Girl of all Seasons

The Return...

2010-02-06T10:25:00.000-08:00

Yes, it's been a year since I posted anything but I'm alive and well enough. I will be posting to my blog but not right away. A lot has happened to me of course in the past year and some of it will be of interest I guess, the erotic stuff no doubt *grins*

Right now I have to say thanks to those who left messages expressing their concern. Thank you. I am fine but events did take a turn for the worst. Well, that is how I see it now and while nothing happened to me that I didn't consent to, but with hindsight, I have to wonder if I didn't get brainwashed somewhat. But that is a long story and I am not in the frame of mind to tell it now.

So, the wanderer returns. Stay tuned.

Message past on from Wendy

2009-02-07T08:28:00.000-08:00

My name is Cala and I am a friend of Wendy. She called me today and ask me to make this comment to her blog. She says she is safe and sorry to the people who have left unanswered comments. She will answer them and write about what has been happening as soon as she can get to her own pc. Thank you for understanding.

In Spain..

2008-12-17T14:17:00.000-08:00

I haven't been able to post and I have just moments to type this after slipping away from my Mistress. My Master sent me away to Spain under the lady fixer's charge. It's another long story but I haven't been allowed out alone or access to a phone or internet. I have not been hurt though I just have to obey or loose everything. Master feels I have become a liability and some slave girl told her Master that I had asked all sorts of questions about the group and Master was informed. I didn't get a beating or any punishment like that because, as he put it, this is no game now. He no longer trusts me and I was told to leave or cooperate with his orders which where that I would be taken to Spain and kept there until he decides if he will finally abandon me. Mistress has put me through hell with all the questions. They are seriously worried by what I might know which is actually very little but they want to be sure. I have to go. They are searching for me.

My Little Gypsy...

2008-11-27T21:46:00.000-08:00

It has been quiet these past few days. Master has been coming home late and, given he is a very tired man, I have not put pressure on him to pay me very much attention. Rather I have busied myself sorting my wardrobe and treated myself to a trip to the massage parlour with my close friend whom I met up with in London for a gossipy girlie day. Other than that I have been doing very little else but sleeping, writing and day dreaming.

Well, I did do something else because, you see, I can't go long without sex and it's funny how you remember things like sexual encounters when one is going through their clothes. It would seem every garment has a story to tell and, as I have a passion for vintage clothes, so many of my dresses are actually quite old and I only seem to throw stuff away when, in the past, some guy has upset me. But, surprisingly, there is one dress I have that is over twenty years old and carries special memories from my misspent youth. It is just a simple A line dress, low cut and a little bit of white lace fringing top and bottom. It is cotton with a floral print. The colours are a mix of autumn browns and pastel shades of orange and yellow with a touch of green thrown in as if the leaves of summer were still holding out before the glorious gold's and reds of the fall bathe the canopy of the forest. It reminds me so much of New England in the fall and I call it my little gypsy.

I couldn't resist trying it on again and it was great that I could still get into it after all these years. Not a bad figure for a 41 year old, going on 42, I was thinking! I gave a twirl as I checked it in the full length mirror and giggled feeling so much younger than my years. I brought my hands up to cup my breasts then smoothing the material I slid my fingers down to my small waist and, turning a little to check the rear, brought my hands down over my hips and over my bottom before slightly gathering up the skirt and shaking it so the lacy hem teased my gaze.

Then I also got to thinking about it's history and before long I was leaning against the wall with the skirt hem lifted and my hand in my knickers. I was stroking and thinking back to a time when I was working in an office somewhere in East London. I had not been in that job long and yet so much happened in such a short space of time, I can't help but look back at it as one of those times of awakening, when you experience new things that tell you something about yourself.

There is, of course, a down side to the story because it was the first job I ever got the sack from too. When I joined the firm I was a flighty little thing, giggly and bubbly as your girls are and very quickly became popular with the guys. All of them wanted me and I knew it so I had my pick really. However, I was good and did try hard to concentrate on my job which was not easy when blokes are whispering suggestive remarks in your ear and stopping you in the corridor constantly coming on to you. There was one particular lad I remember well and I don't think a day went by when he didn't manage to grab hold of me or pinch my bum. He really was the typical office pest and it would have been easy to brush him off if he hadn't been so good looking and witty. But I secretly had my eyes on another anyway. In fact, I had a real crush on this other man but he was a no no for he was the office manager, probably married (I never really knew) and actually a partner in the firm. He was a young guy, handsome, dark and tall - every girls dream I guess. But anyway, I loved how he spoke down to me. He was quite stern actually and it gave me goose pimples and tummy butterflies whenever he called me into his office. But even if I thought I might stand a chance, which I didn't, I knew it would have made me the boss's pet and that might not have gone down well with the rest. But it didn't stop me fancying him like my life depended on it.

So, I had a good job and plenty of attention and it really did come as a shock to me when I got fired, and the reason still leaves me baffled to this day. You see, one fine day I was busy minding my own business and doing my job when I happen to take a tea break and went to the little kitchenette off the corridor. I was making a cup of tea when who should walk in but the office pest and, of course, he was all over me straight away. He had me alone. At first he just played up, poking at me and pulling me about as he joked. It was playful and I took it in good spirit and fought him off with a few good punches which probably hurt me more than him. But, as these things go, he grabbed me and held me tight and started to try and kiss me. I struggled but succumbed eventually and we really began kissing quite passionately. His hands were all over me of course and, while I really did get into the kissing, I still had to fight off his hands. But I was into it by now.

Now, I honestly don't remember worrying that others could walk in on us although it must have been in the back of my mind. We had become totally absorbed, our mouths were wide open and full on with tongues lashing together. I felt his hand slide over my ass too and he grabbed at the flesh through my skirt just as it started riding up. He was dragging on the material slowly lifting it until his palm was spread over my soft round bottom. Slowly amid the passionate kissing he managed to get his fingers under the edge of my knickers pushing them down the crack of my bum while I was purring like a kitten and moving my hips seductively, grinding against his body, my mound rhythmically prodding at his thigh. I could feel his cock rising and growing hard in his trousers, the feel of which had my pussy dripping wet.

He was necking me and nibbling my ear which drove me crazy so there was no residence from me when his fingers slid down my bum and under to find the soaked neck of my vagina from the rear. He rudely pushed two big fingers in me then three and his thumb clamped my butt pressing into the soft tissue as he pulled me up to him which had me standing on the tips of my toes. My back was arched as he leaned over me while I reached down to fondle his manhood hungrily. I struggled with his zip determined to free it up and get my hand on his cock but it was not to be for he suddenly held off and suggested we find a more private spot, and I was ready to agree just as someone walked in and caught us!

Hastily, he pulled himself away and my hands darted to push down my skirt as my face flushed with embarrassment. The intruder was none other than our boss and he was furious! He ordered the lad back to the office and then looked at me with daggers, ordering, "And you Miss. Into my office now!"

Now here is the point of this little tale. The way my boss spoke to me scared the hell out of me and, given I was all fired up sexually and emotionally, I burst into tears as I hurried past him towards his office. My word I wanted to obey him and, in my frustrated state of mind I wanted him to finish off the job of fucking me too. I remember my frustration so well for as he entered the office behind me and closed the door I turned to look up to him with tearful and pleading eyes. But he ignored me and went to his desk and, while still standing, he leant down with clenched fists and rested his arms on the desk and looked at me before asking, "What the hell do you think you were doing?"

I was wiping tears from my cheeks as he spoke and weakly answered, saying, "I'm so sorry Sir. It wont happen again."

"You're damn right it wont," he grumbled and then, lecturing, "I have never in all my life seen such a wanton display of filthy behaviour. You disgust me!"

I was crying hard now and pleading, "I'm so sorry." And I was sorry, but I was also excited and the more he stormed at me the more it turned me on. I was a hopeless wreck and I couldn't say it but in the back of my mind the fact we had been caught us like that and now, in the bosses office, being told I was effectively a disgusting whore by the man I fancied most of all was having such an effect on me that I would have willingly striped off for him and prostrated myself in any position he ordered right then and there. But that was not going to happen and in his next breath he said the dreaded words. "You are fired Miss. You can pull yourself together and I want you out of the building in ten minutes flat. Get out!"

Well, I left as ordered but not before I went to the ladies room and, frigging hard, brought myself off with the most fantastic orgasm I had had to date.

On reflection I look back at that event and I know now that it was the first time I really experienced the full humiliating effect of being caught in a sexual situation. I was made to feel a whore and dirty but it turned me on and I wanted something like it to happen again. Humiliation, I realised, is a strange feeling and if I had got the sex that should have followed it would have been a fantastic experience for me. In the years to come I would experience that only a few times since normal relationships rarely are built on deeper sexual need. We meet someone and it can be exciting in itself, sex follows as a matter of course. We enjoy that and build a life out of it for better or worse but, in my experience, we are forced to suppress our deeper desires for fear of loosing the one we love or bringing shame on ourselves or those close to us. And, in a sense it is this 'other' self whom we suppress that is potentially more satisfying as it is built on forbidden desire which makes it incredibly erotic. Ordinary men, as sweet and loving as many of then can be, don't have the power to fulfil a person like me and it is probably (I think certainly) why my former relationships never lasted. I needed a special kind of man, a real man. One with the power and ability to take me and possess me. One who can control me and even humiliate me. A man that can control my deeper desires and deliver me to a place of true ecstasy. I know I have the Devil's whore in me!

All these thoughts were on my mind as my fingers stroked between my legs and slowly but surely brought myself to a beautiful orgasm. You know, I love my little gypsy and, as I removed it and lovingly placed her neatly on a hanger, I stroked the soft cotton still feeling her as part of me, part of my nature. Then I put her away and, smiling softly, wiped a single tear to the corner of my eye.

FOOT NOTE:
When I think about the story I just related I can't help thinking how unfair it was that I should have been sacked. As far as I know, the office pest didn't get fired so was all the blame put on me? I didn't even start it and, if I hadn't been such a dumb blonde at the time I'm sure I could have taken the firm to some official body for unfair dismissal. I can't help my female attraction and do I have to dress down and act like a Nun so 'innocent' men are not tempted by me? But hey oh, that was me back then. I am a different person now.

I mentioned I have been writing a lot and sure enough I got my head round Submission part 3 and found a way to split it without spoiling the continuity of the story. I also wanted to deal with give away parts that still worried me so I have two drafts now and a little more work should see Submission part 3 ready to post and part 4 to follow soon after.

The Visitor & the Rookie Master...

2008-11-21T22:44:00.000-08:00

I have a little tale to tell of my travels of the past week and I will come to that further on but let me say is so nice to be back and it was such a pleasant surprise to see the comments left for me from Master Dom and Master H. Thank you both for that and I will add something to end of this post by way of an extra response as I do like to hear from Masters and your compliments on my blog is a great boost for me. I did answer the comments anyway but first I want to mention a visitor who came calling, one whom I was not best pleased to see and promptly made myself scarce after some brief greetings and some pleasantries. Yes, you may already have guessed, it was the Master from Germany, or should I say 'Stallion' from Germany?

He seemed very pleased to see me which is probably not surprising and I did show him great respect but I was in no mood to repeat what happened so I carefully avoided the subject just in case. My Master spoke with him about a gathering of the Masters that was being planned and at one point he made a call to a certain lady Dom who you might call a fixer for he did real off some instructions and he wasn't talking to her as if she were a slave. It was very business like and there were certain essentials that were required. Master X put in a few comments while my Master spoke to the lady so I knew from all this that a gathering was being arranged. When it is to happen I have no idea yet.

I have to say it but they are a very secretive lot and I guess they need to be since some of them move in influential circles and their "other life" I am sure would cause them great humiliation and loss or reputation not to mention the damage that could be done by a public scandal in the media if anything got out. I have on a few occasions asked my Master about all this but he is never very forthcoming on the subject. The most I ever found out or could speculate on is that these men, and a few women, avoid the BDSM scene, are close knit and membership of the 'club' is strictly by invite only. Indeed, neither the slaves or the Masters start with any real background in BDSM as far as I can work out and you will see how it seems to happen as I talk now of a very recent event. You see, I met a rookie Master. He is a man with ideas but no experience and he doesn't know a thing about the club. Oh, and he is married!

What happened was that I got yet another assignment, this time in the UK, and dutifully set off to meet a certain business man but Master had given me some very detailed instructions including highlighted warnings what not to talk about. And so it was that I was particularly eager to meet this man after reading Master's notes. I arrived at his office and a pleasant receptionist lead the way for me after beaming a lovely smile and telling me I was expected. I wore a grey suite, white blouse and had my hair up so I felt I looked the part although my skirt was quite short. The man greeted me with a hand shake and offered me a chair in front of his desk then dismissed the receptionist who seemed to be lingering.

He gave me a big smiles as he sat down then asked, "Good journey?"

"Yes, thank you," I answered and returned the smile. I had, in fact, had a terrible journey but I wasn't about to go into it. Rather, I crossed my legs and lifted my brief case onto my lap and opened it. I did have some folders of design work which his company were working on and leaned forward to place them on the desk. As I leaned forward I spoke my Master's name and said, "These are the papers I am here to deliver, if you would like to check them?"

He reached out and took the folders, opened them and briefly skipped through the papers. 'All seems in order," he nodded then closed them up and looked at me momentarily but he didn't seem to be able to hold eye contact and looked down as he hesitantly attempted to change the subject. "Erm, I was speaking to your boss and he said you would..." He broke off, a look of embarrassment clearly playing on his face.

I was already reading his body language anyway and, speaking softly, I spoke up to put him at ease. "Yes, it's all right. I know what you want to talk about. May I call you Master?"

He looked back up and nodded then apologised and, still forcing out his words, he said, "Forgive me but this is difficult for me and I am new to the life style you and your friends lead."

I smiled and asked, "Is it all right to talk here?"

"Yes, it's okay," he agreed in almost a whisper, still nodding his head nervously.

You know, I couldn't see how this man got himself into this. To me, my first impressions did not have him cut out for a Master at all. My experience is that Masters are not made. They are what they are naturally just as sure as a submissive is. In a sense this man was like me, eager to know more but uncertain if it was what he really wanted. In deed, he was embarrassed by it now he had to deal with it. A natural Master would take one look at me and read my body language very quickly and, while I know most would be too polite to outright make any suggestions, they would be probing for a sign. This man knew why I was here and, if he had it in him, he should already be speaking to me with some authority in his tone.

