Long Overdue

I realize this post is long overdue.  Quite frankly, I haven't been able to bring myself to sit down and write...anything.  Until today.

This year has been a tough one.  Our dynamic took a backseat for quite a while, probably since around September of last year when Heron started having gallbladder problems.   

He had surgery at the end of October and by the time he recovered, the holidays were right upon us.  The start of this year was no easier than the end of the last.  Work was very demanding for both of us, my father had several major surgeries, and my mother had one as well. Of course, I am in essence her care giver so that was a challenge.  Can't forget the kids either.  As they get older, their schedules and needs just seems to get more complicated.

All of this left almost no energy for us to nurture our dynamic. And in the chaos of all going on, our vanilla life became comfortable...for me anyways.     

I still served in the capacity that I could but after a while, I began to realize that I didn't miss the punishments.  I didn't miss the fear of some humiliating task.  I didn't miss pain.  There were a lot of things I didn't miss.

Our connection still seemed strong though.  Despite all that was going on around us, we leaned on each other and found peace and comfort even though life was quite vanilla. I knew he was giving me the time and space I needed.

Admittedly, I began spending way too much time on Fetlife.  I don't know what was going on other than I was using that as an escape from my life.  I enjoyed the attention, until I didn't anymore, and then I pretty much abandoned that as well.

For a really long time, I had felt so over extended that my only solution was to withdraw from everyone and commit to focusing only on work, the kids, and Heron.  

We tried a few times to revitalize the active dynamic but each time, we faced some set back.  And honestly, I was mostly relieved.  Whenever he mentioned "getting back on track", it was almost like panic set in, resistance set in, and in some ways even resentment crept in.

Who knows now...it might have come to fruition or it might not have but he mentioned several times that he needed to come up with something that would challenge me even more than last year.  But some of the experiences had taken a toll on me, probably more so than we realized since I have a tendency to bury my feelings until they come forth later, usually quite unexpectedly.

Being disconnected from the dynamic, I had also started to see that I had adopted my submission so well, that I had lost my edge at work and with my kids.  I had given up so much control that I lost confidence in controlling any situation no matter what the environment.  And I was just starting to get that confidence back.   

I remember standing in the kitchen during one of these "we need to get back on track" conversations and I asked him if we could keep things the way they were. 

Yes...I was comfortable.  Not being challenged had become comfortable. 
 
So when we went on vacation at the beginning of the summer, and he questioned me, questioned my ability to give 100%...I admitted that I couldn't. I knew what 100% meant.  It meant being challenged.  It meant giving up all control again. And what scared me the most, was it meant recommitting myself to do whatever he wanted, even if it was something I didn't agree with.

The conversation didn't go at all the way I expected it.  I didn't expect to be choosing release right then and there, but that is what happened.  I had only intended to communicate that I didn't feel I could submit to the level he needed me to and still be myself and the person I needed to be outside of our relationship. Over the period of the next couple weeks, I tried to talk to him about it.  I felt that there had to be a way that we could negotiate something that would allow both of our needs to be met while still honoring our D/s commitment to each other.

But Heron is and always has been an all or nothing person. This would be no different.  There would be no negotiation, no limits, no conditions.  And if I wasn't willing to agree to all, then there would be nothing...not even bedroom kink.  I watched with a broken heart as he began almost immediately getting rid of all of our toys and implements. I can't stand that I've hurt him. He feels that maybe he cared about all of this more than I ever did, which couldn't be further from the truth.

On one hand, it all makes me very sad.  On the other, his being so rigid makes me a bit angry.

But all I can do is respect his position.  The readjustment is hard for us both, probably for him more so than me because I had already begun to mentally disengage from the dynamic months ago.

Somehow, we will get through it, as long as we have each other...in the end, that's really all that matters anyways.

"Even the most beautiful days eventually have their sunsets" - author unknown

 
Thank you to all of you...those who followed my journey, those that that became friends, those who reached out to send well wishes or check on me during my silence.  I suspect this may be my last post here but one never knows. 

A Popular Post

Last week I posted My Pussy Doesn't Betray Me...She's Just Stupid.  Well, not only did I post that here on my blog but I had posted it on Fetlife as well.

I was absolutely amazed at what a huge success it was!

The comments and messages on Fet were flooding in from women all over with similar stories.  I can't even describe what an awesome feeling it was to have written something that connected with so many. 

One of the messages I received was from Perverted Podcast asking if they could use my post as a topic on their show.

WHOA!!  How cool is that??

Of course, then I was like wait...what exactly is a podcast and how do they work? 

So I have now listened to a podcast for the first time and thought I would share with all of you if you are interested.  Here's the link...it's about 20-30 minutes into the show when they talk about my post. I couldn't help but laugh when they referred to Heron as my "boyfriend".  If they only knew...

https://soundcloud.com/perverted-podcast/show-32-labia-medical-emergancy

Hopefully the link works. If it doesn't, let me know.




