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.

A Question of Title

I don't know how many others have experienced this, or how many people knew this about me, but I had such a hard time in the beginning referring to my husband as Master.  It was one of the most uncomfortable things I have ever had to make myself say.  Later, when He insisted on me calling Him Daddy, well that certainly didn't come any easier, probably harder in all honesty.  

I'm so glad one of my readers asked me about this the other day. He explained that his sub was very shy about calling him Master and he was wondering if I had ever felt this way.  This is absolutely something I can relate to and his question made me really stop and think about the reason why.

First off, as a child, I wasn't raised to use a names of respect such as Sir or Ma'am for anyone.  There were times my father would command me to call him Sir, but that was only when He was in a foul mood or mad at me. So...like any normal kid, I was pretty much like efff that! The way I looked at it, he had done little as a father to earn my respect and Sir WAS NOT coming out of my mouth just because he wanted to put me in my place at that particular moment.

So, I know for me, respect plays a big part. 

However, I think the biggest hurdle I had to overcome was that verbal acknowledgement of having a lower status. It was one thing for Him dominate me, humiliate me, and even say it himself but it was another for me to set my pride aside and say it myself.  

So what finally made it easier?

Well mostly writing it here in my blog.  Being forced to say it over and over again in the bedroom, when I was most vulnerable and pliable. also helped.  And really, I had called Him by His name or some other term of endearment for 20 years.  So learning to call Him something different just took time.  

Outside the bedroom though...He just isn't one to be overly concerned with titles. 

Thank you for the question!

Revisting Maintenance Spankings

This week brought the return of daily maintenance spankings.  And I suspect they will continue for some time.

When He gets home from work, I am to greet him as usual.  Either before we eat dinner or directly after, just depends on how hectic things are at the moment, I am to go upstairs in the closet, pull my pants to my ankles, and wait for Him and whatever implement He has chosen for that day. 

Much to my surprise, I received my maintenance yesterday as well, even though it was Saturday. He hadn't specifically made a provision for the weekends but I guess we are clear that this is a daily occurrence as long as He desires it to be.

Anyways, this week, I noticed something.  Actually, I had noticed it before but never wanted to ask about it. 

Friday evening, after coming in from from work, the kids were already gone with friends and the house was quiet.  He gave me that look and pointed for me to head upstairs.  I went in the closet, and as He had every day this week, He instructed me to pull my pants down and assume the position. 

And afterwards, just like every other day, when the spanking was done, He said for me to pull my pants back up and walked out without a touch of affection. 

Being that this was a Friday night and a night I am not usually expected to cook, He told me to get ready so we could go get dinner.  While we were out, I just had to know, not because I was questioning His methods but because I just really wanted to understand.  I sheepishly sat across the table from Him, stumbling around on my words, until He got frustrated and told me to just speak whatever was on my mind. 

Finally, I asked...what, if anything, does He get out these maintenance spankings??

I didn't really want to describe them as "cold" and "unfeeling" but that's kinda what it seemed like to me.  I know that I shouldn't place any expectations on His actions but I really started to wonder why there is no outward show of emotion from Him before, during, or directly after.  It all had the feel of a business transaction.

His explanation actually made perfect sense and was a perspective I hadn't even considered.  It's simply how He chooses to reinforce our roles and transition after being apart all day.  As far as the "unemotional" aspect, that is done with intention. 

The goal of maintenance is still very much about reconnecting, but for Him, maintenance isn't about play. It isn't about passion. It's about "I am the Master, you are the slave".

Shocked and Horrified

I don't know what rock I was under last week but apparently I completely missed the news story about two young Amish sisters that went missing.  This morning, I woke up, logged onto my computer and stumbled across an article about the kidnapping of these two girls.

http://news.msn.com/crime-justice/prosecutor-couple-sexually-abused-2-amish-sisters?ocid=ansnews11

To my shock and horror, their kidnappers were allegedly in a Master/slave relationship.  WHAT?!  I couldn't believe what I was reading.  Well, that's not entirely true.  I actually can believe it because the world we live in can be cruel and the things that some people do to others is just abominable.

First off, what a pathetic excuse for human beings.  I think about what those poor girls must have gone through and then I think of my own daughters.  It just makes me SICK!.  Thankfully, the girls were released and are safely back home with their families, but in the blink of an eye, their lives are forever changed.  The mental scars they are left to deal with for the rest of their lives...all I can do is shake my head and pray that somehow, someway they get the help they are gong to need and are able to find a way to cope with this tragedy.