I decided to really make it easy for him and with almost a sigh in my tone I said, "Master," and, adding his name, "Girl is grateful to you that you have honoured her and asked my Master to send me to help you in any way that I can. Would you like to tell me a little about your friendship with my Master. How you got interested in our life style?"

He agreed and, still speaking quietly, began, "We play golf you know and we got talking. One or too things came up in the conversation and I expressed an interest. I have actually always had a secret desire to be seriously dominant but I'm married and I know my wife would not cooperate with it."

I adjusted my position in the chair and uncrossed my legs then sat my case down on the floor as he spoke. Now he had started to open up I wanted to let him carry on so rested my hands on my lap and smiled as I listened.

He went on, "My wife once agreed to let me tie her hands when we made love but she told me after it did nothing for her."

"Did you enjoy it?" I put in and he responded with a nod again but stopped speaking so I urged him to continue, "Please go on."

"Well, I've not been able to pursue my feelings so when your boss spoke about bondage and that kind of thing I felt able to tell him a thing or too about myself. We have become quite close friends and I respect him a great deal. He is a man of the world."

I smiled and had to stop him again, saying, "Yes, my Master is wonderful. I'm so glad you were able to talk to him."

"Yes, yes. A good man," he came back and, clearly feeling more at ease with me, he carried on, "I admire him and envy him too. He must lead a very fulfilling life..."

He kept on speaking so I let him go with it, telling me more and more as he relaxed and I did start to think that this guy is so much a novice at best and, more likely a dreamer and not a doer. He kept harking back to his wife, how she didn't understand him (how many times have I heard this story?). He went on at length about missed opportunities and a life lived with a deep hole in it. Just work he said. It's all I have got. Well, be that as it may I was thinking and thought about my Master's instructions which were to discover if this man had what it took. Was he serious and of the right calibre? Clearly, he wanted something. The desperation with his lot was plain from his words but he was speaking to me as if confessing and I began to think I must stop him and take him by his whimpish horns and shake him. All the while a I tried to think of a way to handle this. My own Master simply wanted to know how he would react to a woman whom he knew to be a slave so I figured I was being too formal with him. I was quietly listening to his troubles and insecurities like a shoulder to cry on and I realised this wouldn't do. I needed to find out if he could look upon me as a slave and treat me as such without feeling awkward or inhibited. I hatched a simple plan in my mind and resolved to go for it. I would confront him with the reality of what a slave is and if he can't deal with it then I will take my leave and report it back to Master. As ever, I am not so submissive that I would let this guy go on with his life story for ever. Its was time to end the confessional.

I interrupted. "Do you mind, Master if I take my coat off?"

He fell silent and, lightly gesturing, said, "No, no, please do." I stood up and eased my coat off as he watched. I turn to face away and lay the coat over the chair then turned slowly, adjusting my skirt. I began to walk around the chair sliding my hand along the edge of the desk before approaching him from his side. He sat back and slowly turned in the swivel chair to meet my eyes, his gaze fixed on my body as I spoke a few reassuring words. My Master needed to know if he should give this guy any more of his time and it was my job to find out. I didn't have to worry that he was a business partner either for my Master was employing his company and it was a substantial contract. So, as they say in the movies, I was going in and, for the man behind the desk, he was about to be confronted will all his dreams. Would he survive it? Would he come out of this stronger? Or would be consigned to the long list of wannabe Masters that were never made of the right stuff?

I moved in closer and sank to my knees then arched my back, lifted up my ample breasts for his pleasure, the cleavage following the line down my half open blouse. I lowered my eyes and spoke softly, "My Master has instructed girl to inform you, Master that should this one make an unacceptable mistake or utter a displeasing comment then you are at liberty to thrash girl on her bottom if you feel a physical punishment is warranted. My Master only asks that you act with some restraint and try not to damage his property."

Still with my head lowered I lifted my eyes as I finished speaking. His face looked bewildered and I could almost hear him gulping as he tried to speak, stuttering almost, "Yes,,, yes," he crocked.

I lowered my eyes again and urged him in a soft tone, "Please Master. Do continue."

Well, he did continue and after a while he seemed to get off the subject of his wife and began speaking to me with some hint of authority in his tone. He was clearly telling me that women are difficult creatures and now days it's hard for a man to cope with women brainwashed by the media into thinking they can be as good as the lads. Ladetts he kept saying, drinking too much alcohol and behaving atrociously in public. "Sluts!" he went on, they all need to be taught a few lessons but I blame the men more. They have lost the bottle to stand up to them and deal with their women in the right way."

I remained silent and just listened, considering him and building an opinion of a hen-pecked husband, probably with some wilful and wayward daughters. "Some of them need a good beating," he ranted on. But finally he stopped and apologised which had me wanting to sigh for, in my book, a Master never apologises to a slave. Another black mark. In all truth though this guy was really just a sweety. But a Master, I didn't think so and it came as some relief when he offered to take me to launch and that brought a smile to my face. And, since I had been half mindful that his receptionist might walk in, I was eager to beg permission to get up.

"Master," I said, "may this one get up?" (Come on I was thinking, refuse or something. Give me hope here!).

He stood up and, towering over me, he looked down and finally, plainly, said, "Get up." (Goodness, I thought. Was there a hint of authority in his tone?).

We did go to lunch and a lot more was said. I never did get a flogging but he wasn't ready to do that anyway. I had given him a taste of my submission and I'm sure he wanted to fuck me badly. However, I would soon be on my way home and reporting back that he is a 'maybe' with a very big question mark. More a ranter than a Master but perhaps he needed some training if Masters can be trained.

No doubt I will meet him again but that will be my Master's decision and I can only wait and wonder if that guy will ever fulfil his dreams.

Back to now and, as I said at the start, I was thrilled to get the comments on my blog. Master H has been here all along and I know he looks forward to my posts and we have exchanged a few messages in Second Life but, alas, we have never yet been there at the same time. One day perhaps but I honestly don't get the time at the moment. Then there was Master Dom and girl is so grateful to you Master for troubling to leave a comment and ask about what she writes. Girl cannot be 100% truthful or exact in her stories. I want to tell things much as they happen but there are a number of considerations I must give to my work. First and formost I cannot reveal any names or places for obvious reasons. I must protect people from scandal and, while I treat my blog as a way of getting things off my chest so to speak, the life we lead is very private. I also want to tell a story which is difficult since so much of life and events are taken up by quite mundane things and if I dwell on detail and facts then the story, for one, might be less interesting. Lots happen and every event has a great deal more to it than what I can actually write about. I like to set the scene if I can and get to the heart of the matter quickly in order to capture the imagination. Then I dwell on the event itself and try to get over the essence of what I feel at the time and, in so doing, I think the eroticism flows easily from it. So yes, the words used are not necessarily factual but they are about events that do happen and, sometimes, I actually leave out much more fantastic stuff simply because it is too erotic and would seem to me like overkill. It just doesn't seem to work for the story I want to tell.

So, yes, I do live a very strange life and what's more I really do enjoy it for the most part. I never know what will come next. And to put a finer point on it I would say that it would be easy enough for me to break away and experience the current BDSM scene but would it be the same? I think not. I know enough about my needs as a person to know I like the secrecy, the danger and the physical pain when it happens. I also feel safe in the knowledge that no real arm will come to me because this circle of people are incredibly protective of their own. You know, we live in an age when so much is in your face, the internet as taken what was in dark corners and, in my view, trivialised it, made it too accessible. There is no shock. I need that. I need to feel excitement, to not know what will come next. Before I met my Master I was on a merrygoround of wild predictable parties and sexual encounter. But I can honestly say I never met a real man in all those years. I can't look back and I now count myself so fortunate to have the life I have got now. I live well, work hard and feel a whole person for the first time in my life.

Hard Working Girl...

2008-11-11T17:35:00.000-08:00

It has been some time since I last posted and I know one, at least, of my readers was concerned. But I am fine and I am sure you will have guessed I have been too busy to post. In fact I have been travelling a lot but that dose not mean I will not come back to my blog ever. For here I am!

Of course there is only so much I can talk about, my work as a courier and part time call girl continues relentlessly. Hark at me? Now I even admit to being a call girl. Well, that's the way I feel at times since I never know if my Master has offered extra services to his clients - my body being the extra services.

However, Master and I had a heart to heart after the pony girl episode. When I got back I was really very angry that I was put in that position with no idea what to expect. I went along with it for the love of my Master, to please him and, in all honesty, to keep the good life I enjoy. But, I am not so submissive that I can be used in any way shape or form without questioning it, even if questions fall on deaf ears.

But to be fair to my Master, I think he did listen which is rare. Normally, I am expected to obey without question and I was very lucky to get my point over without a beating. The point I made was that I might accept his ownership of me but it is not unconditional.

Oh yes, I can hear some Masters out there huffing in disgust and calling me a worthless slut if they read this but, hey, I am human!

My Master knew what I would be used for in Germany and I am not an animal. And that is what made me so angry even though I was fool enough to go along with it. Ever since we met he has known I am a reluctant slave. He very nearly lost me early on in this relationship but part of me was drawn to the life style he offered. I knew the living would be good and the sex would be good but there has to be a line I wont cross. I am not Sissy.

I wont go into the words that were used but I am sure you can imagine that I put my point over forcefully and Master seems to have taken it on board for my assignments over the past few weeks have not involved any extra services.

You know, I am not adverse to assisting my Master if a little extra service will sweeten a deal but I have set my limits now and I mean to leave him if the line is crossed. I have made up my mind.

PHONE CALL...
I heard from Sissy and the news is not good. She told me she may not return but, as yet, she hasn't told Master or really thought it through. The reason she may not return has to do with the children and I can perfectly understand her worries. The babies are growing fast and soon they will be little people toddling around. It will become increasingly hard for Sissy to fulfil her role as slave to our Master and she is concerned what effect it would have on them. My view is that, while I would miss her and the babies terribly, I have to agree she must put their welfair first.

Things happen in this relationship that are not suitable for small children to witness and, even though Master has always been good with the little ones, there are times when Sissy must behave in a certain way. Sissy is a true submissive, more so than I am. It's in her nature to be that way for the man she loves. She would not have complained, as I did, at being used like an animal by a complete stranger simply because she is compelled to obey her Master. She might not like it but she would obey.

Given her nature she has, without doubt, a serious dilemma. Does she put Master first or the well-being of her children?

What would I do, I ask myself? Well, the reluctant slave would probably never have entered this relationship had I been blessed with babies so it is too easy for me to answer. I would not return and I found myself telling Sissy as much but, of course, it is her decision. All I know is that Sissy and the babies were one of the reasons why I finally submited to Master.

If Sissy doesn't return then I guess I will have to accept that Master will seek a new slave to replace her for, as much has he seems to want to keep me, I am not the perfect submissive and Master needs a girl like that. I am sure he likes my spirit and, sure enough, I am a handful at the best of times and suffer the most beatings accordingly but, hey, the sex that often follows makes me stay for more. But how will I be with a new kid on the block? Not good I fear but that will all depend on how submissive she is towards me.

As I close this post I can't help thinking how simple and blissful life was just a few months ago when Sissy, the babies and I enjoyed a wonderful peaceful life in the country. I had freedom and money to spend and could take off to London any time I wanted. I could do what I wanted so long as I was here when expected. Now I am working hard, travelling much and, while not taking much comfort in knowing I am a usable whore, I can at least pride myself in the thought that I might be regarded as a high class courtesan.

I can dream.

Caged in a Stable!

2008-10-22T19:13:00.000-07:00

Trust is what it's all about in my view!

I mean, there I was somewhere in southern Germany at a fine house but not a place I had ever been to before. And, to top that I had only the slightest idea who my hosts were. Yet, here I was, naked and being told to walk out into the garden of the house by, effectively, complete strangers. All I had to reassure me was my Master's word that I was safe and no harm would come to me.

Now, as much as I love and trust my Master, this situation really did stretch my trust to the limit and, would exceed it for, as I walked out into the cool autumn air I immediately felt the cold and my nipples stood up like pebbles. I visibly began to shiver too and folded my arms as my back stooped.

Still I was being driven on as Master X ordered, "Walk on," and held the crop in the small of my back prodding me.

"Take the path to the left," he said, and repeated, "Walk on."

Soon I found myself standing in front of what looked like a small cottage but was in fact a stable of sorts. I really didn't know what it was but I was driven in and ordered to get in a cage they had there. I was locked in and left!

Time passed, maybe half an hour before anyone came back. I had more or less curled up on the floor and the only thing I was grateful for was that is was warmer inside the cottage. I saw the door open and in walked a young girl wearing the traditional clothes of a German serving girl. Even her blonde hair was plated and fix up in the traditional style.

She came to the cage and smiled as she spoke in very good English, "I've been sent to get you ready. Come out and I get you showered."

She unlocked the door of the cage as I got up but I said nothing to her. I simply did as I was told and followed her to a small bathroom and took a hot shower which made me feel a whole lot better.

The girl then took me to a door in the room with the cage which lead into another room that definitely did look like a stable. Now, I am not a horse person, I know little to nothing about them, but this was a stable and it smelt of horses. There was something like wooden partitions and straw on the floor. I saw harnesses hanging up too but there were no horses present so my immediate thoughts were that I was about to be used as a pony girl. I knew enough about that to form the impression anyway.

The girl was expressionless as she fitted a black leather bridle to my head. In my mind I found it amusing but didn't dare show it. She then fitted a lead to it and lead me to one corner where I was tethered at about waist height to a post which left me bent over a wooden fence rail that was a little way in front. There I was with my ass up in the air, bent over the rail and held fast to the post. I reached out with my hands to hold the post too. This was weird!

I guess it was a bit too weird for me because I suddenly blurted out my safe word probably just to see if I could stop it at any time. I wasn't even sure they knew my safe word but I said it anyway and, to my relief the girl seem to know it and stopped. She was so sweet and told me there was nothing to worry about other than the fact Master X would be having sex with me soon if I was willing to continue.

Well, with the thought of loosing everything to the for, and the soft reassurances of the girl, I nodded and said Okay. The girl smiled and stroked my hair then she got some oil and began massaging my back. She had the softest hands and I really started to enjoy the massage but the oil certainly had a distinctly horse-like odour mixed with herbs maybe.