    

 

My Pussy Doesn't Betray Me...She's Just Stupid

And here all these years, I've been thinking it was some deep-rooted psychological phenomenon.

Well, last night I finally figured it all out as I was straddling Heron, riding his cock. I couldn't help but notice she was a bit dry which is weird because that's not typically an issue.

Anyways, a few minutes go by and I lean over, pressing my body up against him so that we are face to face. He'd been relatively quiet up until that point but then he asked me (in ya know..THAT voice), "Are you ready to be punished this weekend?".

Whoooaaaa! Hold the phone...What the heck just happened here?

My body froze and I began tallying a mental list of what I might have done or might not have done.
Beginning to realize the list is perhaps just a bit longer than I thought, I also realize something else as soon as I resume rocking my hips.

She is now getting EXTREMELY squishy down there.

DAMN HER!

Please believe me when I say...I REALLY don't like punishment of any kind. That whole disappointment in myself is a real bitch and I'm usually crying like a little kid before it even starts.
So back to the fucking and his list of the intended consequences.

"You know what the punishment is when you forget the coat hangers, right?"
"Yes, Sir". SQUISH

"Do you think if I punish your ass, you will remember next time?"
"Yes, Sir". SQUISH...SQUISH

"Do you think if I punish your tits, you will remember next time?"
"Yes, Sir". OH GOD, why is she making this worse for me??

"Do you think if I punish your cunt, you will remember next time"
whimpering
"Yes, Sir". By now, he must feel like he's fucking a mop bucket. These sounds are so embarrassing

Of course, he couldn't help but point out her reaction to his threats which didn't help matters at all.
That's when it all occurred to me. It's not that she is betraying me, giving away some dark dirty secret that deep down I actually enjoy punishment.

She's just THAT damn stupid. Without understanding a single word, she hears that tone in his voice, and the poor little thing just gushes.

Think of it like talking to your dog. You can tell your little pooch that he's the filthiest most vile creature in the world for eating the crotch out of your most expensive panties and that you are going enjoy killing his sorry ass.

BUT say it with a sweet voice, and he just looks at you so lovingly, with ears perked and tail wagging. Why...because he doesn't understand a damn word you just said. He's just happy to have your attention.

So there you have it. Apparently my pussy is an attention whore with a really low IQ.

What a Year This Has Been

As I look back over this year, I think of how much has changed.

I have changed...

Heron has changed...

We both have changed separately and together. But we have grown. 

The first half of the year seemed quiet and typical. Just the two of us doing our thing.

And then I met Chrysalis, which changed my world completely.

Along with meeting her, I experienced life in a way I thought might never happen. 

Then came my being loaned.

This brought SO many new experiences, all in just a short two day period.

And let's not forget about mine and Heron's photo shoot and visiting a swingers club.

While the middle part of the year was packed full, the latter part has been largely quiet (much like this blog) except for officially becoming part of the slave registry and my pole dancing classes.  

This year has had it's share of ups.  But you know how things go.  With "ups"...there is almost always a "down".   

There has been quite a bit for each of us to process on our own and as a couple.  At times, my mind was just too pre-occupied to write, almost like I had a million things to say but couldn't find the words. 

Thankfully, Heron also finished school so in the quiet time, we have more time to spend nurturing "us".

I think it's been fairly obvious by the few posts recently, that I have been on a path of reflection and introspection.

Sometimes, the "quiet" needs to happen. 

Who knows where the path goes now.  Only time will tell.

But Heron and I would like to close out this year by saying thank you! 

To my friends here that provided advice, kind words, and support...I truly appreciate each and every one of you. 

To my lovely lurkers, I appreciate and adore you too.

To those of you that reached out seeking our advice, we are humbled and flattered. 

I wish you all...Happy Holidays and a Prosperous New Year!

"Striving unto perfection, I give of myself all I am, all I ever will be, all you will ever desire"

While I cannot claim credit for the quote as it was given to me by someone else, it speaks volumes!

 

"Sock" It to Me

It's been quite a while since I felt the sting of Heron's disappointment and the humiliation of being punished. 

Thankfully, punishments are rare these days.  Typically for us, a stern warning here and there goes a long way towards righting the ship that is beginning to steer off course.      

But there was this one thing...

You know how inevitably, one sock out of a pair always gets lost in the laundry? 

Somehow between the washer and dryer one of them just...disappears!

Well, we have been experiencing a slightly different phenomenon in our house but still relating to socks.  It's more like one never makes it to the laundry. Almost every time single time I scoop up dirty clothes, I manage to leave ONE sock behind on the floor.  And even though I feel like I double check myself all the time, it has continued to happen.

Heron has been quite patient with it, sometimes even joking about how it's now like my little "signature".  But I also knew the underlying message, in a gently way of course, was to correct the problem. 

Well, I was out with my daughter the other day when I received a text message from Him with this picture attached.