Next off, it's just another reason people believe that what we engage is isn't "normal".  The negative stigma surrounding our lifestyle will continue to be painted by the horrible acts of the few.  This guy is no Master...he's just a sick bastard. The general public will never hear about how most of us are good people, upstanding members of society even, living a normal existence just like everyone else, working good jobs and raising a family.  They won't hear about the positive aspects of our relationships because we have to hide who we are and what we do to avoid judgement and criticism.   

As far as the female accomplice in this being abused and a victim herself, well I have some of my own thoughts on that and maybe I should reserve judgement until it is determined her level of involvement.  But I tend to be a bit cynical and not trusting.

So I will leave it at this...slave or not, you know the difference between right and wrong!!

Well I think I ought to get off my soap box now. 

Ms. Sassy Pants

Daddy made a last minute decision this week that we would take the kids out of town today, traveling several hours to meet up with some family. 

This morning came and it was the usual chaos trying to get everyone ready and out of the house.  Daddy was fussing at all us girls to hurry up and get in the car as we ran around finishing up hair and packing snacks and drinks for the ride. 

Of course, I was the last one in the car because I had to try and get the dog to go to the bathroom one more time.  With everyone waiting on me, I climbed in the mini-van, laptop in hand (because I had to blog of course) and the corner of my laptop bumped my coffee which was sitting in the middle console.

and wouldn't you know...

DROPS OF COFFEE SPLASHED OUT OF MY TRAVEL MUG AND LANDED ALL OVER HIS DRESS PANTS!!

Oh gosh, when I say He was not happy, that is an understatement!

I apologized and explained that if He cleaned it off fast enough, it wouldn't leave a stain so He disappeared into the house to clean up after my clumsiness. 

Then as we drove along, you know how it is...someone is always complaining that it's too hot, then too cold.  I reached over and tried to adjust the temperature.  Well, He fussed at me for that.

So now you are assuming what temperature I want!

Pulling back my hand, I looked at Him apologizing with a big grin on my face. 

I'm sorry...forgot that you are Master of the air.

Now, this wasn't meant as intentional disrespect.  That would not be acceptable but it was my brave little attempt to lighten the mood.  Whether he found it as humorous as I did or not is probably up for debate.  But He looked so darn handsome when He calmly readjusted His glasses with that slightly wicked grin.

Someone must really be asking for it today!

So I'm typing this while we are driving and He is wondering why the big grin on my face...

...Guess I better put Ms. Sassy Pants away and be on my very best...est behavior.  Wouldn't want to poke at the beast too much or else I'll get more than I bargained for!!


   

Daddy's Girl

As I said in my last post, a lot happened on Monday (and since) so let me start with the change from Master to Daddy, since that one seemed to come out of left field.   

Oddly, I never mentioned this Him but I had been thinking a lot lately about the Daddy dominant dynamic.  So it's a bit coincidental, and quite fitting maybe, that He chose this as one ways to put me in my place.   

Even though the word "Daddy" flows out of my mouth quite naturally around our kids,  He's always known me to be somewhat put off by any expectation He had of me using this word in other contexts. But being the mental sadist that He is, long before I even began calling Him Master, He would take great delight in watching me squirm, occasionally forcing the word "Daddy" from my mouth.  Oh, how it made me grit my teeth and want to crawl under a rock!

I am sure this goes back somehow to the relationship I have with my father.  Almost as far back as I can remember it has been strained, so naturally one might surmised that I have "Daddy" issues.  I have yet to admit that one out loud, but sadly, there is probably some truth to it.  Referring to my husband as "Daddy" never created any warm and fuzzy feelings for me, it just felt wrong.   

As I said though, lately I have found myself drawn to the idea of this firm yet loving, gentle, and nurturing type of dominance.  In fact, even though our dynamic had become somewhat stagnated, He was still very much taking care of me and our family.  The undercurrents of D/s were there but He seemed softer towards me and it almost seemed more fitting to think of Him more as a Daddy than a Master.   

So Monday, I stood naked in front of Him, with a reminder to cast my eyes downward.  Without being allowed to speak or question, He listed off several areas in which my obedience to His expectations had slipped.  Things that for one reason or another, just got put by the wayside. He didn't even have to finish the list...the point was well made...and well received.   

