Tuesday, August 12, 2008

The Pet



I want to see this movie! Basic idea is there's a troubled American girl who meets a rich French guy. They date, he suggests she becomes his submissive, well more than that, she will be his pet. She agrees and falls in love with her Master - then it gets a bit weird from what I seen from the trailer (not this one) but the french guy has a bit of a collection of "pets" and one night he goes on a slave auction website to find out the value of his property. Just out of curiosity. Some bad guys (Russians probably - they always are) steal his collection to sell on the black market and I'm guessing the rest of the movie is Master and pet fight to be reunited.





Mr X is back

I ignored his calls, texts and e mails for as long as I could but I wasn't strong enough to resist any longer. I know I'm a glutton for punishment and I'll probably regret allowing him back in a few weeks. In saying that he has changed. He said he's accepted that I'll only meet in my own time and before he had a hard time dealing with that as he felt we weren't going anywhere but now he said he'd rather have me in his life just as we are now than not at all. I think he missed me. I still don't think I'm ready to meet him, not because he's married, not becasue I don't trust him, i do. If there is anyone I want to go down this submissive path with, its him. I trust him. He's stuck around for about a year and a half now - am I being niave thinking that maybe I might mean something more to him than "just another slut"?

What we have chatted about is me being his sumissive, his puppy, his pet. That's why I think I would really like to see this movie. In reality would it be what I imagine. Will I be able to submit to him? How will I feel having to wear a collar, being lead on all 4's by a leash? eat and drink from a dog bowl, Having to sit at someones feet, having to put his needs, his wants before mine? Giving up control scares me and excites me in equal parts. Having these doubts, will this mean I will be a shit submissive, a complete disappointment to him? I have body issues (i hate my body) am i going to be comfortable enough in my own skin to display myself so fully to him? No clothes, No sheets to cover up with, thats all part of the deal, thats what he's bought into and the conditions I have accepted. These are just some of the bricks that make up the wall that is blocking me from taking that next step.

Saturday, August 9, 2008

Cunt

Re-Posted :This is one of my favourite stories and it gets me off everytime. I had forgotten about it until today and it still has the same effect today as when I first read it.