And the words...SOMEONE IS IN TROUBLE.

Now the last couple of months, Heron has been dealing with a medical issue which means life for the most part has been, well just that...life.  He ended up having minor surgery just a little over a month ago and I am happy to say He has recovered nicely.   

But that text message definitely signaled that He was getting back on the horse and ready to deal with any lack of focus on my part.

It was several days before He actually had the time to follow through on any punishment.  And like a kid, I tried extra hard those few days, hoping He might put it out of His mind. 

Nope...that didn't happen. 

The other night He told me it was time to deal with some business.  He ordered me to remove all my clothes and kneel in the middle of the bedroom floor.

Nothing had even happened yet and tears were already welling up in my eyes. As I knelt there, looking at the floor, He asked me if I understood why I was being punished.  I understood perfectly.  Didn't stop me from being angry and disappointed.   

I felt sure that my punishment would come in the form of a paddling but Heron always does know how to surprise me. 

As I knelt there, He walked away for a moment and returned with a sock.  Yes, one of His dirty socks!

Bet you can guess where that sock went!

If you guessed in my mouth, well then, you would be correct.

As He sat back on the chest at the end of our bed and folded His arms, I felt the increasing weight of His stare as I continued to keep my eyes on the floor.  Tears rolled down my cheeks and my mouth was humiliatingly full of smelly dirty sock.  And while I couldn't stand that my actions had made this necessary, I could feel the anger and disappointment fading away and the humility seeping back into my soul.  

The Slave Register

Heron has debated for a while on whether I should be added to The Slave Register.  He never believed that it was necessary for our respective roles or that it would make us any more official.  For us, the truly defining moment was our collaring ceremony. 

However, as more of a symbolic gesture, He did decide to go ahead and add me the other day.  Perhaps I underestimated how I would feel once seeing it in black and white.

https://www.slaveregister.com/

My Sunday Date with a Sadist of a Different Kind

The room is cold and dark, lit only by the twinkling of colored lights flashing from the ceiling.

As I wait for her to come in the room, I look around nervously, not fully understanding the extent of what's to come.

It promises to be a session like no other I have experienced for sure!

Like a true sadist, she pushes me further than I thought possible.

So many times, my body screams and begs to call "red"!

But instead, I only dig deeper, intent on pushing my own physical limits.

Now, it's been been two days since that session.

The bruising isn't nearly I bad as I thought it might be.

But...

The soreness... OH MY GOSH... THE SORENESS!!!

It's a deep aching pain. You know the kind that makes something as simple as pulling up your pants seem like a chore?

Yes, it's that kind of sore!

I hurt in places and ways I didn't know that I could.

My next meeting with this sadistic woman, oh I already cringe to think.

However, despite the pain, I am proud to say I survived my first pole dancing class.

And I climbed my ass all the way to the top of that pole!

Beyond the Words

Pearl  over at Happily Surrendered and Submissive made a comment on my last post about how my heart was in such a good place these days.  Her observation was very touching and is also spot on.  In fact, that very day, I had just posted the following as a writing on my Fetlife profile so I thought I would share it here as well...

Strip away the labels, the rules, the rituals.
True happiness lies in those things unspoken and less defined.
It's in his gentle touch and how it radiates through not just my body but also my soul.
It's in the way my heartbeat slows to match his when wrapped in his arms.
It's in his eyes when he looks into mine and knows all the hidden secrets.
It's in the way he drinks in my scent like it's a hit of his favorite drug.
It's in the way the beast peacefully slumbers once his appetite has been sated.
It's in that moment when he allows me to experience his vulnerability.
It's in a connection so powerful, we can predict what the other is thinking.
It's in knowing I would never want to spend a day on earth without him.

The Truth

He once told me,

As I walked out the door,

Trying to turn my back on our life together, 

"No one will ever love you like I do".

What cruel words I thought.

Now I realize, He was speaking only the most sincere truth.

Embracing "The Girl"

As a child, I was always very adult like, partly because I was mature for my age, but mostly just because this was expected of me. Not that my childhood was horrible. But being "a child" was discouraged. I also grew up believing that I didn't have a voice, that I was responsible for others happiness, and I always had to be strong.

As an adult, life has dealt some pretty shitty blows. This is no different than anyone else, I realize that. But it's always been my job to hold it all together - be strong for everyone around me. Even when I wanted and needed to be the one to fall apart.

As a slave, I understand that sometimes I still don't have a say. And while I may not be responsible for His happiness, I am responsible for being pleasing by doing what is expected. At times, being a slave requires a strength that I feel I have acquired over my lifetime.

But for the first time in my life, I have finally accepted that someone else can and wants to take care of me in return. It's okay to feel small, to let down your walls, to allow yourself to feel just a bit needy. There is safety and security in trusting someone so completely.

Finally, I am learning to embrace "the girl" I never was.

Picture Perfect

To me, this picture is a beautiful representation of how much my life has changed in less than one short year.