For some while she paid me attention with her little hands, massaging my back, neck, legs and arms. Then she paid special attention to my bottom. In fact, she was starting to turn me on for, as she ran her hands over my buttocks, I felt a sensation run up my spine which had me moaning softly with pleasure.

Her hand slide under my bottom to the inside of my thigh and then, to my delight, the full of her hand caressed my pussy. Now I was bubbling with anticipation, my clitoris was hard and my vagina already soaked. But she stopped just as I felt myself starting to come and she patted my bum and I heard her say, "Master will make you happy."

The girl left and shortly after the stable door opened and I felt the cold air rush in. I look round like a horse, so it must have seemed since I was still tethered in the bent position and could do no other. The lady that had taken my clothes entered but now she was dressed in little else but a black leather corset with out panties and her breasts fully exposed. I was struck by the gold nipple rings she had on and, looking closer, I could see she had a large gold clit ring too. She was, in fact, a scary sight to behold as she stood tall in stiletto thigh-high boots and stocking tops held up with thick black suspenders stretching down from the corset. The stocking holders even had large black button rosettes on them. I could tell it was her but she also wore a black mask covering her eyes while her lips glistened with bright red lipstick.

She entered drawing a lead behind her and then he entered and I guest that was Master X but I am not sure even now for he wore a full mask over his head and the overall appearance was even more scary than the woman. The black leather mask had blinkers and small slits for the eyes. There was another split for the mouth and on the head a huge mane of hair stood up like a Mohican and trailed off down his back. To finish off the mask two leather horse ears were pricked up an either side of the mane.

She lead him in and tethered him in the stall near me and he began to whinny as he caught the scent of my body oils. I watched as the woman rough handled him, hitting his back several times with a crop she had in her hand. He was naked but for the huge mask, hoof-like boots and a body harness. She held the leash to his bridle and dragged on it to tether him, lashing out with the crop as he grew agitated with my scent and seeing me close by. Then she got a chain from the wall and clipped it to a ring holder he wore on his balls. I just watched in disbelief.

Now, I don't mind a woman touching me but I am not particularly into girl on girl without a man involved so it didn't do a whole lot for me when the woman came over and began stroking her pussy on one of my buttocks. She held my hips and really started to work on me and I couldn't really tell if this was meant to work up the guy in the horse mask or if she wanted first call on me. Anyway she seemed to be making the most of it because I heard her groan and her action became quicker as her leg pushed between mine and that button on her suspenders began to dig into my pussy which did fucking hurt.

The whole thing got heated very quick and, as she pounder my ass, he got even more frustrated and started to make a terrible racket, whinnying and buffeting the wooden partition. I was so close to screaming out my safe word when finally, at last, she let out a cry as she came on me. I was so fucking glad when she stepped away. My pussy was raw and I wasn't the least bit turned on. Not so the "horse", he was frantic and beside himself making even more noise and I couldn't help feeling sorry for him when the bitch turned on him with the crop and beat him hard. Oh my, she was by far the most dominant of the pair.

In a way that surprised me since most of the Masters my Master knew where all very dominant and this one had seemed dominant too when he ordered me to strip and ushered me to the cottage. But, here he was, or that is who I thought he was, being cruelly beaten and dominated by a woman. Well, no amount of beating was going to pacify the beast until, finally, she gave a sharp tug to the chain fixed to his balls. That stopped him and all fell silent briefly before the whinnying started again.

I really started to hate the bitch and kept thinking let the poor bugger have his way and lets get this over. For my part I disliked the woman so much now any hope that I might enjoy this game was already lost. I was forming the firm opinion that women can be more cruel than men or perhaps I just don't go much on other women being dominant. I don't know but she was getting at me and I was showing it with just a little tugging on the tether and some kicking of my feet. Indeed, at one point she gave me a stern glance and I sensed that if I kept it up she would soon be beating me too. Fortunately that never happened and she seemed to take it as a sign to get on with the show for she released the beast and lead him over to me without loosing the firm grip she held on his bridle.

He was hard as a log. The beating hadn't stopped his ardour one little bit and, quiet the opposite, he seemed raring to go for my ass. Oh hell, I was thinking, he is going to ram that thing into me so hard and my poor pussy is sore enough. I gritted my teeth as they approached and waited for it to happen. She held him back as they came close and he grew troublesome again then, just as I was about to tell her a bit of my mind, she finally allow the beast to mount me. Fucking hell it hurt!

You would have thought this beast had not fucked anyone in a year the way he rammed into me. he held my hips in his big hands and pounded me like a ramrod. And, to my utter relief he came so quick and let out an ear-piercing whinny that would have woken the dead.

I was so glad it was over and it is not an experience I would much like to go through again I can tell you but all is well that ends well and once I was back in my clothes and been treated to a lovely dinner, I was much more forgiving. Actually, the Master and his lady paid me many compliments when things got back to reality and, the report they gave to my master made him proud of me.

I left the next day to return home but I had this thought in my mind that the papers I delivered had nothing at all to do with business. Sure, i was in Germany delivering stuff to other places but I am convinced Master did his friend a favour by sending me to him. None the less, the Germans were good to me in every other respect and Master X gave me a lovely gift of jewellery. He said he will be in England soon and hoped he might see me at that time. Not for pony sex I was thinking but I smiled anyway and told him I would be my pleasure to see them again (liar!).

Back home I fully intended to slap my Master's face for putting me through that and I would have done but he must have known it was coming because he grabbed my wrist as soon as I saw him and lifted a hand to strike. My face had a look of thunder I guess but, once again, Master was ahead of the game and he grabbed my wrist and pushed my arm behind me as he pulled me close and kissed me.

The bastard!

Wanderer Returns

2008-10-21T14:24:00.000-07:00

Just back and from where you might ask?

Short answer; everywhere!

Longer answer; To hell and back, and some!

Well, credit crisis, meltdown, doom and gloom. I have heard it all, seen it all and been there watching grown men panic. Oh, and seen some pretty kinky bondage too for good measure.

Where haven't I been?

Mars perhaps but honestly I could just as well have been on the red planet for that is the state of affairs for some people that use to be very wealthy and, while still stinking rich, it sure has had some of them shitting their Savile Row pants.

Of course, yours truly has had her work cut out too for I have been working so hard for Master. He told me it was a time for trust and he trusted me with knowledge of some of his business dealings because it was a need to know situation and, what's more, he packed me off to places in Europe serving as his personal courier all on my ownsome.

As you might expect I can't speak of Master's business affairs but it sure took me to some fabulous houses in Germany and Italy. Now, some where straight forward business associates but one at least was into the same life style as my Master and, what's more he took a liking to me!

He was really good to me and I was treated like a princess. Yes, it was that good but there was a price to pay for unbeknown to me he was in touch with my Master. He wanted to take me. Simple as that.

So, I find myself answering a call to Master and he tells me this. I am not happy about it but Master tells me it is important that the guy is made to be happy. Well fuck, I thought. But Master orders me to make him happy, whatever he wants.

Now I have graduated from office receptionist through courier to gift-wrapped whore.

You know, I was ready to tell Master to find some other whore to do his dirty work but reason warned me what I would loose. Shit, I had no choice if I wanted the good life I was, or had, been enjoying to continue. Master would bring me home and dispose of me with some little pay off, thank you very much, your services are no longer required.

Did I believe he would do that?

Damn right I did!

So, reluctantly, I agreed and he said "Good girl". Now why dose that make me feel good about myself I ask you?

I certainly ask myself and it just seems I want to please Master more and more. I know I'm mad, I've always been mad, but now I must be certifiable!

Is it all about the good life? Or is it just that I am totally addicted to the life style I now lead?

I don't know but anyway, I did deliver the important business papers and twenty minutes after my call from Master I found myself standing in front of Master X from Germany who, was no longer the soft spoken gentleman that had been so graciously entertaining me. He had a crop in his hand now and, as I stood silently on the marble-tiled floor of the conservatory, he circled round me slowly, patting the crop in the flat of his hand.

He was considering me, putting a value on me like some furniture he was about to buy. I felt the crop land on my shoulder. Not painfully so but with enough force to cause me to tilt to one side and wince.

"Today," he announced, " I count myself fortunate but how fortunate remains to be seen."

He spoke perfect English, the accent clearly German but there was now considerable menace in his tone where before he had been so polite. I waited, wondering what was going to happen but he walked off without another word and I was left standing there. I didn't move. How could I? This was all part of the game they play. At least, that's what I was telling myself.

He returned with the lady of the house, an elegant woman in her early fifties and, though she had been polite before, she now marched straight up to me and handled me as if I were no more than a piece of meat. She gripped my arm tight and turned me, looking into my eyes then she let go and turned back to face the Master before seeming to give him a nod of approval.

"You will remove your clothes," he ordered and they waited as I began to peel off. The woman took each item over her arms as I undressed until I was down to my undies and shoes. Then I hesitated.

"Everything," the woman ordered.

I don't know what was going through my mind but I guess this was expected. I was about to be used in some sex game and I had to go along with it. I was doing it for the love of my Master and I certainly had thoughts like that as I took off my bra then eased down my knickers. Finally removed my shoes.

The woman took the clothes away and the Master gave me another looking over then, standing behind me he spoke, "Excellent," he stated then told me to go into the garden. "Walk on," he said as if I was a horse.

I obeyed and began walking but was soon cantering as he prodded me with the crop. Walk on!" he kept saying and marched behind me, his foot steps echoing on the marble floor.

NOTE: I have to continue this tomorrow. Master is home!

Oh what a Week!

2008-10-08T19:34:00.000-07:00

Yes, it's me! I have surfaced at last after a forced absence. I mean, I have been so busy this past week what with keeping house for Master, acting as PA and secretary, and running around town on various errands. Not to mention keeping him fed and watered till all hours of the night and then, on top of all that, somehow making myself appealing enough him to relieve himself of some of the tension he is suffering. I kind of enjoyed that part but the rest, crap! Who would want to be in business right now?

Perhaps the call girl business might suit me but, then again, I might like variety but I sure as hell don't fancy every Tom, Dick and Harry shoved up me. No, I have enough respect left for myself not to do that but the idea does fire the grey matter, especially if it is forced on me - force being the optimum word!

I've always liked reading erotic stories, particularly anything involving forced sex but I don't mean outright rape either - that is just crude and cruel. I mean possession and submission (there is a difference - rape is terrifying while submitting to that which you desire is quite another matter). Anyway, if anything will get me frigging till my pussy is content it is a good erotic story. It comes (I cum!) quite naturally you see, easily in fact and when I write about sex you can be sure it's turning me on as much as you, if not more. If you notice when I have dwelt on a sexual description and given it a lot of detail then you can be sure I have had to have a play with myself before the writing was done. I can't help it. Sometimes I'm lucky if I can write two paragraphs and my knickers are soaked. I find I change knickers three, four and five times in a day when I am writing. Believe me, I've been known to wake up and frig. I go to bed and do it, I run to the toilet when I'm out because I have seen a hunky guy or even an interesting woman. Yes, that too; women can turn me on!

Getting wet is actually quite an uncomfortable problem at times though which I'm sure men can't fully appreciate. Like, I know they get a hard on but we fucking leak! and some of us more than others. Well, yes, there is always panty liners and I do use them a lot but they move and cause me to itch and still end up soggy as hell. There are times I really wanted to scratch down there too but, in a public place, that isn't exactly ladylike. What's worse is when I get an itch right up inside which drives me nuts and has even brought me close to orgasm in the most awkward places, like on a train or bus? I end up wriggling my ass about and working my vagina trying to relieve the itch which is dodgy since inevitably I squeeze my clitoris too and then I start to palpitate and sweat. I could easily jump on the nearest stranger, man or woman, and beg them to fuck me just to get that fucking itch scratched!

Oh, I am in a slutty mood today and it's a simple fact the more sex i get from Master, the more I want. When he is not here I just have to play and still fuck him when he gets home. It's all down to a dirty mind I guess and don't go thinking women are not like that because they are probably worse than men. It's the verbal part of the brain you see which is highly developed in the female of the species. Talk dirty to us and you're on to a winner. And if she doesn't respond then stop chatting up Nuns.

I'm going to tell you what I did now, purely in the name a social research you understand? A long time ago I once sneaked into a men's convenience just to see it out of curiosity. Actually, there was three of us in our last year at school and it was all a bit of a giggle and a dare. We figured that if anyone comes in or stops us we will just act surprised and tell them we made a mistake. Well, anyway, we got away with it and had a good look round but to my surprise I didn't see that much graffiti on the walls which I had kind of expected. Indeed, we weren't there to take in the stink (which it did) we wanted to see what men were writing about women. In fact the women's toilets had more and it was definitely more saucy. Shit, women would write books on toilet walls if they could I'm sure. It's just not true from what I know that women have cleaner minds than men it's just we don't shout it from the roof tops like men do - well, not until blogging came along. And, just the same as we sat in the loo and did our smutty doodles for giggles in the past, so today we sit behind our laptops and do longer smutty doodles now. But, the spelling is perhaps better.

Okay, you are waiting for Submission Part 3 and, while I have the draft, I still haven't had chance to proof-read it four or five times as I always do. So, not long now, maybe by this weekend *gives a little innocent smile* What? I promise I will try!

Oh what a night!

2008-10-03T17:04:00.000-07:00

You know what they say, it never rains unless it pours and this silly bitch walks around with blinkers on and doesn't even notice what is staring everyone in the face. I mean, Master took off to London at the start of the week and, given his mood, I took it he had it in for me. Like I was not getting any sex which was starting to get at me and he left us to worry what the punishment would amount to while seeming to punish us on a daily basis anyway. I didn't see the obvious.

Well, he left and told us we were confined to the house until he returned and I figure fine, I will spend all week in the garden, and it rained but that was nothing compared to what he told me when he called two days ago. Sissy took the call and he specifically asked her to put me on the line. He summoned me to London saying he needed me with him. Well, I was eager to please and make amends for my failings so I wasted no time in getting there. When I arrived he was not there but I could see by how untidy the place was to know something really was up.

I found dirty washing in the sink and used coffee cups everywhere and he had been smoking which he only ever did at times of great stress. Well, I cleaned the apartment and prepared a meal for when he returned and waited. It got late and he never called so I tried his number and just got the answering service. It got dark out and I started to worry then, at last, he came through the door and slumped down on the sofa barely speaking. I brought him coffee then attempted small talk which met little to no response so I had to ask what was wrong?