Cunt


He calls me cunt because that's all I am to him. A cunt for him to do as he pleases with. I have no name, I have no face, I have no purpose but to serve him.
"Cunt!" he yells through the house. "Get your slutty little twat over here."
I scuttle into the kitchen where he stands, looking at me with disapproval. "What the hell is this?" he demands. I look around but am uncertain to what the problem is. Everything looks to be in place.
He grabs my hair and yanks my head downward. "This," he tells me, showing me the scuff marks on the floor. "Get down there and clean this shit up." Then he throws me to the ground, smushes me to the ground with his booted foot, and throws a wet rag on top of my naked body.
I don't wear clothes around the house, I'm not allowed. I am a cunt and that's all I am- so why would I cover that up? Why would I be modest? I do as my master tells me to and parade my shaved cunt around wherever I go. He tells me several times a day that it's the only piece of me worth a dime. And even then, it's worth just about that.
I wash the floor on my hands and knees, my blond hair dragging in the mud while my master looks on amused. It gives him pleasure to see me in pain or humiliated. I keep my body close to the floor, knowing that if I lift it too much, I will be punished. Sure enough, I am too high off the ground and his boot comes down on me once again. "I want your tits to drag bitch." I lower myself both physically and with humility. I am his cunt. I must do as he commands.
"Who's little cunt are you?" he demands, as if reading my thoughts.
"Yours Sir," I answer promptly and with, I hope, the proper amount of humility.
"Your little cunt sir. To do with as you please."
The small kitchen floor is clean now and he orders me to roll over on my back. Then he takes the rag that I have been cleaning with and wrings it out over my body. The dirty cold water trickles over my belly and back onto the floor.
"What will my little cunt do for me?"
"Anything that you ask, Sir."
"Lick up that water from the floor," he directs.
I reach my tongue out, quivering. I don't want to do it, but I know I must. Just as the tip of my tongue touches the dirty brown puddle, he shoves me again with his booted foot and I sail across the floor and land unceremoniously in a heap.
"That's enough," he orders. Although his tone is still sharp, I know I have pleased him by my willingness to obey him unquestioningly, "Now, mop it up with your hair. Keep your body low. Your tits to the floor," he reminds me.
As I use my shiny blond hair to sop up the muddy floor, I can't help but cry. I know this was meant to be better than being forced to lick the dirty floor clean with my tongue. Certainly, it is better. But I feel so humiliated, dragging my body over the floor and using my hair as a rag. Fat tears run down my face. I know I am not allowed to wipe them away without his permission so I continue the job he has assigned me.
"Aww. Is the little cunt crying?" he asks in mock sympathy. His voice is full of scorn and contempt. "I love a nice wet cunt. You know I do. Cry for me cunt. I want you dripping wet when I fuck you.
"I try to cry silently, not giving him the satisfaction of my sobs and I am mainly successful. I finish the job and lay there on the ground dirty and humiliated, waiting for his instruction.
They come in a very physical way as he grabs my hair and pulls me up to my knees. A shiver goes through my body as I wonder what further abuse awaits me. Knowing my place, I keep my eyes low, focused on the floor at his feet. I hear rather than see him unzip, and then he reaches down and grabs my chin, pulling my face up toward him. He grasps his cock, hard and proud in his hand and wipes it forcefully over the tears on my face. I feel his organ twitch and grow still harder as he does so. "Oh yes," he says, "This cunt is going to be nice and wet when I fuck it."
Now he lets go of my chin and takes a hold of me by the sides of my head with a fistful of hair in each hand. "Open up cunt. I'm going to fuck you now." My mouth opens for his use and he inserts his throbbing cock past my lips. I have no time to lick or tease his cock-head as he immediately begins fucking my face, even as the tears continue to fall. I nearly gag, but he has trained me to take it deep into my throat and I do my best to relax and accept it."
It's a filthy little cunt," he comments "but at least it's nice and wet." It is me that he refers to as 'it' as I am nothing but a thing to him, a cunt to use as he pleases. I am here for his pleasure and my own is incidental. Nothing more than a testament to his own prowess.
"That's it cunt," he tells me. "Every part of you is a cunt for me. Even your mouth is just another cunt for me to fuck. You're worthless as anything other than a cum rag, and you know it." My body is on fire as the sting of his words burns through me. An uncomfortable arousal is growing within me. I need this to feel free, to allow myself the pleasures that lay ahead if I please him. I need this, but it hurts just the same. I don't want to need it but I do. As the tears flow down my face, I can only hope that his words will become even more hurtful and humiliating. I need to take this abuse as much as he needs to give it. My nipples twist up almost painfully, as if to prove that there is pleasure in my pain.
"Choke on it bitch!" he screams as he rams his cock deeper into my throat. "Your pain is my pleasure. Choke on my thick cock." He rams it deep now, yanking my head in toward his stomach. The force is greater than I can bare now and I succumb, choking and sputtering on his forceful tool. He pulls out of me, pleased that he has overwhelmed me, knowing that I can endure no more.
"Does the little cunt want a proper fucking?" he asks disdainfully.
"Yes Sir," I answer, barely above a whisper.
"Then get down on all fours and bark little bitch.
"I can do nothing but obey. My knees hurt from all the time I've spent serving him on this hard tile, following every direction given as quickly as my body can move. My barking is sharp and high and comes out even sharper as he slaps my ass forcefully with the flat of his hand. "Oh yes, a cunt has to be nice and red," he tells me as he spanks me again and again. My barking does not cease. I tremble to think what punishment would befall me if it did. Now that he has assigned me the roll of a dog, my punishment would surely follow suit.