I am so grateful for all the new experiences thus far and the truly wonderful people that have shared in those along the way.

photo taken by @Depraved_Eros on Fetlife

To Heron, I think this photo served as inspiration to remind me just how torturous this darn little wand could be!  Saturday night he pulled it out for a little"fun", but that's a story for another post😊

A Little Late to the Party

Yes, I suppose I am a little late to this particular party or lagging a bit behind. 

Oh...this post may very well be filled with puns.  Haha! 

What's this party you ask?

Well it's the Glass Plug Party!

And now, I would like to officially bid thee farewell to my menagerie of silicone plugs!! You are no longer good for me.  

Why I didn't try a glass plug sooner...I have no idea. 

But you know what they say? 

Better late than never! Fashionably late is cool, right?

All this time, I guess they just seemed too intimidating...too cold...too unyielding.

However, after my escapades the weekend of my loan and having to fight that damn silicone plug to stay in the whole night, while dying a thousand deaths of embarrassment every time I had to shove it back in, I decided it was time to...take the plunge. 

Of course, after asking Heron if I could buy one, He was all too happy to help me pick one out.

So last week, my assignment was to wear it everyday from the time I got home from work until bedtime.  If I failed to have it in, sex was off the table.  Well, it was for me anyways.  It's never off the table for him.  Better believe I was on top of that assignment.   

Don't get me wrong...using a glass plug seemed to take a little more patience and relaxation, especially the first couple times I used it.  Getting past that bulbous head was a bit of a challenge but once it's in...IT'S IN!!

I literally felt as if I could do anything and it wasn't going anywhere. 

For the first time EVER, I actually enjoyed sex while plugged, without launching a missile.  Don't laugh...you know exactly what I mean.    

I'm addicted!

And if you find yourself reading this and think "Wow...the plug in that picture looks familiar." Well yes, I totally copied.  You know who you are! :-)

Make Us Proud

Last Friday night, Heron and I had some special plans.  We met the Mistress and her boyfriend at a local swinger's club. 

The last time I had seen her was the weekend spent in her service, so I was a bit nervous, not knowing what to expect. Of course, this was also the first time Heron and I had been to this type of club so we just didn't know what to expect in general. 

The night was fun and included some girl/girl action, which was certainly a hit with all of the guys at the club.

One of the highlights had to be the wet T-shirt contest.  As soon as Heron and the Mistress heard that there would be such a contest, they agreed that I was going to be in it.

The shirts were passed around to all the contestants and then we were called down to the dance floor.   Heron sent me down with a hug and a kiss, and instructions to make him proud.

Just before the contest started, the Mistress came to the edge of the dance floor and called me over to her.  She planted a kiss on my lips and tweaked my nipples, making sure they were nice and stiff underneath my shirt.  Looking at Heron and then back to me, she said in a firm voice, "you make US proud".

Not that they really needed to worry about making them proud.  With my competitive nature, I really don't like to lose a contest.  

Standing side by side with the other women in the competition, the music started and as did the water works.  People armed with spray bottles, began dousing us as we danced to the music.  I danced as seductively as I could, pulling at my shirt as it clung to my body.  I should mention that all I was wearing besides the shirt was a towel around my waist...with nothing else underneath.  The towel was stripped off and thrown aside, bearing all my "assets" to the club, as I continued dancing for the remainder of the song.

The music stopped and the votes were taken by audience applause.  The emcee decided that there should be a stripper pole dance off between the top three. 

And I was one of the three!

My previous experience with the pole and the lessons that the Mistress gave me a couple months ago sure came in handy.  This time when the votes were taken by audience applause, I WON!

And I came home with an extra $100 in my wallet.

Finally Here!

The pictures from our photo shoot are finally trickling in.  Four weeks of patiently waiting...and Words cannot begin to describe how excited I have been to see these!!   

Unfortunately, there are many that show our faces so I hate that I won't be able to post those but I hope you enjoy the ones I can share!

Such a simple pose but so much captured here!!

Photo taken by Depraved_Eros on Fetlife

Knowing One's Place

Seems I have competition these days for Master's attention. 

As I stand in the kitchen making dinner, I hear that all too familiar sound of the garage door letting me know Master just got home from work.

Stopping what I am doing, I take my place, kneeling down on the floor by the door so that I am the first thing he sees when he comes in. 

I wait patiently to greet each of his shoes with my kiss, which is always followed by him taking my hands and pulling me up to him for a kiss. I love this new little ritual.  

But here SHE comes again, ready to greet her Master too. 

Her eyes stare longingly at the crack of light coming from under the door.  Her ears perk because she can hear the sound of His footsteps coming from farther away than I can.

She begins pacing as she continues to wait but then stops firmly in front of me and sits down, still intent on the door.

Greedy bitch she is...tries to be the first.  Oh, we have played this game before. 

This time, without moving an inch, I softly growl two words, "Get back". 