My privilege to refer to Him as Master or Sir was stripped away until otherwise notified.  When the setting is appropriate for me to do so, I am only to refer to Him as "Daddy". 

Now, I am pretty sure He might have meant this as a punishment (or a humiliation) of sorts, and yes, it did certainly sting because He was pointing out my short comings.  But with my recent curiosity about this dynamic, I didn't mind as much as I would have in the past.  Plus, I can say this in front of our kids and no one is the wiser. 

My only conundrum is while He is being so hard on me right now, "Daddy" doesn't necessarily feel quite fitting. 

Uggg...so confusing! 

But, I guess little by little, the whole concept is growing on me. It still feels a bit weird hearing "Daddy" come out of my mouth but apparently my brain is adapting to the idea...

and well...it seems to make other parts of me wet... so I guess she is adapting too!

"Slave Driver"

A couple weekends ago, Master and I did a kick-ass workout together.  Oh my gosh, it was so brutal!  He pushed both our bodies to near exhaustion but it really felt great to accomplish something like that together.   

When we were done, He told our oldest that she should have worked out with us. 

Her response, "No way...you're a SLAVE DRIVER!"

I couldn't help but burst out laughing.  Out of the mouths of babes, right? 

Ha..ha...if she only knew!!

When He Walks In

 

A thought occurred to me today when I heard the garage door go up signaling that Master was home from work. 

I fall in love with this man every day when He walks in that door.

I mean He does look really HOT when He walks in still dressed in His suit and tie.  Well sometimes the tie and jacket are already off and His sleeves are rolled up.  Ahhh...sleeves rolled up!  There is something about the rolled up sleeves that really gets to me.  Ok, sorry...kind of getting sidetracked there:)

But it's so much more than that.   

Something so simple that I used to take for granted. 

Greeting Him when He walks in the door.  The connection that is made just in that momentary exchange sets the tone for the whole evening.    

I didn't do that prior to M/s.  In fact, most of the time, I hardly acknowledged His arrival home as I ran around trying to manage the chaos of just getting home from work myself, preparing dinner, and working on homework with the kids.  I hate to admit it but He usually wore the verbal and emotional brunt of my frustration as soon as He walked in.  Nice greeting home...huh?

No more though.  When He comes in, I am usually in the middle of dinner preparations but it doesn't stop me from walking over to Him and offering a kiss and welcoming Him home. 

This ritual, that literally last just a few moments, reminds me how thankful I am that He comes home to be with ME each and every day.

I now feel like one of the kids or dogs...everyone's happy when Daddy's home!

My Master's Point of View

Master and I have done some talking lately about the direction of my blog and He asked me to write this post today.  He intends to begin making occasional posts which I am so excited about not only because He is an amazing writer but I love to hear things from His perspective.

For the most part, He is very a quiet person, a man of very few words.  You probably haven't even seen Him comment here.  So, getting such a rare, personal peek into His mind is quite humbling to me. 

I think He already has some ideas of things He would like to share but feel free to suggest topics or ask questions about anything you that may be interesting in hearing about from His point of view.

So, I would like to introduce you all to my Master.  Feel free to refer to Him as Heron. 

"Working" Wardrobe

Thank you for this question from Anonymous...

 

Your recent post discussed your career and possible new job opportunities. How do you manage your professional life and the standard every day wardrobe (or lack there of) requirements of your master?

10. I cannot wear bra or panties unless permission is granted otherwise.

11. All outfit choices must be approved and unless permission is given otherwise, must be a skirt or dress, and if stockings are worn they must be thigh highs or garters.

 

At first, I thought this would be difficult expectation to fulfill but it just requires a little common sense, communication, and compromise on certain occasions, such as my recent interview or other formal meetings. 

 

Getting permission for certain outfit choices usually isn't a big deal because He typically buys all the clothes I wear anyways.  Each Christmas, He pretty much buys me an entire wardrobe of matching outfits, sometimes with shoes and accessories even.  He makes sure to include outfits for all different occasions, including work.  I know if He's picked it out, He likes it.   

 

I have to admit though, I am glad that you pointed out rule #11 because I realize I have been pretty remiss in laying out my outfit choices in advance for His approval. He hasn't said anything but I might ought to check in with Him on this specific rule:) 

 

With the clothes I have for work, it's fairly easy to hide what's under (or not under) since Master allows me to maintain a professional image as far as the style of clothes I wear to work.  