Now, I already had some idea since he told me that the banking crisis was badly affecting his business interests. But now I could see just how stressed he was. He was a different person from the cool calculating Master I knew and I felt so sorry for him but I just didn't know how I could ease his troubled mind.

I told him I had dinner on for him and he smiled lightly so I went ahead and got it ready and eventually got him to the table to eat. He just picked at it though and we talked or, more rightly, I listened to him as he opened up a bit which, of course, I can't repeat but suffice to say, he really has lost a lot of money and told me he believes we are all in for a deep and lasting recession.

Well, such that my talents are I thought I could at least try to coax him to the bedroom in the hope it might take his mind off his troubles enough to get him to sleep. So, I left him and took a shower then put on a baby doll see-through nighty and skimpy lacy panties then I appeared at the door and called to him softly to gain his attention. He looked at me and vaguely grinned but I knew it was going to take a lot more effort so I slid my hand up the door post and bent my knees in while pushing out my hip seductively. I brought one finger to my mouth and sucked it slowly then traced a nail along my lips. All the while I had my eyes fixed on him determined to get his full attention.

It was hard work but he began to take more notice when I lowered my hand and slide the wet finger up my leg from my knee, hooking the hem of the nighty to lift it up above my pussy. My legs were crossed and I pushed the finger down inside the top of my panties and made out to masturbate while making soft purring sounds.

Still he sat there but at least he was smiling. I had got his attention so it was time to pull out all the stops and stretched both arms above my head and let my legs part a little, my feet both turned in with a slight tilt to my body in a 'naughty girl' pose. I lowered my eyes and with a tilt to the head spoke in a breathless tone, confessing, "Girl has been naughty Master."

"Oh?" he said, his tone strong which thrilled me knowing he was responding.

"Yes, Master," I answered and brought my hands back down to fidget with my fingers. I then tilted my head back the other way and took a deep breath before saying, "girl didn't beg to kiss your shoes when you came home."

He look at me and I waited in my little girl pose gently rocking my shoulders from side to side. He stood up now and my heart began to beat faster. He stepped forward, paused and straightened his back before ordering, "on your knees slut."

My heart missed a beat as he barked the order and I fell quickly to my knees. I had him going now and was ready to obey him no matter what.

"Crawl to me, slut!" he snapped and I immediately put my hands to the floor and crawled to him just as he put one foot forward.

I leaned my head down and kissed his shoe then put my hands to it and caressed it with my cheek. He snatched it way as I held it then put the other foot forward and I repeated the action, soft purrs issuing from my mouth as I kissed it passionately.

No sooner had I kissed the shoe than he reached down and took my hair and pulled me up, my face resting in the up position close to his face. He griped my chin with his other hand and with his fingers pressing into my cheeks forcing my mouth open he informed me, "You will now suffer for your failing, slut."

Unable to move my head in his vicelike grip my eyes turned to him and, struggling to speak I begged, "Master,,, my master, girl begs you Master. Spare girl Master. I wont fail again!"

He roughly slammed me down on the table so hard my feet left the ground. This was hurting and I began to cry, he seemed to be taking his aggression out on me now and, though I had invited it, I was beginning to panic inside. "Don't hurt my I bleated out!" But it was no use. I had started it and he was going to punish me.

He gripped the back of my neck now and held me face down then ripped down my panties violently so they rested stretched from one knee to the other, my bare ass and soaked, gaping pussy fully exposed to him. With the flat of his hand he slapped hard on my buttocks and repeated it five, six or more times until I was crying out for him to stop, begging him and wanting him all at the same time. Every slap that landed on me sent shock waves through my body and an intense stinging pain to my ass. It hurt so much but I wanted more.

He stopped and I continued crying then held my breath expecting another blow but it never came. Instead he pulled me back up by the hair then with one hand under my arm pit he rudely took me by the crouch and hoisted me over his shoulder. He had his arm up between my legs and his hand spread in the small of my back, and that's how he carried me to the bedroom where he threw me down on the thick rug at the side of the bed.

I lay there on my back waiting, scared to move as he undressed and came to stand above me naked, his well-toned body and erect cock greeting my eyes. I reached to touch his foot without moving in case he should hurt me again but he stood there motionless which I took as a que to begin pleasuring him.

I lifted myself and slid my hands up his legs then gripped his balls in one hand and his huge cock in the other. I started to stroke it steadily running my soft palm up and down the shaft then brought my lips to the head pushing my open mouth over it and lapping it with my tongue, tasting him, hunger for his body growing by the moment.

He pushed his cock deeper into my mouth, fucking down into my throat, choking me. I pulled back for air then tilted my head and side ways and to appease him covered his throbbing flesh bringing my lips round it as far as they could reach. Then I pressed my teeth into the shaft gently and began riding it from tip to base like I was playing a mouth organ. All the while I stroked the palm of my hand over the head at the most sensitive point and he began panting.

He was close to orgasm and I could tell so I increased the pressure and the pace but he was not having me take control and brutally pushed me away sending me sprawling along the floor.

"Slut!" he called me, "you presume to control me, you whore!"

I put my hands to my face and burst into tears while he took to the bed and lay out on his back, his cock still erect waiting for me. "Get here slut," he demanded and I pulled myself together and half stumbled, half crawled, to the bed desperate to obey him, my soaked pussy begging for orgasm and relief.

I crawled up over him dragging my hanging breasts across his cock then brought a leg over to straddle his torso and would have pushed myself onto him had he not grabbed me by the throat again to stop me. He held me up high and I gasped, crying out in fear but he ignored my cries and just held me there while taking hold of his cock and placed it in the neck of my vagina which made me squeal, orgasm just a split second away.

"Don't come!" he shouted and squeezed my neck tighter but it was no use I began to shake violently as a powerful orgasm electrified my body which had him growling obscenities and ramming me down on his shaft whereupon he let out a deep groan and came within me.

The seconds ticked by but still he held me by the neck until, at last, his orgasm was spent.

Finally, he released his grip and allowed me to pull free, his come oozing from my hole and running down my legs. I lay down to his side and took a foetal position, my ass and neck hurting but my pussy hurting more. Shortly I turned to face him and slowly, carefully, pushed up under his arm and rested my head on his chest. I expected, and feared, he would push me away but he did not and, to my utter relief, he delighted me when he actually began stroking my hair to calm me.

We lay there for quite a while in silence but for the steady beat of his heart in my ear which I found comforting. I thought he might have gone to sleep and turned my face to look up to him while resting my chin on his chest. I could see his eyes were still open though and he smiled down to me and spoke, saying, "Good girl, I'm ready to meet all challenges now."

I managed a small smile and blinked.

FOOTNOTE:

Well, given I went over two weeks with no sex I was sure ready for it when I arrived at West London and he did give me a great orgasm which left me in tears. But, yes, the story is a little exaggerated because that's how I express the raw emotion of what I feel during sex. Some people are addicted to drugs or drink and cigarettes but I can happily say I am addicted to sex. I don't like too much pain but master has brilliant control and yes, I do have a safe word least he forget his own strength. Rare I have to use it but I have in the past and I even smacked him in the mouth once so it's not all one sided I assure you. However, there is nothing like a good spanking to get me going.

I am back at the country house now and Master is refreshed ready to take on the difficult business challenges he faces. That makes me happy knowing I relieved some of his stress during my visit. Some good new too for Sissy. Master has told me to pack her off with the babies to her family for a break as he will not be down for a while. I will be going back to housekeep for him and make sure he eats properly and gets any relief he needs. Sure, I may have to take a little more pain but you know what they say? no gain without pain. *laughs*

Finally, I have to let you know about the next part of my story, Submission part three. Well, it is finished but I just haven't had time to read it through, edit and check for give away's that might cause damage to the one's I love so please bare with me. Maybe tomorrow.

Escape to the Garden

2008-09-29T06:44:00.000-07:00

If anything lifts me up when I feel down it is the garden of our country house. I have been spending a lot of time out there trying to avoid Master because I feel his eyes on me constantly and it is not in a nice way. All weekend he has been here picking holes in everything. I would call it nagging but he doesn't nag. He calls us in and has us stand side by side while he lectures us. It's very much like being a kid in school and he has even called us to his study before now and sat behind his desk lecturing.

Generally, I take it on the chin and have a good giggle with Sissy later when we chatter about him. Bombastic old fool I call him. But he really has it in for me this time and, as I have said before, what really bothers me is that he has said we will be punished later as if we weren't being punished already.

In the past he has called me the pendulum that keeps our little family in balance. My ability to switch roles and become dominant with Sissy and yet remain submissive for him. He likes to watch me make love to Sissy before he joins in, often just sitting there giving the occasional instruction which we dutifully comply with no matter how degrading it was for us. We have topped and tailed often and while I still prefer a big cock in me I have to say Sissy has a touch of silk and a tongue of velvet. I always orgasm.

Now, I have got use to his punishments and I had thought I had seen the worst but this is dragging on and, though I have been able to handle a degree of pain especially as it is often a prelude to steamy sex, I am finding it leaving me with a bad taste in my mouth this time. What's more he is showing no interest in my body which is highly unusual? I'm half expecting another girl to show up any day, one perhaps he has been cultivating unbeknownst to us. And I only have to think back to how long he knew me before I was introduced to Sissy or was brought here to the country house.

It's not like it hasn't happened before already. Six months ago he brought a new girl here and told us to make our new sister welcome which, initially, we did. Well, Sissy was okay with her until she left while I quickly grew to dislike her. I mean, I always take care of Sissy, buying her clothes, doing her hair and make up, and generally worrying over her health and happiness. The new girl quickly made friends with Sissy and I caught her doing Sissy's hair in a style I didn't like. I complained and Master agreed which lead to a good flogging for her, albeit something of a disappointment for me since he had sex with her right after, as he dose, and I was left out. I was made to stand and watch her make love to my Sissy and Master. That was my punishment for complaining!

Soon after he traded the new girl at a gathering and I was not sorry to see her go. Clearly, Master felt the family balance was out of tune. From my point of view it's much more simple; Two's company and three's a crowd.

Anyway, back to the masses of writing I have been doing. I have got together enough material for Submission part three but it's far too much and rambling at the moment so I need to work on that for a few days yet. I want to cover the time I was taken to my first 'gathering' of the Masters and how I first set eyes on Sissy. Hopefully it wont be a long wait for that.

Master is up to London in the morning for business meetings and he will be staying over at his apartment so the next few days should be tension free I hope. I would love to take us all out for some day trips but unfortunately Master has confined us to the house until he returns so it's just gardening for me. Not so bad.

Punishment & Frustration

2008-09-27T15:56:00.000-07:00

I thought I had better sit down and give my handful of readers an update - well, at least write something for posterity. I'm sure one day I will look back at my 'Secret Diary' and probably be shocked - NOT. No, I will grow old as disgracefully as I have lived!

So do I care? Not a bit, I've been called a whore more times than I can remember, and not just by men. One or ten women have labelled me too. It comes from hanging out in the wrong places and being successful with other women's men you see. Like I knew they had girl friends or wives when they chatted me up?

Men are brilliant liars. *laughs to herself* It's true!

I have been so amazed and even fascinated by some of the stories men come out with. Actually, I think I know when they are telling porkpies but I take all their BS in and smile and say stuff like, "Oh really?" followed by girlie giggles and some sort of body language. Well, you have to don't you - how else would I get a good fuck?

I mean, men can pay for it if they can't pull or call up an old doting flame late at night after the pub closes - yeah, they do do it and it's so not fair on the girl. I've had that in the past too but they only try it once then they go straight on my not at home list. Talking of paying for it (thinks of the movie, Midnight Cowboy) I must put that on my list of thinks to try before I die. Got to be some hunky rent boys out there for the ladies (hehe).

Anyway, enough rambling. Sissy and I are still in the dog house and what makes it worse is Master is not servicing me! He has not touched me since he came back and he was away for over a week. That means I have not had a man in *counts on her fingers* "Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!" It must be over two weeks! Now that is bad. I mean, seriously bad and no wonder my clitoris is sore damnit!

Yes, I have been playing with myself a lot lately and I know what starts me off too. Writing all my past sexploits. It gets me going and, with no man to service me, it's down to good old faithful, my pretty little hand. Well, I would use the vibe to take some of the strain but it stopped working so I guess the batteries are dead (makes a mental note to remedy that).

So, back to the punishment issue. I am sure Master is adding sexual starvation to the list but it's hard to fathom because I know he is fucking Sissy which begs the question; Is he blaming me more than Sissy? Or, will he switch over? Nah, Sissy is not like me. Abstinence and Sissy go together so he knows it wont matter to her so long as he has a kind word for her and a little praise. That said, what really worries me though is that Master made it clear we have yet to receive our punishment.

Well, anyway. I keep thinking I should have taken one of the young boys at the party I was at while in London last week. I don't go for toy boys as a rule but perhaps I wouldn't be so frustrated right now if I had. Which reminds me. I did have a cyber session in SecondLife the other day. *laughs*

I have said it in a past post but I use to do a little cyber in chatrooms for fun and to feed my big appetite for sexual fantasy. In the past year however I have gravitated to virtual reality in SL which actually makes life much easier. You see, all that cyber typing adds to the strain on the hands and is bloody hard to do one handed, especially when you are about to come. I mean, it's all right for blokes, they can play without sticky fingers until they come while I end up pulling my hand up to get something quickly typed with both hands and, of course, leave a sticky mess on the keys. It's really not very nice. But I digress; in SL your little avatar can indulge in animation's which are controlled by the touch of a key and even the typing is done for you in the form of sexy commentaries which can come over in sound snippets too if your avatar has the right kind of pussy enhancements on. You see it's all point and click which is great when one hand is busy!

I actually find it quite a turn on - more so when I am starved as I am now. You know, I can suck a dick (well, watch my avatar doing it) and click his Willie and watch it grow! Then we jump on a sex bed with the animation's in it and point and click our way to orgasmic heaven. Whoopee!

But seriously, as much fun as virtual reality is, it's still not the real thing and if I don't get it soon then Wendy is gonna take a trip.

But first, I will try the sexy lingerie stunt. He can't resist that. *grins*

Submission (Part 2)

2008-09-25T23:08:00.000-07:00

Finally, I managed to finish Submission Part 2 after breaking it down and removing a lot of detail. I was going the split it but I felt the sequence of events rather need to be told complete so I did my best.