"Dirty. Filthy. Bitch." Each word is accompanied by it's own harsh slap. It is difficult to tell which hurts more or which gives me greater pleasure. "Nasty. Twat. Cheap. Whore. Low. Disgusting. Worthless. Trash." The insides of my thighs were damp and he knew it. Instead of slapping my burning backside again, he pushed a finger past my ass-cheeks into my wet quim Slowly and tortuously he teased my hungry lips with small circular motions designed to make my arousal progress. Sure enough, I could soon feel my liquids dripping down the inside of my legs.
"Your twat is wet, cunt," he tells me. "Dripping in fact. I can smell your skanky twat juices whore. I know you like being treated like a filthy rag. Why don't you tell me how much you like it."
"Yes Sir," I answer with a shiver. "I love it when you treat me like a filthy cum rag and use me for your pleasure. I love it when you humiliate me and make me cry. I'm just a worthless cunt. I don't deserve to be fucked by your magnificent cock. I don't even deserve to be allowed to serve you. Thank you for letting a worthless cunt like me serve you and be your soiled cunt rag.
"The words send further shivers through my body. I have not made them up on the spot. Presently I can't think. There is no way I could have formed the thoughts to answer him properly. A week ago he gave them to me, neatly typed on an index card and ordered me to remember them. They are the only acceptable answer to his question. If I am off by even one word, the punishment will be severe. Every week or so, he writes me out a new response to memorize and part of my job of serving him is to learn it immediately and flawlessly. He accepts no error, no mistake in my service. Only total compliance.
"You're right cunt. You don't deserve it. But what you really are is a piece of shit whore, aren't you?"
"Yes Sir."
"Say it cunt."
I can barely choke out the words. "I'm a piece of shit whore Sir."
"Why cunt? Tell me why?"
This is the hardest part. He always seems to put me through it. I take a ragged breath and begin. "Because when you found me, I was so desperate, I was willing to do anything."
"You're still desperate aren't you cunt?"
"Yes Sir."
"Only now what are you desperate for?"
"You're cock Sir. Please. I've got to have it."
"Oh dear, my slutty little cunt. You need to do better than that. I've heard you beg. I know you can do better."
"Master please," I start to beg. "I have to have your hard cock stuffed up my wet twat, Sir." I am not allowed to call it a pussy because that sounds too nice and I'm not allowed to call it a cunt because that is all of me. A cunt may not have a cunt and a cunt may not have a pussy. A cunt may only have a twat. "Please Sir, I'd do anything to have that magnificent cock crammed up inside my horny wet twat. I need it Sir, I'm a horny slutty little cunt. Please let me have it. My slutty little twat is dripping soaking wet. I'm begging you. Use my twat as your fuck toy and then use the rest of me as your cum rag. Please master, Please."
Real tears of longing and frustration came into my eyes. My body was in such a high state of arousal the thought of not being fucked, the idea that he might leave me there on the cold tile to suffer was beginning to be physically painful. I was willing to suffer any torture to be fucked by him and fucked hard and he knew it. I had done it many times. I had submitted the most unimaginable humiliations and pains just to be allowed to reach my tongue out to touch the tip of his cock.:
"Please fuck your property, Sir. Your little cunt is a nasty little nymphomaniac. My only pleasure comes from your cock and from serving you."
At last, I had found the right words. I was rewarded by him grabbing a handful of my hair and yanking my head forcefully. "Will you swallow my load cunt? Will you like up all my jiz when I empty my balls all over your face? Will you clean your juices off my cock after I've fucked your twat and made you cum on my dick?"
"Yes Master, please," Not only would I, I couldn't wait for him to shoot his wad across my lips and chin and neck. He never comes inside me, but always on me. It's one of my favorite parts and gets me horny all over again until he's ready to fuck me some more. He keeps me in a constant state of arousal so that I'm ready to be fucked and willing to do anything at a moments notice.
I could barely stand the wait by the time he plunged his monster thick cock into my crevice. I could feel him spreading my hunger lips as he entered me, all the time keeping a firm grip on my hair. His strokes where long and measured but hard, firm. He slammed into me each time, causing his balls to slap into me from behind. The pressure on my knees made it difficult to stay up, but my hungry pussy demanded that they not give out. The pain in my ass burned out of control. My head hurt from constantly being yanked around. Yet I craved more pain. "Pull harder!" I begged him as he gave my hair a good yank.
His thrusting sped up now, and I knew he'd be cumming soon. The thought of his salty spounge on my face made me lick my lips hungrily. "Feed me your hot cum," I begged him. "Let your little cunt swallow it all down like a hot meal.
"He grunted and gave me one last thrust as my twat contracted and juices flowed from it. "Come for me cunt bitch," he commanded needlessly. He pulled out of my sopping wet gash and yanked me around to face him. His cumm shot out in hot jets over my lips and my open mouth. He could have got it all into my mouth, but her preferred to cover my face with the sticky goo. When he finished, and his balls were emptied across my cheeks he shoved his cock at me for cleaning. I sucked all of my juices off him until he pulled out of my mouth and ordered me to clean myself off. Now I scooped the cum up from the sides of my face and into my mouth and swallowed it noisily.
I wanted to lay there decadently enjoying my own sluttiness, but he had other plans for me. "You've used up your purpose here cunt. Now go to your cage till I want you again." I crawled to my room, a barren square with a large metal cage and let myself in. My master came in to chain my arms and legs to the bars so that my legs were spread but I could not touch myself. The only other thing in the room was a TV and that was turned on to some porn. Here I would wait in sweet agony until my services were needed again.