 

In winter, I have blanket permission to wear pants as I see fit.  When I wear pants, I may also wear panties.  I sometimes wear skirts in the winter but they are always long enough to conceal the fact that I am wearing thigh highs and no panties.  In the summer, I almost always wear skirts and even though I am bare legged with heels, my skirts are still long enough so that no one would suspect my panty-less status. 

 

As far as tops, I pretty much wear the same thing during the winter and summer.  They are usually somewhat conservative and the fact that I don't have on a bra can simply be concealed by wearing a light sweater or cover, which works just about any time of the year considering how cold it stays in my building year round. 

 

My Master does understand the professional position that I am in and tries very hard to make sure that I am not put into any situation that could jeopardize my status.

 

When I had the job interview, He knew I would be wearing my pant suit and I asked Him on that occasion if I could also wear a bra.  The key phrase in my rules is "unless permission is granted".  So it is really up to me to weigh the situation and if there needs to be consideration made for a certain situation, I just ask.  

 

 

 

 

 

Round 2 of Answers: Banned Implements, Swallowing, and Blogging

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Swallow: For a Better Night of Sleep

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Mending Fences

It kind of goes without saying that this has been a week of reflection for us both.  We have spent quite a bit of time just being...relaxing together, catching up on the new show True Detective and talking about things a little at a time.

It upsets me that recent events threatened to unravel the fabric of our dynamic, but sometimes as unsettling as it can be, re-evaluation is necessary and in the end, hopefully helps us both to grow.

The issue was servicing others or being "loaned out" and it's not something I take lightly. I constantly struggle with the idea of it and always worry about any risks that could be introduced into our marriage and cause permanent damage.  While I had done it once in the past and did enjoy the experience, this time, the circumstances felt all wrong. I think He realizes that now as well.  Had I respectfully expressed my concerns at the time, He would have understood and agreed.  

Now, I don't consider myself at all bratty. He would never tolerate that. However, I admit to requiring a bit of affection and attention along with A LOT of reassurance.  Without proper attention given to the maintenance of our dynamic, the lack of intimacy and connection over the past few months have left me frustrated and feeling neglected, only working to steadily fuel my self-doubt and insecurities.  Rather than talk to Him about these issues, I withdrew into myself, hoping not to burden Him further.

I knew the moment He issued the order, I was far from the appropriate headspace and following through might very well have put my mental state in jeopardy.  Besides being angry, my first thought was he's too busy to want or need me for Himself so He is casting me aside and sending me elsewhere.   I needed Him and the security only He could provide me, not to be given away.

So, where are we now?

We know this isn't something that we want to give up.  It's not just something we do, it's who we are now.  We haven't been able to go about our days without feeling like something was just...missing.
 
He is determined to make more time for us so that our dynamic is fed and maintained because I need to feel His ownership.  It wouldn't be fair to expect me to meet all His needs, if I am left feeling that mine are not being met. 

We have discussed the issues I have with expectations of servicing other men and while I am not completely off the hook, He has offered me a reasonable compromise.

At this point, the ball is in my court.  The choice...whether I will accept the terms of my surrender with the understanding that if I disobey again, it will most definitely be the end of the dynamic.

 
Oh but there will be a little matter of punishment that I am due. Yikes...scary thinking how bad it's going to be, given that I stand accused of committing the cardinal sin in His book!

Decisions...decisions 

                

Now We Wait

 

 

Wait to talk about it...

 

Wait to see if we renegotiate our agreement...

 

Wait to see wait to see if we end our dynamic...

He needs time and space to figure out how, or if, we proceed.  His concern is that my disobedience will open the door to challenging Him next time. 

I don't see it that way, but it's not for me to see and not for me to decide.  I only know that as His slave, I am not afforded the choice to pick and choose the things in which I submit.  I submit as He desires and up to this point I always have, even when it has been most difficult. 

So what do you when you reach a point when you know you can't, or won't rather? 

I guess we all find out if pushed to that point.

Hopefully, there will be a way to work it out but if my continuing to be His slave hinges on my ability to follow through with this one thing, then I guess I have to prepare myself for the dynamic to end.

As sad as it makes me, I don't regret bringing the issue to light.  I only regret that it may have damaged the mutual trust we have in each other as Master and slave.

Luckily, our marriage is solid so we will be fine either way but it would just be different to go back.     

As of right now, I have been relieved of any and all of my duties and "obligations".  My collar is put away and I am free to be my own person.   

I cried a lot yesterday and felt like a little lost puppy trying to find ways to occupy my time and keep my brain from spinning in circles. 