I smile to myself when she gets up and moves away from the door, actually going off to eat her dinner and wait her rightful turn.     

I may be the boss at work, but we all know I am not the boss at home. 

However, I will be the alpha bitch!

That is...just as soon as I can keep the other dog from trying to hump me every time I sit on the floor. 

 

Life Since Loan

It's been exactly one month since the weekend of my loan.  And while Heron and I have described in great detail what happened during that weekend and directly upon my return, I haven't really discussed how we continued to cope in the days and weeks afterwards. 

I'm not typically one to need, or even desire much aftercare when it comes to most things Heron and I do.  But in this particular situation, it's probably not difficult to imagine that proper aftercare was crucial to my ability to process and accept everything that happened and to do it in the most positive way possible.  Working through all the emotions wasn't going to take just a couple of hours, or even a couple of days.  Aftercare was going to be an on-going process until it wasn't necessary anymore.

The one thing that was quite obvious after I returned on Sunday was that we needed more time together to rest and recuperate.  Heron insisted that I call in to work and take that following day off, and He did as well so He could stay home to look after me.

His process of "reclaiming" me had been yet another intense experience but from that point forward, His focus became helping to build me back up, both physically and mentally. 

The entire next week, I was required to do very little. All household chores and tasks were suspended. Any physical exertion, outside of just normal day to day activities, was reserved solely for intimacy with him. He pampered me in just about every way possible which I thoroughly enjoyed even though I tried not to get too used to it. 

We also spent more time that I can even comprehend just talking that week.  Heron wanted, or rather NEEDED, to know every last detail of my experience.  It's how He processes and being quite honest, it wasn't just me who had a lot to work through.

But there was so much, so many little details that I didn't remember until even days later.  While He knew the major highlights of my time away, the depths of the story unfolded bit by bit as my brain and body relaxed enough to regurgitate it all.  It was odd how I could be doing the most random thing and then out of the blue, some thought or memory would flash in front of me.  He was always right there ready to listen and talk about it.    

At times, the conversations between us were quite emotional.  And I am thankful he exposed that vulnerable side of Himself.  It proved to me that He didn't take His choice, or my experience, lightly and that He really was bearing the full weight of His decision. The honesty in our discussions kept me from retreating to that quiet place inside myself.  It's in that quiet place where my thoughts get confused and lost, and my mind settles into the darkness.  He was determined to keep me from going there.   

But eventually, even I grew pretty tired of thinking and talking about it.  Routine and resuming life as we knew it was what I craved.  Kneeling in front of Heron exactly one week after coming home, I expressed how I needed our structure again and He agreed it was time. 

Heron was very fond of the greeting and serving protocol that I had learned so those were implemented into our normal routine starting that second week. And with the soreness pretty much finally gone from my body, we also resumed position training.  This was something Heron was unhappy with Himself for neglecting. Not only was it a good refresher but a good way to ease my body back into light physical demands.  He kept exercise still limited though.    

We have still continued to talk about it but on a much less emotional level.  Usually it's because He has some kind of question about something I have already told him and is just looking for clarification.   Sometimes we talk about where we go from here.  I know this won't be the end of my challenges, which is a little scary.  

I think we both recognize how it has changed us and how we have grown both as individuals and as a couple.  But overall, I am amazed at the profound positive impact it's made in our relationship and our dynamic.  It's almost as if we have spent this past month in our own special bubble, nurturing the closeness that this experience brought us.

Making Master Uncomfortable

August was quite an interesting month for us. If you have been reading the past several posts, you already know about one of our recent adventures.

But I did say, way back in an earlier post, that we had TWO new experiences planned so that means I still have one to talk about.

This past Sunday, Master and I had a photo shoot.  Not just any photo shoot...a fetish photo shoot!!

And I think for once, instead of my boundaries being pushed, it was Master who was WAY out of His comfort zone.

Originally, I thought He might just be in a few of the pictures but He actually participated in almost all of them. 

I can't even begin to explain what an amazing experience this was, especially for us to do it together.

Gosh...it's making me crazy to wait to see the final results!!  Perhaps, I will even be able to share some of them when we get them back.

Fly Free (A Post By Heron)

He stared up at the beautiful slave as he sat, one leg folded over the other in the arm chair in their bedroom.  She presented herself, hands clasped behind her head, legs spread slightly apart.  Eyes downcast.  A thousand thoughts raced through his mind as she stood before him.

He had loaned her out to another for the weekend.  The Mistress that he had given her to had pushed her hard.  Tested her.  Challenged her limits. Marked her.

Had he done the right thing? What if he had failed her?  What if he had not prepared her properly for what had happened? What was the look on her face?  Was she afraid that he wouldn’t love her after the things she had done? These thoughts ran through his head as he stopped, just short of touching her.

He knew there was only one way for him to find out.  He wanted to reach out, stroke her cheek, but he didn’t think that would ease the thoughts that were bouncing around in her mind.  He wanted to release her from worry, but he wasn’t sure how.  So he did the only thing he knew how to do….

