muscle as my very own personal Divinity. Yes -- Divinity! i go way up high when i push further at the gym, when i go beyond limits in the dungeon ... when i go way far down in order to belly crawl in the stench of the gutter. Ahh, life is beautiful when you exert yourself!

I need to know that i can RUN fast and never look back. i need to think i can obtain Jackie Chan status when flying through the air. i need to climb mountains and NEVER look down (wise idea).

i like the idea that if i FEEL in tip-top condition, i can weather all storms, no umbrellas, no slickers, no cute little red shiny galoshas. i LOVE being naked! So i HAVE to be fit in all realms. If i'm going to display my insides, i'd like the packaging to cause me no inhibition at all.

So here i am, a little frustrated that i can't work out yet. Here i am still being gingerly about my new boobs. Please, SOON, SOON-God-SOON, may i get back to things because otherwise, all that kickboxing is going to go to pot. i already feel that my bottom isn't quite as tight and round. The heart-shape is in place but i can tell you honestly that a conditioned bottom is a whole lot more luscious than just a naturally nice one. In my 20s, my bottom was cute. In my 40s, its now something to REALLY grab. Its like the difference between tasty and something to devour with INSANE GUSTO.

i'm not really THAT much of an A-type. i mean, you CAN keep me down. i CAN enjoy the rest. i'm all for relaxation just as much as for accomplishment. i can swallow leisure like the best of the primadonnas. But i really like to know i did something first to receive the reward. Right now, i'm soaking up lethargy, not relaxation. Its making me sick!

i NEED to get back to my slave self entirely. i've been given too many little indulgences that verge on suburban female independence. i've been lax -- complacent in my motivation. i'm not working hard! i'm not playing hard! i'm not challenging my mind or doing my cranium stretches. Its making my heart slouch! i'm not expanding myself other than in ways i don't like -- namely eating without exercise.

i want my life back soon!
The dungeon!
The torture!
The beatings!
The gym!
The kickboxing!
The endorphins!
The squirting buckets all over Master's living room!

A romantic night at home in my doggy bed at Master's feet.
The routine and the structure -- Master's discipline and my being more diligent.

i have to be BETTER!
i've been getting WAY off track!

Start today, baby girl, TODAY ... i promise to correct myself with my own self-imposed will ...

i will not be negligent about my slave journal entries.
i will get back to my filthy mind and dripping wet pussy.
i will get back to my dreaminess.
i will get back to my purpose and my reason.

Maybe when Master takes me out on the town again next week (for the first time since the acquiring of my new big boobs), that will give me a good jump start. Maybe once i squeeze into one of those dresses He gets me, i'll be that much closer to the person i love to be. Once i have that privilege again and once i then get to be everything Master needs me to be, i will be back on track and i won't feel so far away from myself.

If outwardly i get to project what i know inside my cage, THEN i am true and whole. This compartmentalizing is stifling! Its maddening! Its like i have abandoned the wanton slut in exchange for the 'get-whatever-she-wants' woman and i want no part of it! (Okay -- a semi-part in it will do. i do like to receive.) i'm a creature of SEX and i want my genes on display again -- i want the world to see me as Master's pet and then when they do, i can answer all their questions if they're ready to convert. i'll hand out literature and promotions and i'll be the model and spokesperson for slaves all around the world!

THESE things will get me back closer to where i need to be. my heady state of mind will be reawakened and i'll then BOUNCE through life as i do. Then i'll inherit the earth again! Being away from it, being relegated to singular use as opposed to multi-use, well, i'm determined to come back with a vengeance. Watch out, Master, here she comes! ~sexy wink to Master~