At home the last few days has been a little tense and I have had Sissy crying on my shoulder a few times. Not because she is scared of the impending punishment we face but that she has displease Master. That is eating her up bad. For my part I am not so devoted that I would loose any sleep over it but, who knows, I may eat my words after the punishment.

Anyway, on with the story...

Submission (part 2)

It's hard when your heart rules your head but I don't remember a time when Lady Reason didn't come to my rescue and give me a good talking to. She had been there with me on that awful morning when I was forced to say goodbye to a romance I had invested so much feeling into. When I left Master's comfortable apartment in West London I was resolved not to look back, to banish the affair from my mind. But such resolve had been short-lived because in the days that followed I was tormented by the whispers of doubt in my mind.

I had never known a man like Master before. There has been other strong men in my life but none of them could compare to him. He was handsome, attentive and romantic, the perfect gentleman while maintaining a Masterly air about him. He was cool and decisive and always knew exactly what he wanted. It was hopeless, I was so angry and emotional when I left and yet within days I had forgiven everything and was rebuilding my affection for him. That was me, doting on his memory, wanting him. How could this be, I thought? I had never had any great difficulty moving on before.

It must have been pride because I was still managing to hold out but I wanted sex so bad. I tried to masturbate but the only fantasy I could get off on was the thought of wearing that damn collar. There had to be other things I could think of and of course there were, I had a vast achieve of scenarios in my head yet none of them were doing anything for me now. I wanted him more than anything in the world.

I had kept to myself and avoided going out looking for men. All I had done was talk to people online in chatrooms. There was plenty of advise usually telling me to move on. I was talking constantly about my affair and must have been boring everyone to tears. Some of the males tried to get me into a cyber session saying that's what I needed. But it didn't work; I just couldn't go there. In the end I went to a certain chatroom which I knew was a drop-in for subs with problems. I spoke to a very understanding Master and told him everything. He was wonderful, listened to me for ages and gave me some good advise.

He put some questions to me and pointed out that my answers revealed a deep need to submit but pride and lack of trust were holding me back. He even advised me to stop masturbating and fantasising for a while. Put my mind to other, none-sexual things and even find a new lover soon, one who doesn't just want sex preferably. A good fellow who can make you laugh he suggested. This will help you move on and if it dose not then I should consider seriously calling up the Master and talking over the issues with an open mind.

I took the advise on board and started to sort out my wardrobe, throwing out clothes I had worn for Master, especially those he had bought me. I was binning hundreds of pounds worth of clothes but I was determined to erase memories. Then I took myself off shopping which did make me feel better. A week had passed and Master never called. I managed to resist calling him as well, though I confess to staring at his number on my mobile more than once. All I had to do now was find someone else, so I thought.

I got dressed up and off I went to try some favourite haunts where I had been successful in the past. It didn't take long and in a place I particularly liked I met a guy at the bar. We began chatting easily and he proved rather charming and quite witty. Now, I'm not a heavy drinker and I don't go much on men that get drunk which this guy was surly doing. He was funny though and made me laugh so much I couldn't help but overlook the amount of drink he was having. He was holding it well however and when he suggested going back to his place I just agreed without really thinking.

He actually had an apartment within walking distance so we set off. It had been raining and we turned into a leafy street with high hedges. The smell of wet foliage was in the air which I found refreshing after the smoky atmosphere of the bar. He kept up the banter and, even though I was saying very little by now, it didn't seem to stop him chattering and joking. He seemed oblivious to my growing indifference.

As we walked several times he took my arm and even put his arm round me at one point before reaching in his pocket and bringing out a small bottle of whisky. He opened the top and drank some then offered it to me which I politely refused putting up a hand to stop the bottle being thrust in my face. He drank some more and put the bottle away then suddenly stopped me and held me with my back to a tree. He tried to kiss me but the smell of the whiskey on his breath caused me to turn my face away so he ducked his head down laughing and proceeded to neck me.

He had both arms out against the tree trapping me so I bent my knees and slipped out from under while giving a little giggles to make light of it. He took it as a game of catch'em and bounded after me this time taking me firmly in his arms. He forcefully started kissing my face and lips. I started to panic and struggle then managed to push him away which left him with his arms and hands spread out gesturing.

"Come on..." he said, "what's wrong? It was just a kiss. I thought you were up for it."

I was straightening my clothes and looking round thinking I need to find a cab. Then he came at me again but I stopped him and pushed him back, saying, "Don't!"

He started laughing then fumbled in his pocket for the whisky bottle and opened it. He was staggering some now as he took a drink then he offer it to me again.

"Awww... Come on, have a drink, sweetheart." His words were slurring.

I turned and started to hurry away back up the street with the man hot on my heels still chuckling and pleading...

"Come on!" he said. "I'm sorry. I promise to be good. Come on, don't walk off."

I was having none of it and kept walking. When I reached the corner he grabbed me again pulling me about. "Look, I told you. I'm sorry."

I snapped at him as tears welled up in my eyes, "Don't fucking say sorry! Get away from me!"

I headed out into the main road which was quite busy with traffic and passers by. People looked at us as he followed me, pleading and begging, and still saying sorry. He was really looking drunk now.

I spotted cabs passing and moved off the curb to hail one but none stopped. All the while this guy hassled me constantly pleading for me to come back with him and saying he was sorry. I was ignoring him and just wanted to get away. Desperate to find a cab I had my hand in the air ready and it seemed like ages before one finally stopped. I couldn't get in any quicker than I did. The guy seemed like he would get in with me too but I managed to pull the door shut and left him standing there swaying. He was still gesturing and pleading but the cabbie read the situation instantly and started to pull off quickly much to my relief.

What must I have been thinking? I kept asking myself. The man was not even my type and a drunkard at that. I could have kicked myself hard and thanked providence I had had a lucky escape. Back home I just sat in a chair thankful it was over but I soon started to cry. Depression was now taking hold of me and I was talking to myself asking what is to become of me, hating myself, my life and men even more.

Was I blaming men for my unhappiness? Probably, knowing me. I guess I had experienced too much of the bad side of men and learnt from an early age to shield myself. I probably became very selfish and demanding since I could turn heads and make men sit up and take notice of me which boosted my self esteem and gave me a lot of confidence. I felt I was hot and my body language oozed sexuality. Most men were putty in my hands.

But here I was in my late thirties and asking myself what it had all come to. I couldn't see me ever marrying and I knew there would never be any children. It didn't seem like I had much of a life any more. It was all down hill now I was thinking and I was looking at growing old disgracefully, a tired has-been that everyone has had and no one goes there any more.

I was in a bad way and was even thinking life was not worth living so it is not really surprising that I picked up my mobile phone and looked at Master's number once again. It would take just a press of a button, listen to the digits beeping and a ringing tone before I would hear his voice again. I pressed the button.

It started ringing for what seemed like ages then, just as I was thinking he's asleep, he answered...

"Hello"

I paused then spoke quietly, "It's me."

"I know. Are you all right?"

"Yes."

Another pause...

"What is it then?" he asked?

"I'm sorry." I answered.

"No problem," said he.

Another pause then, "I miss you," said I.

"It's late," he put in to stop me continuing but I spoke across him...

"I thought I might hear from you?"

"No," he said. "You made your choice."

Tears formed in my eyes and, weakly, I said, "It was a nice collar."

"Yes, I would like to have seen it on you."

"I tried it on."

"And?"

"It felt good."

"I still have it here."

My heart leaped, his words came to me like a signal.

"I miss you."

Another long pause as I whimpered at the other end of the phone then he spoke, "Call a cab. I'm waiting for you."

"Yes," I said, fighting back the tears. "Bye."

He hung up without another word and I just sat there looking at the phone, wiping my eyes and gathering my thoughts. The tissue in my hand was covered in black mascara and I felt a mess.

Soon enough I was on my feet and calling a cab. Then I headed to the bathroom and showered in record time, dried and made my hair presentable, fresh make-up on and a complete change of clothes. I was still getting ready when the door bell rang but it didn't take long for me to answer and I was out the door following the man to his cab. We set off and thirty minutes later I was at the door of Master's apartment in West London.

Master was waiting and the front door opened as I approached. I leaned forward to kiss his cheek as I greeted him then walked in and sat myself down in the kitchen after removing my coat. He came in and sat opposite.

I felt nervous and he seemed to look right through me, studying my face, reading me.

"How have you been?" I asked, trying to open conversation.

"Fine," he said and went on, "you look tired."

I nodded and answered, "Yes, I am a bit."

After a short pause he began by asking if I had anything to tell him, to which I shook my head initially, but then he pressed it, asking, "I was expecting you to tell me something?"

I knew what he meant but I was reluctant to out right say I wanted to get back with him even as a slave. In stead I said, "I'm sorry the way I left. I was upset and with the collar and everything I was confused. I felt like I was in a corner."

"No," he answered. "It was all my fault. You weren't ready for that. Bad timing."

I shrugged. "Not really. You said what you wanted and I needed to know. I guess I've accepted it now but I don't know if I can submit to you in the way you want me to."

"Fair enough," he agreed, then asked, "So, why have you come back?"

I didn't know how to answer that so I said, rather flippantly, "Because you told me to."

He chuckled and I smiled back then offered to make coffee. He accepted and I got up to do the honours.

"I'm going to give you a chance," he said as I set the coffee cups on the table and I think I frowned at him but just listened.

"You see," he went on, "I can accept your reaction to this and even your confusion but it troubles me that you are in denial."

I just looked at him and he continued, "Women are naturally submissive and it just takes the right man to bring it out. That is the true order in nature."

I was trying to take it in but I did interrupt him, saying, "That sounds a bit sexist."

"No!" he stopped me and brought his hand down on the table with a slight thud. "Survival of the fittest. It is perfectly natural for a man to be master in his own home and master of all he owns. Can't you see this girl?"

I gulped and weakly asked, "What has it to do with you and me?"

"Everything!" he snapped back at me. "You can't submit because you're mind is full of feminist notions of equality. You deny the natural order. Ask yourself what kind of man you want. The strong or the weak?"

He had me and I couldn't deny the truth of my needs. I was here because I wanted him, because he was strong. I nodded and agreed, "Yes, you're right."

"And what kind of man could you ever truly love?" he asked quietly.

I smiled and simply said, "This girl loves you."

He stopped and actually looked surprised at my comment. He took his gaze off me and beamed a warm smile as if to dismiss it as frivolous but I seized the moment and got up, throwing my hip out seductively as I rounded the table towards him. He looked up at me smiling as I approached. Then I sat my bottom down on his lap and ran my fingers through his hair. A small hand cupped his chin and, while looking into his eyes, I kissed him.

We started to kiss deeply, our lips parting and he exploring my mouth with his tongue. He slid his arms round me pulling me close and I felt my nipples harden against his chest. The kiss grew more passionate and I remember the immense feeling of relief and utter contentment I now felt.

He broke off the kiss and brought his hand to my face, his broad palm spanning my cheek and his fingers pushing over my ear and into my hair line. My head was tilted, leaning into his touch and we both smiled at each other.

"I'm happy to see you back," he said which added to my feeling of relief then he lifted me bodily and carried me into the darkness of the bedroom and lowered me onto the bed. He stepped away and took his robe off throwing it aside before stepping further back so his manly body was silhouetted against the moonlit window. He was wearing just his shorts.

"Stand up girl," he ordered, his tone masterly again. "Take off your clothes carefully and give me each item one at a time."

I sat up and looked at him with an eager expression but I found his instruction just a little odd. I wondered the meaning but complied anyway and stood up, walking into the light of the window so he could clearly see me. For a moment I felt just a tiny bit shy and girlishly gripped my hands together, my eyes lowered. He watched me as I began to strip.

I was wearing a midi length dress in black and emerald floral print, low cut and fitted waist. I turned to face away and, reaching my arms behind me, drew the zip down the back and slipped the shoulders off to drop the dress to the floor. Still holding it with one hand I stepped out of it and gathered it up as I straightened my body. I then turned to face him and walked forward handing him the dress.

I turned back to take my position and waited a moment to watch him. He was already placing the dress carefully over a chair-back then he motioned with a hand gesture to continue so I leant down and crossed one knee in front of the other and proceeded to undo each of my suspenders in turn. With my dark sheer stockings freed I straightened up again and reached round with my arms to unhook the black corset I was wearing. I pulled it free and released my breasts from its grip then once again walk to him handing the item over.

I paused in front of him as he took the corset. He looked down at my breasts as they swayed seeming to float from side to side ever so slowly caused by my breathing and body movements. My nipples were hard as small pebbles and he touched one which sent unbelievable sensations through my nerves. So intense was the feeling, like piercing bolts of electrical energy reaching even to my clitoris. I tensed and took a deep breath, my eyes closing.

He let go and I opened my eyes to see him nod so I turned again and walked to the bed lifting one leg at a time to remove my shoes. Then I lifted a foot to the bed and eased off the stocking carefully, eventually pulling it free by the toe. I swapped legs and repeated it then knelt down and hooked my fingers in the shoe heels bringing them together before standing up and dutifully carrying them along with the stockings to present to him.

With the stockings and shoes neatly placed aside he came back to me and took me by the shoulders turning me to face away from him. All remained quiet and I could hear the sound of his breathing close behind me but I didn't move. Suddenly, he took a bunch of my hair and pulled my head back while taking hold of my shoulder again with the other hand. I gave out a little cry more in surprise than pain but it did hurt. He then marched me to the mirrored doors of the wardrobe and stopped facing them while still holding me firmly by the hair. In the reflection I could see him slightly to the side of me, standing over me.

"Take off your panties, girl," he said as he let go of my hair.

I leaned and slid my knickers down and stepped clear of them. I held them up and he took them then crunched them up in his hand and brought then to his nose to smell them. They were damp and he said so, then added as he breathed out, "Good girl."

I was enjoying it all and my heart was pounding with anticipation. What would come next I kept thinking?

He pressed me down to my knees then he stood in front of me so I was looking through his legs at the reflection of myself in the mirror. He suddenly, and brutally, jabbed his foot between my knees and spread my legs to my pussy was on show.

"Sit up straight, slut!" he demanded and I did, arching my back and looking up to him. He looked down and continued, "Lay your hands on your thighs and face them up."