When he rose and moved towards her she flinched slightly. 

He spoke to her cruelly asking if the marks belonged to the Mistress.  She could only nod.  He touched her tits.

“Did the Mistress whip these?”

“Yes sir”, she barely whispered.

Moving behind her, he touched the bruises on her butt.  “And did she leave these?”

Again she whispered, “Yes sir.”

Circling her again, he ran his fingers along her jaw and turned her head.  “What about the bruises on your neck? Did the Mistress have other men suck on your neck?”

The first tear appeared in the corner of her eye.  Again, she whispered, “Yes sir”.

“Did the Mistress allow men in your mouth?  Did you suck cock?  Did you swallow their come?”

Even as she nodded, the tears streamed down her cheeks.

“I know what you did and how many times.  You danced for other men.  You begged for their cocks.  And then you sucked them.  Didn’t you?”

More tears and a choked “Yes sir.”

He began to fire words at her. “Do you know what the Mistress was doing?  She was passing you around.  You were nothing more than a piece of meat. As a matter of fact, you had to beg like a whore.  Right?”

She sobbed slightly, tears streaming freely.  “Yes sir.”

“You. Are. A. Whore.”

He spat the words at her.  He thought that this might be her greatest fear.  The look behind her eyes, but he wouldn't know until he spoke the cruel phrase. 

She tried to hold her position, but as she heard his words she broke and began to sob uncontrollably. 

“No”, he said forcefully, raising his voice for the first time.

“You will not cry.  I will take all of those marks back.  You belong to me and it’s time I reclaim you.”

He held her for a moment, allowing her to regain her composure.  Holding her close.

Placing her back in position, he examined her breasts and asked her what the Mistress had used to whip her tits.  When she replied, he grabbed the implement from his bag.  “I’m going to whip them harder.  These are mine”, he said simply.

He used the leather on her tits as she sobbed.  He stopped using the leather only after the breasts were an angry bright red.

Then he bent her over.  Grabbing a cane, he walked back over to her.  “Your ass is mine.  I will not stop until I have covered all of her marks.”

He struck her over and over.  She sobbed freely, but didn’t move, even as he crisscrossed her ass with welts.  

When he was satisfied that he had covered the Mistresses bruises with marks of his own, he stopped.  He could only stare at her.  She was bent over, sobbing and shaking.

“Move to the bed”, he ordered.

Sobbing softly, she did as required.

He positioned her and traced the barely visible words on her stomach.  “What did this say,” he asked, even though he knew the answer.  For the Mistress had written two words on her midriff.  The words noted her for what she was. She had been required to parade around with it all day for everyone to see. 

She could barely bring herself to say the words, “Cum slut, sir.”

He grabbed a marker and moved next to her.  He wrote over the words to supply his own…Heron’s nyghtbird. She couldn’t help but smile, as he said, “There.  Now I own that as well.”

He traced the bite marks on her thighs.  She winced in pain as he did so.  “Did she bite you?  Did she mark you with her teeth?”

“Yes,” she replied softly.

He lowered his mouth to her bruised thigh.  He kissed the wound softly and she moaned.  He took her hand and placed it on the side of his face.  “This is going to hurt.  I’m taking that bite mark as my own and it may make you scream.  I want you to push me away when the pain is too much.”

He looked at her once and then his teeth covered the bruise.  He heard her cry out, not caring how much it hurt her.  Harder and harder he bit, waiting for her to push him away.  His teeth dug into her and he felt her hand on his face begin to move.

To his surprise, she cupped the back of his head and pulled him down harder on the wound.  He increased the intensity and heard her gasp in pain, but still she held him to her flesh.   Finally, afraid that he would draw blood, he pulled himself away from her and stared at her.

She was panting, but he understood the look in her eyes all too well.

He moved on top of her.  She moaned softly and greedily as he slowly slid himself into her. 

Then he grabbed her head and turned, exposing the marks on her neck. Whispering softly, he said, “Your neck is mine.”

He lowered his mouth to the bruises. She gasped as she felt his lips touch her neck.  First he kissed the marks softly, then biting and finally sucking hard on her neck.  Once he was satisfied that he had covered the bruises with his own, he turned her head the other way and lowered his mouth to her again.

Then he was sucking and biting again in an attempt to erase all traces of the men who had marked her.

Finally satisfied, he turned her head to face him.  “Look at me,” he ordered.

She faced him, barely able to look in his eyes.  

“All of the marks that were made have been covered with mine.  There is nothing that you did, that you weren’t supposed to do.  You were required to obey.  To submit.  My marks will erase any guilt, for there should be none.  My marks take away any self-doubt, for you were required to serve her.  My marks take away any thought that I would not love you. Do you understand?”

She nodded.  Tears began to fill her eyes once again.