It seemed weird after almost a year, to actually have the freedom to put on one my one of my beautiful bras but I have so been missing them.  So that was the first thing I did with my new found freedom. 

Thanks to everyone who reached out with support and encouragement.  I will keep you posted. 



 

Time for a Reset

I have been trying so hard to pull out of this funk I am in.

Every time I would try to sit and write, my thoughts were so jumbled, the words just failed me.  It was easier to simply close the computer and walk away.   I was at the point were something had to give, and apparently it was my writing.  I have probably 5 different posts that I started but never finished so hopefully I will get back to those.

Privacy...don't even know what that is anymore.  Struggles with our youngest munchkin have left us almost no time to spend together. 
The weeks leading up to Christmas were indeed stressful, especially since I couldn't muster the motivation to get things in order early.  I'm not typically a procrastinator but have I ever mentioned I do my best work at the last minute?  Every year I tell myself that I am going to plan better the next year but our fall schedules just seem to prevent that from happening.   

As hard as it was, we have been trying to maintain some semblance of our dynamic but were both left so frustrated.   I continued to do all the things He asked of me but the physical aspect of our D/s just wasn't there (the training, punishments, spankings, etc.).  I never imagined that I would miss spankings so much.  Shhhh...don't tell Him I said that!

All day every day, I felt so numb and disconnected, like I was just going through the motions.  I wanted nothing more than to count the hours until I could be with Him and doing what pleased Him.  But then left disappointed because circumstances continually dictated that we put ourselves on the back burner. 

We did have a wonderful Christmas though and it's like I have this huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders.  I can finally think more clearly.  All the family functions are over, the presents are put away and my house is back in order.  Something else about me...clutter and mess REALLY makes me anxious.  Yesterday I spent the whole day cleaning out all the rooms and filling up the truck with load after load of stuff to take to Goodwill.  It feels so good to look around and see things so neat and tidy.

Master must be feeling the weight lifted as well because He announced yesterday that come the New Year, we will hitting the reset button.  He intends to get back to training and has already given me some new "resolutions" for the coming year.  This was exciting news but also scary since things have been so relaxed between us lately. 

So...here's to hitting the reset button!! 

    

Take a Step Back

A question I see often is how can a submissive acknowledge and show respect to her Dom in public without being overly obvious.  

Walking behind is one way that I show respect to my Master.  Maybe not always as far behind as the lady in this picture but you get the idea.

Whether we are out shopping or out for a stroll, I remind myself to keep one step behind to His left side.  Occasionally, He may reach out to hold my hand and I understand that He wishes for me to walk with Him but that is only on His terms and not something for me to initiate.   

As I follow His lead, my eyes, for the most part, remain on Him so if He slows or stops I can adjust my pace accordingly so as to not get ahead. 

It took some getting used to but taking a step back was really such a simple unspoken gesture...

Spicy or Regular

And I am not referring to sex...even though I'm pretty sure most of us would choose spicy for sure!

I am talking about pulling up at the Chick-fil-A drive thru the other day and Master says...

Your only choice is spicy or regular.

Well damn...I was actually going to get a salad.  

I simply answer spicy and He places my order for the spicy chicken deluxe combo.  

Food is not something that Master has exercised too much control over.  I have a pretty good grasp of what to eat, what not to eat, and exactly how much.  Sadly though, my relationship with food stems from years of eating disorders.  While sitting in that drive thru line, accepting that He was ordering for me, I reflected on my past and how it came to be that I was lucky enough to recover and how comforting it was, and still is, to give Him the control of something that had controlled me for a very long time.  

Poor self-image and control issues left me battling anorexia and bulimia throughout my teenage years.  When I hit my rock bottom, I was only 85 pounds and very sick.  I began the slow climb towards recovery, only because I knew that if I didn't, it would kill me.  Not long after my recovery, at 19 years old, I met the man I would eventually marry and who is now my Master.  

In the beginning, we were just like any normal boyfriend/girlfriend, learning everything there was to know about each other.  I remember sitting in His car one day and I confessed to my very personal battle with food and eating disorders. 

He sympathized and understood my struggle, but also informed me in no uncertain terms that if He ever suspected a relapse, He would take my ass straight to the hospital.  Since that time, I've always wanted to maintain a healthy weight but never again had any thoughts of turning down that path of self-destruction. Looking back, I think that was probably my first act of submission to Him.  