I was doing everything he told me to do and I began to feel very vulnerable but I couldn't deny the excitement I felt as he turned away and walked to the bedside table. I watched him in the mirror and he took the leather collar from the draw together with a chain and other stuff which I could not quite make out in the darkness. He threw some of the stuff on the bed then came back to me holding the collar. Once again he took my head and pulled it back sharply so my hair fell clear of my neck. He then put the collar on me and tightened it before buckling it. Still with my head back I lowered my eyes straining to see it in the mirror and he must have noticed because he pushed my head forward so I could see it clearly. I watched as he fixed the leash chain to it.

"What are you, girl?" he asked in a strong tone.

I thought I knew how to answer and replied sheepishly, "Your slave, Master?"

He said nothing and yanked the leash pulling me off balance so I fell to the floor squealing. He ignored my cries and started to drag me to the bed as I struggled, choking, to get to all fours. He stepped up on the bed and dragged me up too then pushed me down on my back and brought the full weight of his body down to sit himself across my ribs. I gasped, the air pressed from my lungs.

"Please don't be so rough, " I head myself pleading pathetically and to my horror he slapped my face which had me crying and begging him to stop. I had brought this on myself and I knew it but I feared it was going to get worse, that he would really start to beat me. Tears were streaming from my eyes but he just carried on and forced my arms apart, gripping my wrists and stretching my arms so my hands reached the bed corners. He picked up the other stuff on the bed which I could make out now. He had cuffs which he locked round my wrists and fixed to the bed posts.

"What are you doing?" I whimpered, then cried out as he slapped my face again for daring to ask.

"Silence!" he growled as he got off me and bounced clear before taking one of my legs. I started to struggle and brought my knee across now so I could kick out at him and he backhanded it away which hurt like hell. It was no use, he had one leg fixed to the bottom corner of the bed quickly then went for the other which I was still kicking out wildly with. He grabbed it and fought with my kicking briefly then managed to cuff it and secure me. The job done he took a deep breath and stood back leaving me to cry.

For some time he just stood there watching me as I settled down. I could see him standing there and started to wonder what was going to happen but I knew one thing for sure, he was prepared to hurt me and that worried me. I could take some pain but this was an unknown quantity, something I had only ever fantasised over. No one had hurt me in this way before. Sure, I had taken slaps before but that was from an angry man. What I was getting now was from a cold and calculating man who was demanding submission from me. And I had no idea just what that really meant but I knew it was more than a sex game and, right now, I just hopped he wouldn't really cause me harm and that the sex to come would be so fantastic that it would make up for my suffering.

At last he made a move and got back on the bed. He straddled me again but didn't knock the wind out of me this time. In stead he lean down and kissed my cheek softly then started to neck me and grope my breasts. At first I wasn't very responsive but the more he kissed my body and caressed me with his hands the sooner I came round to it. He kissed my lips and we began exploring each other's mouth with our tongues. The kissing got deeper and more passionate and I even nipped at his chin with my teeth as he pulled back a little - I know I wanted to hurt him some too.

He chuckled and pushed my face away then lifted his body down and squeezed both my breasts between his thighs, bringing his knees back under my arms and lifting me some. His cock was huge and standing erect as he pushed it between my boobs and started to push back and forth. He was breast fucking me and I watched hungry to suck it but could do nothing but strain on the cuffs.

My pussy was aching for sex by now and my face still smarted from the slaps. I was breathing deeply as I watched him rhythmically tit fuck me and my mouth opened as if begging for his cock. He put his hands to the wall then stopped. I looked up at him while he changed position bringing his cock to my mouth to fill it. He pushed it into the back of my mouth and I began to suck, tasting him, grateful after the rough treatment. I sucked hard on it and he pushed in and out shagging my mouth hard and even making my choke several times as the head of his cock pushed into my throat. More than once he seamed to be coming and stopped before going on again. I was amazed at his control.

Eventually he took his cock from my mouth and slid it down my neck and between my breasts to come to rest on my tummy. I was momentarily disappointed to be loosing it but the feeling of his hard cock and balls pressing down on my body comforted me. He leaned over me and kissed my lips then started to spread his hands round my breasts gathering the flesh and squeezing them, forcing my erect nipples to sit up. Mouth open he began sucking them hard moving from one to the other in turn before releasing his grip and sliding his hands down my sides following my curves over my hips. Moving his body down yet again so he was between my legs his tongue followed, tracing a path down over my tummy to my mound. He parted my labia with his fingers now and drew his tongue down the slit to my swollen, aching clitoris and started to lap at hit repeatedly which had me crying out in ecstasy. I gave out a gasping cry as I came for the first time.

Not yet done despite my orgasm he drew his tongue down to my gaping wet hole and pushed it in, licking round the neck before drawing it down to my rose bud and lapping at it. He licked hard then drew his tongue up and down the crack of my ass back up to my clit in long broad strokes over and over again until I cried out as another orgasm consumed me. Finally he sat up and looked at me, my face a picture of total satisfaction and, as contented as I was, it was not over. No, he now rested his hard cock in the neck of my hole which made me shudder and gasp. He very slowly began to prod, taking care not to push it right in. Several times he took hold of it with his hand and removed it to stroke up and down my crack from rose bud to the top of my slit which had me close to orgasm yet again but for his control over it. He knew when to stop as if he could read my breathing. And I heard his breathing too which left me in no doubt that he was close to coming as well. He just seemed to stop in time and check himself. He was clearly enjoying semi-orgasm of the male kind, leaking fluids but not ejaculating.

I had never had sex like this before, I was bound arms and legs spread out and collar too. And he had controlled the whole act remaining erect throughout and never quite coming himself while I orgasmed repeatedly. He was amazing and I now knew that whatever he did to me it would be worth it. Indeed, I wanted to have more. I wanted the pleasure and the pain.

He pushed his cock half way in me and rested, probing gently for my G-spot. He was exploring my vagina, not just fucking it. Again he brought it to the neck of my hole and pushed up over my vulva to meet my swollen clitoris. I felt the head of his cock touch me there and gave out little gasps with every prod. He just kept it up and again stopped to halt his orgasm. The he pushed back into my hole half way and pumping steady, stopping then continuing until I could not hold out any longer and told him I would come.

He stopped half way in and asked, "What are you, girl?"

I looked up, panting and struggled with my reply, "Your slave, Master."

"Wrong answer," he growled and went on, "say what you are, Slut!"

I took his lead and repeated, "Your slut, Master"

"Wrong answer," he growled again and this time slapped my face, "say what you are, whore!"

I was crying again and shaking my head, my pussy desperate to come as his hard cock rested half way in me. "Master!" I begged, "help me understand?"

He didn't answer and rammed his cock in to the full extent of its length, his pelvic bone crashing on my clitoris, pummelling me senseless then I came with him and blurted out, "Girl is your fucking cunt, you bastard!"

He came hard and slapped my mouth as I cursed him.

For some minutes he lay flat on me panting, his cock sliding down of my vagina as it shrank in size and finally slipping out releasing a flood of sperm running down the crack of my bum. When, finally, he spoke he said quietly, "Tomorrow I will decide what punishment to give you for your disrespect."

Now, most girls hate that word, C*** and I am no exception. It is the most demeaning thing someone can call you yet he was happy with that. It seems I finally answered correctly. But, in his view, it was a different matter when i called him a bastard. That was considered highly disrespectful on the part of the slave and would get me a serious beating which my ass would never forget.

FOOTNOTE: Two days later I was enjoying the sun in the south of France, lounging by a terraced pool at a luxury villa overlooking the Mediterranean sea. Master is wealthy and could give me a much better life than I had hitherto known so long as I kept my place and proved myself a good slave. He was a fantastic lover too and I loved him more than I hated him - and I know part of me still hates him. But I had not met Sissy yet or the babies and it would still take meeting them and finding that Sissy was my new sister before I could take that leap of faith that was needed to finally submit in mind as well as body.

In the next part of my story which I shall continue to call Submission (part three in this case) I will tell how Master introduced me to a gathering of his like-minded friends. He took me on his arm, not as a slave but as an escort to be treated as a lady initially but soon to be left in no doubt of my position as I saw how real subs behave. It would be an eye-opener for me but I did learn much more about Master's lifestyle and get a better idea of what it means to be a submissive. I also get to meet Sissy for the first time but am still left in the dark about the house in the country.

This story is based on real events that I remember and I have told it as best I can to make it an interesting read. Not every detail or comment is factual but it's very close to what happened to me several years ago when I first met my Master.

One of those days

2008-09-23T19:37:00.000-07:00

I really, really did mean to post Submission part 2 today but Master came home without a word of warning. He arrived in a foul mood which meant Sissy and I were in deep shit!

Yeah, we both ended up standing side by side in the lounge with hands at out sides and eyes down cast. He was ranting.

It's not that we had done much wrong,,, well I don't think so. Anyway, to cut this short, Master had lost out on a business deal because, one, he was late for an appointment, and two, the deal involved another Master who somehow caused things not to happen the way our Master wanted. And the reason was us,,, like, Sissy and I.

It seems the last time we were at a gathering at the old boy's place (the other Master) he caught Sissy and I chin-wagging about him (he over heard us). Master had given Sissy to him for the evening (probably to do with the business deal) and she was telling me she felt sick, meaning the old boy was old and smelly. Well, there was more said but this is short.

So, the upshot of all this meant that we spent most of the afternoon and early evening just standing there, even when he had quietened down. You see, Masters (well, out Master anyway) have this horrible habit of punishing you by making you stand for hours on end,,, usually naked.

Thank our stars we weren't naked.

Well anyway, Master lectured us on the good practices of slaves, respect and all that. In other words, a slave can't win (I shouldn't be saying that. Hell, I shouldn't be writing this blog!). Ours not to reason why, ours but to do and die.

Finally, he had to let Sissy attend the babies but I still had to stand there like a dork for another hour (I did try to say there were two babies to bath - didn't work).

So it was not a good day and truth is I don't think he lost the deal, whatever it was, because of us. I just think he was late and the whole thing fell through and he was kicking us when he should have been kicking himself. All's well now though. I think.

Back in the country

2008-09-22T15:20:00.000-07:00

I was honestly too busy with Sissy and the babies over the weekend to do much else but I did manage to post Submission (part 1) before I left London. I had to cut it short and break everything I've been writing down into parts as you see. But today I did make a good effort to get the next part ready and I expect to post that tomorrow. But I warn you now, Part 2 is longer than part 1 and covers the week after I left Master's West London apartment. It tells the story of my break up and almost "break down". I meet a drunkard (disaster) and finally return to Master for steamy sex and,,, yes, well, you will see.

Anyway, I arrived back home in the country on Saturday and was greeted by Sissy. Oh, her little smiling face was a ray of sunshine. With Master away on business still and me up in London she was feeling pretty lonely with only people in the village shop to snatch a conversation from. You see, the house is a little isolated but the views over the downs are wonderful.

We hugged and kissed as the cabbie humped my cases from the boot of his cab and dumped them on the ground. Poor man; I had been talking all the way from the station and I could tell he was glad to get shot of me. I paid him and gave him a little extra for putting up with me - as well as a bright smile (he was so cute). Then I looked at the cases and back to him with a pleading grin. He got the message and carried them to the doorstep (such a nice man).

I wiped my lipstick off Sissy's cheek and handed her a bag. "That one is for you." I chuckled and her eyes lit up. Once in the house she could barely wait to see what I had bought. She knew it would be clothes (it's always clothes) and right away she lifted off her top and dropped her shorts then pulled the gift from the bag. She pulled the little number over her head and let it fall down around her as I moved in to straighten it and check the fit. The mini Empire line dress was really cute and fitted her a treat. The fabric was silk chiffon and it had pleating on the bust with wide sheer floral patterned straps. She loved it and gave a twirl.

We sat for almost two hours chatting then, after bathing the babies and putting them to bed, we had some eats. Finally, we snuggled up on the sofa to watch Strictly Come Dancing and gorge ourselves on chocolate. It was good to be back.

Submission (part 1)

2008-09-20T14:25:00.000-07:00

The early light was bathing the bedroom in soft golden hues as I lay there wide awake while Master was still dead to the world beside me. It was the morning after I had been fucked for the first time by him and my thoughts were fall of it. I kept reliving the event in my mind, going over it in every detail and, of course, my hand was between my legs stroking.

In my mind I was elaborating the event, changing it and setting it in another time and place. I imagined what it might be like to be captured by a Romanian sex-slave trader and used to service clients against my will. To be bought and sold like a piece of merchandise, to be degraded and subjected to all manner of humiliation. More than once I reminded myself of the danger I had faced. What if he turned out to be some kind of sex maniac or serial killer I thought? No, I told myself. Yes, I told myself, it could so easily have been that way. I could be dead now and floating in the Thames. But, crazy as it might seem, even that thought became a turn on for me. In fact it was not the first time in my life I had courted danger. I just know from experience that fear and sex are without doubt powerfully erotic bedfellows.

Master had taken me by force and I wanted to get fucked so I wasn't sure if it counted as domination. It certainly wasn't rape but it was unexpected and done with a lot of force initially. Thus, I had no trouble taking the essential meaning of what he did, his tone, the orders and my willingness to submit to him, and turning it into a web of fantasy. I reached orgasm easily. It came on in waves like several light orgasms before the big one. When the big one came the image in my mind's eye was that of a helpless naked girl being dragged to her feet on the auction block for display to a gathering of eager buyers.

Master woke up now which brought my fantasising to an abrupt end. I sat up, my breasts on show for him and softly said, "Good morning sleepy head."

He half smiled back then yawned and motioned with his hand as if to wave me away from him. "Coffee..." he said while still yawning.

Unusually, I reacted favourably and bounced up out of bed then, without bothering with a robe, cantered to the door. I looked back over my shoulder as I opened it and caught him starring at my bottom. Before I could walk through the door, he said, "Wendy, you have a lovely body."

I gave a little giggle as I left the room, his words music to my ears. I was thrilled at the compliment and excited. In the kitchen I found myself playing with the cup in which I would serve his coffee and, deep in thought, brought it to my breasts unconsciously as if I might warm it first. I was like an adolescent girl in love for the first time. This day I wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted to please him.

While the kettle boiled I played with my hair fixing it up so my long slender neck would meet his gaze when I returned. I giggled playfully and put on my shoes believing this would tease him. Me, naked, hair up and in stiletto heels. That is how I re-entered the bedroom and crossed the floor to the bed side. Naked, gently bouncing breasts and swaying hips. One leg crossing the other walking to him with coffee in hand. He starred directly at me with no expression as I lowered myself to my knees beside him and held out the cup.