“Do not cry my love,” he whispered as he kissed her softly.  He moved his hand underneath the small of her back and pulled her tightly to him. He began to kiss her again and again.  She responded hungrily.

Their bodies began to move together.  A harmonic dance they’ve practiced thousands of times before.  He knew her body well and could tell she was nearing her climax.  “When you orgasm,” he said to her, “You are my cumslut.  You are my whore. You were not marked by anyone but me.  You are mine!”

With his words, her orgasm neared, “Please sir may I come, “she cried out.

“Fly free my nyghtbird,” he whispered softly in her ear.

And she did.

Coming Home

Continued from The Long Night and the Girl at the Club: this slave's account of being loaned for the weekend.  

Thoughts consumed my mind as I drove home late that Sunday morning.  His instructions were to be home no later than noon and the last thing I wanted to do was displease Him by starting off with a punishment for being late. 

After being completely naked for two days, it almost seemed odd to be wearing clothes again.  Every part of my body, from my jaws to my ankles, ached and was fatigued.  But all I wanted was to be in my Master's arms, to know that I had made Him proud and that everything between us would be okay. 

As I looked at myself in the rear view mirror, I couldn't help but wonder how I was going to hide the large bruises on either side of my neck, the very obvious remnants from a game of "who could leave the largest hickey".  

I then looked down and very gently touched the swollen and extremely tender bite marks left on each of my thighs by the Mistress. They were already bruising but would be hidden more easily than the marks on my neck. 

The faded phrase "Cum Slut", my given name for the weekend, was hidden underneath my shirt.  I thought back to how the group of people in our condo had stood around watching while the words had been neatly written across my pelvis and how I had been required to wear my humiliating name all day Saturday so that everyone at the pool would know who I was.  I felt a bit protected hiding behind sunglasses but apparently that wasn't disguise enough. People still stared and some even asked, "are you the girl from the club last night?"
         
But overall, Saturday was tame by comparison to Friday night, and for that, I was thankful.  I had been unable to fall asleep after all that had happened so I was running on nothing but fumes and the last reserves of adrenaline.

My gut instinct was that she was planning something else big for that night.  I stayed on pins and needles all day and my stomach churned from the lack of sleep and the thought of what was to come. Not only was I afraid of being the entertainment yet again, but this time I feared being used even harder and longer than the night before and with no rest, I wasn't sure I would be able to handle it. 

As luck would have it, everyone else was exhausted too and ended up relaxing for the evening. 

While I spent the day still technically "in service", following protocol and rules, the mood was much more relaxed.  It was nice just spending some time together with the Mistress more as friends.

In case you ever get the chance, playing naked Twister is actually a whole lot of fun!

I was also the afforded the opportunity to provide some pleasure to the Mistress.  A couple of times actually!

And when joining the Mistress and her boyfriend in bed that night, they requested that I put on a little show just for them.  Normally, I would have felt uncomfortable masturbating in front of someone else, especially in such an up-close and personal kind of way. But I guess after everything else I had already done, it just didn't seem like a big deal at that point and was actually quite enjoyable.

Laying on the bed, I played with my pussy as the Mistress required.  After I had been pleasuring myself for several minutes, the Mistress and her boyfriend began fucking right there beside me.  The thought of them watching me, while I watched them, was incredibly erotic and pushed me right over the edge of an earth shaking orgasm.       

All the images from the weekend, both the pleasurable and the painful, played out in my head over and over again as I drove.  Being the perfectionist that I tend to be, I even thought of the ways I could have been better.  But everything seemed almost surreal.  It was quite a lot to process and it was obviously going to take time before I knew how I really felt about it all. 

The house was quiet when I walked in the door.  Looking for Master, I climbed the stairs, my sore legs reminding me of the exertions of the weekend.  I found Him waiting, sitting in the armchair in our bedroom.  As I approached Him, He stopped me with an icy tone in His voice.

I wasn't expecting to see such darkness in His eyes. 

The Long Night and the Girl at the Club

Continued from Primed for the Night: this slave's account of being loaned for the weekend...

Even though her eyes were downcast, she could feel the weight of their stares as she walked, guided by the leash, into the club following behind the Mistress.  The club was still part of the clothing optional resort but it seemed everyone else chose to wear clothes, making her keenly aware of her condition.

Just to the right, after walking through the door, was a small little area with a couple of couches and a stripper pole in between.  The Mistress removed the leash and insisted on seeing her dance.  Again, this was something she had never done before and didn't even know how to begin working the pole.

When it became obvious that she had no idea what to do, the Mistress hopped on the platform, wrapped her hand around the pole and showed her a few sexy moves. The two woman briefly danced around the pole together before the Mistress stepped back down, letting the slave take back over. 

The slave couldn't help but notice that while they had been tucked away fairly alone, others were starting filter over to that area and watch.  She wasn't sure how well she was dancing but she was having fun. And the only unfortunate part was that the plug she was wearing had become quite distracting, threatening to pop out every single time she squatted or bent over.