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Masterbation


For the last few days I've had this terrible anxious feeling. Its a tightness in my chest and i can't quite breathe right. The air just doesn't seem to go all the way down to the bottom of my lungs, no matter how hard i try to breathe deeply. I hate this feeling because I'm on edge expecting something bad to happen and i hate to admit this but it usual does.

One of my ways of de-stressing is masturbation. Masturbation has been something i have done since i was very young. I remember lying in bed at night making myself cum and I couldn't have been any older than 5 or 6. It would be many years before I realised what I was actually doing and that it had a name. I never gave it much thought, even up to my 20's. Its something I've always done, it is a part of my life and I can't remember ever not doing it. I find it very hard to sleep at night if I don't cum. I never talked about masturbation with anyone, I knew it wasn't really something i should be doing. I've never hid the fact I masturbate from my sexual partners.

My ex who i was with and lived with for 3 yrs asked once when I started. I told him I was very young, about 5 or 6. He was a bit shocked and said "you know that's not normal??" I got a bit defensive and brushed his comment aside. What right had he to tell me what was or was not normal behaviour? He wouldn't drop the subject - he said more than likely I was molested when I was younger because children that young don't know about their sexual organs. I completely dismissed this theory and didn't give it much more thought. Years later and i started to see a psychotherapist - turns out he was right, i was molested but I'd blocked it out. The brains a funny thing really, how it can block out something like that, so much so that i had no recollection of the incidents until many many years later.

I'm very grateful that I do masturbate, i know many women don't. I feel doing so has so many benefits. It helps me sleep, it helps me wake up, it warms me up on cold winter nights, it de-stresses me (which i think for me replaces the need to drink or take drugs to get that high), it eases any aches or pains i may have, its hugely pleasurable, its free, it keeps me young looking (scientific fact)... the benefits go on and on and i personally think there should be a campaign to get women to masturbate more. By exploring your body you know what turns you on, what gets you off and that can only be good when with your partner.

Friday, August 1, 2008

Friends...gone but not forgotten.

Tonight I'm feeling very alone. This is why i try to stay so busy, this is why i have 2 jobs - so that i don't experience this horrible feeling of emptiness inside. Most of the time I'm happy enough with my life but every so often i stop, and then get time to reflect fully on what exactly I'm doing with my life.

Yes i have a job and I'm not worried about money, yes i have a roof over my head and the fact I'm renting I'm glad about considering current threatened recession. Yes i have friends but not the real soul mate tell anything to kind and i have no one special in my life.

One of the greatest sadness's and regrets in my life is the loss of 2 of the most special friends I've ever had. Its been over 6 yrs now since we fell out and my heart still breaks on nights like tonight when i think of them both. I never felt like i belonged or was accepted more than i did when i was with them. We were friends for 10 yrs, we went to school together and moved in together when we went to college. We shared various grotty holes (rented as flats) for a further 5 yrs and I've never had such a fantastic times in my life as i did when i was friends with them. The most menial chores like going to the laundrette or down to the shop was fun. I look back on that time and all i can remember is laughing.. i know it wasn't always like that and we tend to remember the good times but honestly 90% of those times were fantastic. I've gone over and over in my head so many times where out friendship broke down. I can't pinpoint anything in particular that happened but over the space of a year we drifted apart. Getting real jobs and working different schedules didn't help but it was more than that. I was changing, i didn't think i was changing as a friend to them, i didn't think overall i acted any differently but when we did go out and i let loose the slut within - this caused friction.

I resented the fact that i was given the silent treatment after a night out if i brought a guy home. They didn't do that as much as me but it didn't meant they didn't do it at all. Did i treat them in the same way after a night that they may have brought a guy home - no. It didn't make them any worse of a friend just like i believe it didn't make me any worse of a friend either. Over time i was given the cold shoulder and frozen out. I worked different ours and more and more i didn't go out with them anymore.

Eventually things got so bad we stopped talking altogether. I knew things were truly over when my birthday came around and we didn't celebrate together as we always always had. I moved out and that was the end. I look back now and wonder if i would have changed anything. Would i not get off with those guys on all those nights out. To be honest, i would still do the same again. It was part of my sexual awakening. I needed to experiment, to get it out of my system. My only wish is that they would have accepted me as i was and not judge me for what i did on a night out once a week.

After all this time I'm still not over it. I still cry on nights like tonight for the years of great friendship I've lost. Don't get me wrong i have a wide circle of friends now but none, well none quite make it to the gold circle. As friends go they truly were my soul mates. I miss them.