He took the cup and just held it then he spoke, saying, "I think I need to say something to you."

My head tilted and a smile played on my face but I dreaded he might be about to apologise for the night before. Had he done that then the magic would have been lost instantly. He would have become just one of the many lovers I had known. I so didn't want him to say sorry, to become ordinary, to be one of the same.

"You do understand the situation I hope?" he asked.

I think I nodded but I really didn't understand what he meant.

He sipped his coffee then went on, "Look, I know for you it's all a game but can't you forget games for a moment and open up your mind to what I might really want from you?"

I shrugged and answered, "You like the idea of owning me as a slave I guess. But its still a sex game, right?"

"Forget about sex games!" he snapped.

"Well, fuck," I retorted, "are you wanting a real Master and slave relationship? Is that what you want?"

"Yes, you submitted to me," he answered telling me.

"Hey now,,," I came back, an angry chuckle in my voice, "A game is just that, a game and if you think you can really own me then forget it. I don't believe this. I'm too independent to be anyone's slave. Why are you spoiling everything?"

He sighed but didn't respond and I just stood up and fumbled about searching for my robe which I pulled on as I kicked off the shoes. I knew I was in danger of ruining the day and even that was making me angry. In my mind it had promised to be a perfect day. Here was a man I really did feel something for and more so given the action of the night before. But he was serious and I could see it in his face. In fact all along he had shown a masterly tendency which was something I liked but I never for one moment thought it would come to this. He really did want to own me. Not a girl friend nor lover, not even a kept mistress or a call girl. He wanted a slave. He had been cultivating me!

I was stood looking out the window and neither of us was saying a word. I was biting my tongue hard trying not to ruin everything or belittle him with stupid angry words. I really didn't know what to say and just kept shaking my head as one thought tumbled over another in my mind. It was my fantasy, a lovely sexy fantasy but now I was having to face stark reality for which I was not equipped.

Maybe ten minutes passed and still neither of us spoke then he got up and went to the bathroom which broke the silence. I turned and watched him leave anticipating he might say something. He didn't utter a word so I went to the kitchen to make myself coffee then sat at the table grumbling in my head.

Shortly he entered the kitchen too. He was dressed smartly ready to go off to work. He put his suit jacket on the back of a chair as I got up and offered to make him more coffee. Nothing more was said until I placed the cup in front of him and retook my seat. We sat opposite each other at the kitchen table and he said thank you then we began to talk.

We spoke for some while and I was left in no doubt that he meant everything he had said. I was being given a choice. The relationship was over and we were not going to see each other again unless I made a commitment to him. The fantasy was dead, at least for now. To save the day I would have to give total submission, obey him and trust him.

My eyes were weepy and the tissue in my fingers was constantly wiping my nose and eyes. I wasn't angry now but I was confused and more than a little disappointed. It was like my world was falling apart since I had really grown fond of him. He was ending it, throwing me out and for the first time in ages I was feeling the effects.

Oh, In my time I had seen grown men cry and beg me to stay with them. I had been a hard bitch and never would suffer fools. I couldn't stand weakness in a male. To crawl to me crying was guaranteed to hammer the last nail in the coffin yet here was I, crying over my loss. My pride was still intact though. I was a modern woman, not overly feminist but a lot of things had changed in my life where women were concerned. We had all been exposed to changing attitudes and political correctness and I was no less empowered than any other western woman. Yes, all men are bastards but still, they are still bastards we can't do without.

Eventually, he looked at the time and got up saying, "I have a meeting in an hour so I must go."

I nodded, looked up and in little more than a whisper replied,"Ok"

He got up and put his jacket on before checking himself in the wall mirror, pulling his cuffs down and twisting his neck to straighten his collar. Then he did the strangest thing. He left the room and returned carrying a smallish box and placed it on the table. He opened it and took out a black leather collar designed for a woman's neck and placed it in front of me. I was speechless.

"I got this for you," he said then turned, pushed his laptop in his brief case along with some papers and zipped it up.

I was still starring at the collar as he left the room. Moments later I heard the front door close.

I picked the collar up and felt it then left the kitchen and went to the bedroom to look out the window. He was getting in his car, starting it, pulling away. I just watched and dropped the collar on the floor. The tuff old bird in me was telling me to get out and don't look back. I could handle it. I was no one's slave.

With Lady Reason still gnawing at me trying to bring me to my senses I sauntered over to the bed and laid out where he had lain. I could smell his scent on the pillow and closed my eyes. Soon I was crying again and burying my face in my hands. Then my face was in the pillow smelling him. I tossed and turned then found my hands reaching down to my pussy. It had grown wet just by me taking in his aroma.

My clitoris swelled up and I began stroking, my imagination taking over all thoughts. He was taking me again just as he done last night, bending me over, lifting my skirt and ripping down my knickers. I could see his erect cock pushing into me, fucking me hard and I masturbated myself harder to match. Almost at the point of coming I stopped just like he had done and sat up. I was starring at the collar on the floor.

I swung my legs off the bed and got to my knees, crawling towards the black leather collar. When I reached it I laid out flat on the floor with it before my eyes and ran my finger around it. I was studying it, looking at every detail. It had a silver buckle and a leash ring. My finger hooked the ring and I lifted it while my other hand touched my neck.

I got up slowly and walked to the mirrored doors of the wardrobe. There I stood looking at my naked body. Lady Reason had been banished from my thoughts now and I began to unfasten the collar. I lifted it to my neck and put it on then fixed the buckle tight and dropped my hands to my tummy, clutching it. A wave of excitement ran through me as I eyed myself in the mirror then I pushed one hand down between my legs.

I lifted my chin and closed my eyes momentarily while pushing my head back. One hand gently stroked my pussy while the other caressed my body rising to my breast and cupping it. I could feel my erect nipple and gasped slightly, the pang of orgasm already starting.

It was all so surreal and I was lost in my fantasy as my head came back and my eyes opened slightly. All around me it was misty and I could hear voices in my head, the bustle of a market and an auctioneer calling out bids. I was being sold.

My fingers were sliding down my wet slit and over my swollen clitoris as they descended into the neck of my vagina. The bidding continued in my mind and the price began to rise. The masturbating gathered pace then as the auctioneer called out "All done, sold!" I came...

Oh my God I came with such force. I was panting and trembling, my legs were buckling from under me. I was crying out and tears rolled down my cheeks.

Then, as the waves of ecstasy subsided, the images and voices in my mind vanished. I was angry again.

I turned sharply and went to the bed and grabbed the pillow and started to beat it down on the bed covers shouting, "I fucking hate you, you bastard!"

"I HATE YOU, HATE YOU, HATE YOU!"

Still shouting abuse, screaming and beating the bed I eventually crumpled on it cuddling the pillow close to my body. I was crying hard.

Gradually I settled down and silence returned broken only by an occasional whimper from me and, finally, I heard myself saying in a weak voice, "I love you."

FOOTNOTE:
What you have read is based on real events that I remember. I didn't submit easily as this part of the story shows but I was being drawn slowly into a shadowy world of Doms and their subs. In the next part I will tell how I found myself back with Master. Part of my story involves a twilight world where a small exclusive group of wealthy men enjoy ownership of willing slaves, trading them to one another and even winning them in card games and gambling. In time I learnt that some of the men have Masonic links as well as being part of a secretive network spanning many countries. I will tell of exclusive BDSM parties too, often in other countries where the trading continues. All the while the slaves, myself included, enjoy the good life so long as we all know our place. All the people involved are consenting adults and I have never seen any evidence of a crime being committed.

In part two of Submission, I try to stay away but something deep in me draws me back.

Shop till I drop...

2008-09-17T21:18:00.001-07:00

Hehe, what a day. I was up really late after my night on the tiles. But, by midday I was dressed, makeup on and raring to go. You see, my friend was meeting me and we were off on a shopping trip, clothes being the focus of our treasure hunt. Now, I don't have to want for much, Master pays off my credit card every month and I am happy to spend his money. Why not? Even slaves must have a good wardrobe or her Master would be looking at a girl in rags. Now that wouldn't do at all, would it?

Well, we went to Oxford Street and cruised the stores seeking out the latest fashion and, though I say it myself, I know what to look for. For me anyway. But I am mindful of Master's taste too which means elegance. He loves to see me in revealing evening dresses, preferably low cut to show off my ample cleavage, a slit to offer a glimpse of my leg and backless - as low as is remotely decent.

Shoes are very important too. Master loves my height and big heels give me the catwalk look and hip movements that tease his senses. And this reminds me of the time I was fucked leaning with my back to a tree in the park. Being tall definitely has its advantages.

Anyway, I want to work on my notes so I will leave it there for tonight.

Not at Home

2008-09-17T21:18:00.000-07:00

This is just a quicky to say I'm not at home with Master and sissy right now. Master is travelling on business and sissy is just doing what she always does, looking after the house, kids, watching TV and counting the days until Master returns. Me, I got bored and took off to London.

Now this meant I didn't have time to post any updates until now. But I am working on the continuing story of how I met Master and became one of his slaves. I must say it's not easy to crunch things down to readable posts and still keep the time-line logical not to mention I have to skip over so much detail but I do intend to make a good effort.

It's kind of late right now (4.30 am, GMT) and I was out partying with a friend who knows about my relationship with Master (not many do). I wish I could say I had a great time but, alas, I didn't. Sure I had a drink and met some blokes but not any I would seduce. All the men were quite young and clearly lacking experience while those over thirty didn't do much for me either. In fact some of them I wouldn't inflict on my worst enemy - not that I really have any enemies *chuckles* (well, maybe one).

Anyway, I can say I am writing some notes and I hope to post something more interesting in the next few days so watch this space *falls into bed*

Another Day...

2008-09-15T10:11:00.000-07:00

I really didn't expect to get a comment so soon after just a few posts so it was a thrill to see one and such a pleasant one at that. Thank you T *smiles* Now I know I wont be talking to myself which has given me an early boost.

I haven't done a lot today. Apart from creating the avatar I did spend some time in the garden at our house which is really nice right now with the September roses blooming. I sat for a while with a book too but kept thinking about the things I want to write as time goes by. I'm sure people want to know about my lifestyle living as I do as one member of a threesome. So I will say a little about that now...

I met Master in London a few years ago. I was out shopping for shoes and Christmas presents and stopped off at a wine bar to get a drink and find a table to write some cards to send out. Well, to cut the story short (I will write more about it another time), I was sitting opposite a rather handsome middle age man. He had already caught my eye when I sat down and as it turned out he had noticed me too. I had gone to one of the small tables out front facing the passers by and the traffic as it was quite crowded inside. He was speaking on his mobile phone as I sat down and placed my glass on the table. I remember thinking it was too busy here to write cards but I wanted to catch the post and rummaged in my bags to find them anyway. I began penning but I couldn't help hearing him speak. He wasn't shouting but there
was a firmness in his tone that I found commanding and it did appeal to me. He was a
business man which I gathered from what I heard and there was clearly something he wanted done. Soon enough the call ended and he put the phone away and within moments he said something like, "Ah Christmas, it comes so soon."

I looked up and gave a brief smile in acknowledgement and carried on writing. All the while he watched me. I was conscious of this but I wasn't about to move away and, when I was done, I looked at him, smiled and lifted my glass to my mouth. I did feel just a bit awkward but I sensed he wanted to speak to me and I waited for the chatup line. He never said a word though and I was feeling disappointed so I took the lead - well he did have those eyes I like so much.

Now, I don't usually have to chat men up so I am pretty lame at it if I have to. All I could think of was asking him to keep my seat as I went to find the loo. I thought if he is still there when I get back he will start to chat again and I will nail him. He was very polite and agreed and, much to my delight, he was waiting for me on my return. We struck up an immediate conversation which lasted 20 minutes or more before he said he had to be going. He gave me his business card and told me to call him.

I called him the next day and we chattered for all of an hour then he asked me out to dinner. I had cracked it and so I was going to make a good impression and dress up well. He met me at the station, driving up in a very expensive car, and whisked me off to Knightsbridge to an upmarket restaurant. It was a wonderful evening and I was sure he would suggest going to a Hotel before the night was over - I was expecting (and wanting) to get laid that very night. But, alas, it wasn't going to be that simple. He drove me to the station and with just a peck on the cheek I was dropped off. But he did take my number.

I really thought I had lost him and it came as a surprise when he did call me and there were to be many more similar nights out. Much to my growing frustration, however, he never fucked me once in that time and I never got to know about his house in the country or Sissy. He would bring me presents and I, being independent, gave him presents back but I just couldn't keep up with the cost. The gifts he was giving got ever more expensive. In the end I concluded he was a sugar daddy and just wanted an elegant woman on his arm who knew her place. Certainly, when we met up with business people he knew and I found myself sitting with the little wives and girl friends while the men drank at the bar and talked business. I actually started to learn more from the ladies than I did from him.

Eventually my patience ran out. I couldn't see any future for us and I was as horny as fuck. The vibrator and my had were taking such a bashing. I mean, I was being loyal and straight with this guy and I was feeling bloody rejected. What was wrong with me? What was wrong with him?

Finally I cracked and confronted him head on in private and asked the question. It went something like this...

I said his name and asked, "Is there something wrong with me that you find unattractive?"

"No" he said in a quiet tone.

"Okay..." I said then went on, my hands now making gestures, "Why don't you take me? You bloody well know how I feel!"

"Calm down girl" he replied, raising his tone.

It was red rag to a bull time for me. "Girl!" I yelled, "Don't fucking call me girl!"
With that he grabbed me and I screamed. He brought my arm behind my back and turned me round pushing me down hard flat on the table with his knee rammed between my legs. He was so strong I could barely move then he lifted my skirt right up exposing my ass. A million thoughts were going through my mind and I was still struggling against him but I knew he was going to fuck me from behind. His hand took my knickers and they were ripped down sharply.

I squealed again and he barked at me; "Silence!" he demanded as his fingers felt for my hole. I gave some jolting movements but obeyed him and descended into some pathetic whimpering. I was letting him have his way because, after all, it was what I had been wanting but I had not expected it to happen like this. Moreover, my anger had worked me up raising my receptiveness to a level I had never known before. And he was taking me by force.

I felt his fingers push deep in me and his thumb pressed into my ass hole. He was lifting me like that into position. I was being prepared like a piece of meat.