But twenty years later, my eating habits still tend to drive Him a bit nuts.  When we go out, He usually rolls His eyes and scoffs when I order because it's usually a salad or something on the lighter fare.  It's not that I diet or deny myself any particular food but I am very focused on portion control and shy away from eating junk or fast food.  More often than not, even if I do have a craving for something particularly bad, I will talk myself into the healthier option by the time I place my order.  


So, besides the fact that I think it was just hot and sexy when He ordered for me, I found a certain freedom in not making that decision. I didn't feel responsible for making the "right" food choice.  I ate what He chose for me simply because it's what He wanted and I didn't feel the slightest bit guilty or think oh I shouldn't have. 

























 

        

KOTW: Thoughts on Being Collared

Had anyone told me even 2 years ago that I would be involved in an M/s relationship I would have thought that person was crazy.  I surely would have thought that person even more crazy had they suggested that I would willingly and proudly wear a symbol of ownership, such as a collar.

We began our D/s journey in June 2012 and it all began with a contract.  I know contracts are highly debated and I don't intend to get into that here but it's what worked for us.  At that time, outside of wearing a collar during play, there was no mention of collaring or even developing a Master/slave relationship.

Honestly, when I first submitted to Him, I didn't even know there was even such a thing as collaring.  Once I did find out, I certainly wasn't interested in wearing something that I thought was more appropriate on a dog.  Wearing a permanent sign of ownership...nope...not for me.   

After about 6 months, the D/s lifestyle was iffie for us, we struggled quite a bit.  We didn't want to give up but soon came to the realization that we both needed to make a larger commitment to ourselves and to each other.  Around January of this year, we began shifting into a Master/slave dynamic and I really made a concerted effort to better educate myself in all aspects of slavery.

I had experienced the positive impact submission had on our relationship so my walls and negative perceptions related to being owned had already begun to crumble.  Soon, I wanted nothing more than to be considered His slave and I remember reading something on Fet that sparked my interest in collaring.  The idea of wearing a "day" collar, one that could worn in the vanilla world but carried the same intent, intrigued me.  Master was pleased when I mentioned this to Him because He had apparently already been putting some thought into collaring me.

Earning His collar would not come easily though.  I would endure months of training, which is another highly debated topic that I don't intend to get into here.  He intended for training to push me, push my boundaries, and mold me into exactly the slave He wanted me to be.  Only then, would I be worthy of wearing His collar.

Collaring Ceremony


The 3 days leading up to collaring were by far the toughest, meant to push my boundaries on many different levels.  After our last session was over and I was dressed and ready to go out to dinner, Master called me upstairs.  My gut was telling me what was about to happen but I didn't want to get my hopes up.  Then I saw the candles lit and the glow of the collar sitting in front of me as I walked into the room.  One of the things I love about Him, is how diabolical and sadistic He can be on one hand, and so thoughtful and romantic on the other.

He had designed this moment so beautifully and it will be one that I will never forget.  He asked me to remove my clothes and kneel at His feel as I felt the smooth metal of the collar locking  around my neck, signifying to us both that I belong to Him completely.

He had something prepared that He wanted to say...some vows so to speak.  The short version is that He promised to guide and protect me, honor my feelings and needs, and tend to my happiness, health, and well-being.  I, in turn, accepted to follow Him on this journey, and to serve and belong to Him. 

Then He began read to me an excerpt from a book and I could no longer hold back my tears.   

The story told of  a man becoming completely "intoxicated" by the song of a Nightbird.  The sound of this Nightbird consumed his thoughts and so "enraptured" him that it consumed his soul.

Choking up as He spoke (which let me say does not happen typically), He whispered to me you are my Nightbird.

This private moment, which was exactly one year to the day of us signing our original contract, was more special and emotional for us both than the day we exchanged our wedding vows 18 years ago.         

The front is engraved with the words..."Owned by Heron"

The back is engraved with the words..."As I Own His Heart".

Obviously, this isn't a collar I can wear in the vanilla world so we went the next day to purchase a Pandora bangle bracelet which I wear every day.  I love the idea of being able to add charms that will have special meaning just for us and of course my first was His birthstone.

What an amazing journey this has been so far!  What an amazing man/Husband/Master I belong to!


  
This is my first writing for KOTW but the topic was so near and dear to my heart, I knew I had to post an entry. I had blogged several months ago about my collaring ceremony so I transferred some of the text to this post.