Moving on to the bar and main dance floor area, the slave stood close by the Mistress but was quickly sent away to ask the DJ specifically for stripper music.  She wasn't in danger of having to strip since she was already not wearing clothes but the Mistress had her remain on the dance floor.  Alone on the dance floor, with plenty of people watching from the bar, she began seductively dancing as the Mistress demanded.

The Mistress began sending her to find men sitting alone and had her dance for them. Some of the men appreciated the show, while others did their best to look away.  This made her even more self-conscious and uncomfortable.

Then came an unexpected task for the evening.  As the Mistress said the words, the slave almost couldn't believe what she was hearing. She would not be allowed to go to sleep that night until she had brought two men to orgasm.  

After the slave had danced for several men, the Mistress made her first move to initiate something more.  As she was dancing for one man in particular, the Mistress introduced her as "cum slut".  He was so confused and could not understand the name he had heard.  Both women tried to explain several times what the slave was.

But when the Mistress asked the man if he wanted his dick sucked, he didn't hesitate for a moment.  Moving outside the club near the pool, before the slave could suck his cock, she was expected to beg for it.

What she realized in that moment is that it is one thing to be commanded to do something, even if it is humiliating.  It is quite another to actively participate in one's own humiliation and degradation. 

She knelt down on the concrete, scraping her knees, and took his cock in her mouth.  As it hardened,  the Mistress grabbed the back of her head, forcing her up and down on it in an effort to make her gag.

After only a few minutes, the Mistress stopped her.  It was as if she enjoyed leaving the man with blue balls. The slave was made to find someone else.  Once again, the slave had to beg, and once again another cock was in her mouth.    

With the Mistress affording each man very little time, and emotionally toying with them as much as she was the slave, it wasn't until the third guy that the slave was finally rewarded for her efforts and swallowed her first of two loads.  What the slave didn't know at the time was this man had heard from a friend about "the girl at the club" and had raced down purposely seeking her services.

Making their way inside the second club on the property, the slave and Mistress danced together.  Coincidentally, Girls Just Wanna Have Fun began playing.  It was a song that they had sung karaoke at a different place and time.  Even though she was still leashed, the slave and Mistress laughed and danced in the crowded room like a couple of young girls.

How quickly things took a turn.

They made their way to a pair of couches and yet another stripper pole.  Only this time, instead of the pole being tucked away in the corner, it was the focal point of the room.  She was again made to pole dance, only this time, she tried not to look out and notice the sea of people watching. Thankfully, the plug that had restricted her movements before had been removed and she was able to move about gracefully.

The Mistress caught her eye and made her turn and face the crowd.  The slave was ordered to play with herself.  Burning under the lights and the stares of dozens of men and women, the slave closed her eyes, leaned back against the pole and began touching herself.

It had only been a few moments when the Mistress signaled her over to where she was sitting.  She was told to lay over the Mistress's lap.  With her ass in the air, the slave was paddled in front of the entire club.

Pointing to the men sitting on the adjacent couch, she was made to choose a cock to suck. Walking over to the sofa, she chose the man sitting to the far left and begged to please him. He unzipped his pants and the slave took his cock in her mouth.   

Even as the man was enjoying her pleasure, the Mistress made the slave stop.  Only this time, instead of sending her to another man, the Mistress ordered the slave back over to her.  She ordered the slave to kneel between her legs.  Lowering her head, she pleasured the Mistress knowing all eyes in the room were on them.

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When they all returned to the condo, the slave asked to check in with her Master as it was late and they hadn't spoken since she arrived.  Walking outside where it was quiet, she heard the sound of his voice and all of the the emotions she had suppressed throughout her ordeal threatened to burst forth.  Her voice trembled when he asked her if she was alright.

She tried to assure him that she was okay but the quiver in her voice said otherwise.  She let her Master know the night had been more intense than she had anticipated and she was exhausted from the demands of the past seven hours.

The Mistress came outside and sat down on the step beside her.  Her Master and the Mistress began conversing on speaker phone. And as the Mistress began telling her Master the things she had been doing, she made the slave affirm each statement  The slave could barely answer "Yes, Ma'am", as she wilted with each question.

Before the Mistress ended her conversation, she let the Master know the slave was still not done completing her obligations for the night.  She reminded the slave that she was required to make two men cum before she could go to bed and she wasn't done with her task. She let the slave know that she was going to have to go into the living room and please the two men staying there.  Fatigued and defeated, the slave whimpered "Yes, Ma'am".

She hung up the phone and walked into the living room to please the men waiting there.
________________________________________________________________

Thirty minutes later, she stumbled into the Mistress's bedroom anticipating sleep but the Mistress and her boyfriend had other ideas. The slave doesn't remember how many times she came.  She was used for their pleasure for nearly two more hours.

Nyghtbird-The Girl at the Club (photo taken by the Mistress)