Both his legs got between mine now and he finally let go of my wrist. Moments later I felt his finger leave me then he brought out his erect cock and stroked the head up and down the crack of my ass.

"Is this what you want girl?" he said coldly.

"Yes,,," I mumbled.

"Yes what?" said he.

A brief silence from me as I tried to understand that. "Yes, please" I answered like a corrected child.

He repeated, "Yes, what?" The tone was louder as he continued stroking my slit with the head of his cock.

I was confused but so worked up and desperately searched for the right answer then it
dawned on me. I had been in situations before like this but not in real life. It was chatrooms in Yahoo years before. I had role played erotic games with Doms in BDSM and Gor so I simply said what I would have said there, "Yes Master"

With that I was rewarded when his big cock pushed into my hole and he began pumping.
I started to shake and moan then pushed up my ass up onto him, working together. He slide his hand down my leg as he leaned over me which added to the sensation. He brought his hand back up again and followed the curve of my hip then, with both hands he took hold of my hips and started to work me against him.

I was dripping wet and at his mercy. I wanted him, his cock in me and i cried out, "Yes,,, yes Master! Fuck me Master! I'm coming!"

Much to my frustrated despair he suddenly stopped without warning and pulled it out, saying, "Did I say you could come?"

Now, I knew this from role play, slaves use to have to beg for permission to come and they always spoke in third person so, like a well trained actress I read the script in nano seconds, and answered, "Master! Girl begs you Master. Please, Master let girl come."

He said softly, "Do you submit to me girl?"

My eyes widened. Was this in the script I asked myself? It wasn't but hell I was going to come anyway and all reason was out the window, not to mention third person response.

"I submit Master!" yelled I and he rammed it back in. The heavens might have opened up and swallowed me as I came, so strong the orgasm was.

Master came too and ended up laying over me. We were both totally exhausted. When, finally he pulled away, I slid down off the table like a wet rag and sprawled out on my back looking up at the ceiling with a happy grin on my face that must have said it all.

Back to the present and I have to say what happend in the story above is a fictionalized version of real life events that I remember. There is a lot more in that story however but I will continue it later. I have to stop there for now but suffice to say, what was said in the heat of the moment became an issue that was beyond any game. I had submitted to him and he was going to claim me.

At that time I had no intention of being anyone's slave but this man held a power over me that I can't explain - even to myself. I had done all the BDSM stuff for light relief and fun in chatrooms so I knew enough about it and what might be expected of me. In a way it was like a fantasy coming true. And fantasy turns me on so perhaps it is as simple as that.

I have lived with a few men before but the fire always went out of the relationship and the reason, I just got sexually bored trying to be faithful when they were incapable of giving me what I needed on a long term basis. Sure enough it was great at the beginning and we fucked like rabbits but it's like anything with me. There has to be another story. Apart from that I can't have babies so they nearly always pointed that out as things broke down. It was my punishment.

Oh and Sissy does have babies. They are part of our little family so there is another reason why I stay. Go figure.

Good Night Sweetheart

2008-09-14T17:05:00.000-07:00

I'm back already posting on the same day, this my second day here...

The house is quiet and I was relegated to the kitchen to watch the Fashion Show on TV while Master and Sissy were curled up on the living room sofa watching something else. I just looked in as my programme finished and the pair were sparko, Master sprawled out with his head in Sissy's lap and she with head laying back and mouth wide open catching flies. I was tempted to pop one of the strawberries I was munching in her mouth - evil bitch I am!

So I left them be and went to check on the babies, both sound asleep and snuggled up in their cots. Awww, they look so angelic - luv'em.

Now I'm back in the kitchen with the lap top, the music of McFly from the Fashion Show still ringing in my ears and the image of the blonde singer imprinted on the retina of my eye. It helps with the boredom I now feel and so here I am talking to the blog for want of some conversation.

Oh, I do like a rugged looking man with long shaggy blonde hair. Blue squinty eyes like Richard Gear. No, Patrick Swazi. Hell, I just go into meltdown. Wake up girl and concentrate!

I been thinking about my blog and some of what I want to write apart from my hunger for erotic sex. I have this idea of making and avatar look-alike in SecondLife and using her to make sexy pictures of me for my blog (What, you don't know what secondLife is? see my note below). Well, I am quite good at graphics and a dab hand at using SecondLife. For over a year I have been there fooling around and meeting and chatting with people from all over the world - mainly the USA. In fact I have been using the Internet since 1995 and spent many a happy hour in chat rooms over the years. Indeed, contrary to the stuff in the Channel 4 documentary about women secretly living out their fantasies on blogs like this its actually been happening a lot longer than the time that blogs have existed. It has been going on in chat rooms for years.

Of course women think about sex. To listen to the media people going on about it and how liberating blogs have become to allow women to talk about their sex lives anonymously you would think we had just been freed from the dark ages. What I did agree with was that Zoe Margolis (author of the blog, Girl with a One-Track Mind) was treated badly being cruelly 'Outed' the way she was. I agree the sexist tabloid press just wanted to put women back in their place. Fuck you I say!

I have read a lot of Zoe's stuff and I am right there with her, and leaving a wet patch on my chair to boot! I mean, I find it so erotic the thought of a handsome bloke I had only just met fingering my wet pussy in a crowded bar. OMG! I would cum too. The danger someone would notice given they were only feet away fires my imagination. I must do it sometime but I know a lot of women wouldn't though they might like to. Fear of being called a slag, whore and worse is a seriously powerful preventative.

It takes me right back to my teens when on one occasion I was hanging out with four lads in their beat up old car and we was just driving around aimlessly. Well, four males and one female with nothing to do, something has got to happen right?

Well it did but not in a way that I remember fondly. I was in the back seat between two lads and a lot of saucy banter was being exchanged. I had a short skirt on and legs on show up to my ass. There was a lot of touching and, being immature kids, a whole lot of play fighting with me being the one to get most of the bruises. Anyway, someone mentioned how big the lad to my left was in the trouser department and me, being a silly cow urged him to flash it which, to my giggling delight he graciously obliged. It was fucking huge!
I mean, hard as a rock and standing there to attention. My eyes were popping out of my head while the others cheered him on.

I am sure you can imagine what came next? And yes, the lads now egged me on to wank him off which I was not adverse to doing though certainly hesitant. Jeesss! I was only just sixteen. But I took a deep breath and grabbed it. Oh man it felt good. I wanted to suck it right then and there but no, I began rubbing up and down and he just sat back proud with a smirk on his face while the others watched and grew silent. Now maybe it was a man thing but one of the lads in the front seem to get agitated - perhaps he was suddenly feeling inadequate. I mean, the huge togger made my hand look really small. I was busy stroking then the grumpy lad suddenly blurted out, "Wendy, you are such a slag!"

The others laughed and I shrugged but carried on. Grumpy looked away then the owner of the throbbing cock gave out a short moan and came all over my hand. It was like a fountain shooting in the air and I remember we didn't have a tissue between us. Well, to cut it short, Grumpy turned back and as we tried to clean up he lambasted me, "I can't believe you Wendy! Fucking little whore" he went on.

It was all directed at me like the lad who had just had all the pleasure was somehow blameless. I was so young and I remember not answering back or defending myself but I felt a terrible sense of shame coming over me. My head was actually lowered and my face flushed with embarrassment. I couldn't get out of the car any faster than i did and ran home crying. It made a lasting impression on me and I never wanted to be made to feel so dirty again. And it was so unfair. There was I, just a kid, excited by being the centre of attention and doing just what I thought they all wanted. Don't get me wrong, I wanted to do it but why was I the one to be made to feel dirty when Grumpy himself had been with more than a few girls and none of them were virgins? Fuck, I still was a virgin!

Well, I know that little story is not unique. It must have happened a billion times in so many ways. When a woman expresses her sexuality outside of the bedroom she looses her purity in men's eyes. Not all men of course and a lot women too guard their own perceived purity by taking a similar view which serves to reinforce the sexist attitudes that are a old as time and still exist to this day.

On that note I guess I have run out of steam and its time I get off to bed. Master and Sissy will be up there already and fast asleep so I will check the doors and turn out the lights and snuggle in on the other side of Master. I wont be playing with myself tonight. Too many memories now.

NOTE: www.secondlife.com is a virtual world made by the residents who live out their lives as animated lifelike avatars.

Warming up

2008-09-14T09:28:00.000-07:00

Oh damn! I am so itching to get blogging being the social talkative creature that I am. But, yeah well, at this stage I know I will be talking to myself. Fingers crossed it wont be for long.

A nice thing about being in a full time threesome is that house work gets done quicker once two women know each other's boundaries and pet hates. My sissy is wonderful and very domestic unlike me. I am really lazy about housework but fine with washing, ironing and clothes mending. You see I love clothes (what woman doesn't?) I love clothes almost as much as I love sex. Well, they kind of go together don't you think?
I like to dress well and a lot of my income goes in that direction. I'm a complete clothes whore in fact!

Im quite tall (5.7), have a slim figure, eat sensibly and I keep in shape. Being born in the sixties and a child of the seventies I have a particular love of clothes from that era. The mid to late sixties must have been a wonderful time for young women. After the greyness of the fifties the explosion of the London swinging scene saw so much expression in fashion, design, music and art. I read a lot and am really into that period of fashion, so much so that half the clothes I own are throwbacks to that time. Ebay has been an Aladdin's Cave for me but Porta Bella road has provided me with many hard to find outfits as well - particularly accessories. Mary Quant and all the rest. Thank you swinging London *hehe*

Of course, my bottom draw is stuffed with lingerie and Master loves nothing more than when I waltz around the house in nothing but heals, seamed stockings, a thong and a basque. A seductive basque, they boost your boobs, hold in or cover your tummy, and look divine - what an invention! And when Sissy, small cute and oh so girlie, joins in the fun it's more than poor Master can take. No matter how tired he is it wont be long before both off us have been given a good seeing too.

I am very much the leader of the girlie pack when it comes to initiating playtime. Sissy can be quite shy in fact and rarely takes it upon herself to start anything unless she is alone with Master when I guess he clicks his fingers and she jumps to attention. I know he fucks her silly. I don't respond to direct orders so well. The thing is I like to seduce him - that's my way. But that's not to say I don't like being seduced too, it's just I like it to be a game. I'm quite imaginative and whim wham bang bang is not for me. I would never reach orgasm if it was like that.

All my life I have been that way. Even at a young age I would be turned on by reading erotic stuff and as the story hotted up my hand inevitably reached down into my knickers to play. I would become totally absorbed in the story and my fingers sank deeper and deeper into a very wet pussy. As I have already said elsewhere I have a larger than average clit which does get quite hard. It gets clipped between my wet fingers as I frig away. Then I start to cum big time, the book falls away and imagination takes over until I cum. Many a time I have been left out of breath, panting with tears streaming down my face.

Wow, I have to go play!

Girl of all Seasons

2008-09-13T12:03:00.000-07:00

My first blog post! Why am I bothering?

Well, I wanted to do this long ago but I was worried that keeping a blog of my most intimate thoughts, fantasies and desires might be read by people I know. Yes, I can do this anonymously but one never knows if some slip could give a clue to my real identity. Once the record is here on line there is no escaping it or the consequences if people I know find out what I have been writing. Family and friends would be shocked and, while some close ones might be forgiving and less judgemental, others would be troubled I know. Moreover, as I want to talk about my relationships with lovers, I really don't want to hurt any of them or loose the friendship I still have with some of them. Ok, now I have that off my chest where do I go from here?

I read somewhere once that the first chapter of a book is critical in that you give the read a good idea of where the story is going, what its about, setting the scene, etc. So the best thing is to say something about myself and what I want from the blog and let it flow from there.

I am female and forty something but still have a good figure, pert breasts and a youngish face. I am single but in a relationship with two other people (yes, that's what I said. Its a threesome). I share a male partner with another female, she being 10 years my junior and the mother of "our" two daughters. I am childless for reasons explained below. I am close to my "sister" (the other female) and we share our life together in a good relationship which is happy for the most part. The male we happily call "Master" is very dominant, cool and intelligent. We both respect him and obey him but he believes in free love and its very much an open relationship that we enjoy so long as nothing that is harmful is brought home. For my part I am more dominant than my sister, she being a true submissive. I being a switch that can go either way. Indeed, born under the sign of Gemini I guess I am truly a girl for all seasons.

You see, I am intersexed and what that means for the uninitiated is that I was born female but with chromosome problems. I developed in the womb as female but there were problems with my physical development which caused gender ambiguity. In the past we were called hermaphrodites but the term intersex is more often used these days. The legacy of this is that I am female but with some differences. I have a normal vagina that gets wet just like any other woman but a larger than average clitoris which I can say is very sensitive and just big enough to enter a little way into another woman and make her cum, but I have to take an awkward position to do this. *chuckles* Sadly, my condition denies me the joy of motherhood which is the down side. However. I don't intend to dwell on my medical condition as it makes me no less a woman. In fact, in some ways it actually helps me to understand what a man feels perhaps better than other women. After all, I have a little cock that actually sticks out of my labia. Its not a huge thing like a man has got (well, some men anyway - seen a few not a lot bigger than mine!). But it dose become more noticeable when I'm really turned on. It gets harder as it swells and, though its not an erection like a man gets, it is hard enough to be felt by a female lover. And there has been a few that have enjoyed that pleasure.

I am bi of course but sexually I enjoy men more than women on a one to one basis. However, when I discovered what it was like in a threesome involving myself, a handsome male and a beautiful feminine sister I have never looked back.

So, my blog is about the trails, tribulations and exploits of a very liberated and different kind of woman. I intend to talk about my past in guarded terms, about the things I have done and my ongoing activities as time rolls on.

I hope that if people find my blog and start to read it they may learn something about intersexed women. Particularly that they think just like other women and have sexual desires and fantasies too. I expect my early entries will be a little exploratory as I develop my style of writing and the approach I want to put on it. I want to write short erotic stories too which I might even act out in real life if possible so I can really get the feeling for what I will write. Maybe I can attach the stories separately or offer my readers an eBook copy. We shall see. Another thought at this stage is that I possibly will use SecondLife to create pictures and even short movies to add to my blog. After all, anonymity means there will be no real life photos - sorry.

Well, that is my first ever blog post. Lets see where it goes. Thank you if you are reading this.