Nothing poetic tonight, just a simple post. King and I spent a little time doing a photo session for pics to use on the blog, as I hate using other people’s photos, clip art, etc. I wanted to share one of the pics with you. I have referenced my deer hide flogger several times in posts – it’s my love! In case any of you are in the market for a beautiful flogger, purchase deer hide. I highly recommend. It’s the best made flogger we have ever owned, tested and true!
Category Archives: slave
I find myself here as a blanket of darkness surrounds me. My arms are bent to form perfect right angles against my back. The soft Japanese rope silken to my skin as small plumes of flesh escape at either side of the bind. My wrists are one atop the other, partners in the challenge of maintaining the required position. From the ladder laced between my parallel arms spawns a woven road to an anchor point in the ceiling. A slight ache emerges from the inflexibility of my muscles; an ache transforms into pleasure as I breathe into the binds, allowing them to become one with my own flesh. My sight removed from me. I now stare into a darkness that is as endless as my determination to withstand what may. In the end, You will be proud of my will, King. I will make You proud.
“Challenge me”, I whisper to You as You place five heavy, beautiful beads of stainless steel inside of my sex. You seal my fate with a kiss before commanding me to spread my legs wider, marking two areas on the floor with a material I can feel on the pads of my toes. I imagine a thick glue holds my place, unable to slip, unable to budge. As the space between my thighs expands, I become a vice around the spheres internal. The metal seeming to surpass my body heat, feeling like small orbs of pure sexual energy within me. Steely, my determination to impress You. Tight for You. Watch what Your treasured cunt can do for You…
My walls dripping of sweet glaze. My focus intermittently interrupted with the thud of my favorite flogger. The scent of deer hide leather fills the room – intoxicating. I find myself in a crux of ecstasy. Each thud upon my athletic thighs and my thick ass transports me higher. A drunken relaxation veils over my body as the autumn breeze. I’m both equally vexed and utterly seduced.
My stubbornness exhaled with every breath as the air smells of my obedient defiance. You have transitioned to a device for punishment. Oh, and You know me so well, so fluent in the language of me and my capable vessel. You lay the gauntlet before me, my King. With each calculated strike, my mind becomes a fogged street. An intoxicated haze fills the space surrounding a deliberate focus, as a single beam of light through a heavy mist. Thoughts break themselves from the ray, slightly fractionated, but the focus remains. My head begins to bow as my body gives way onto the binds for support, my fortitude gives way to frustration as I teeter a pencil thin line – one side of temerity and the other surrender. My head falls in acquiescence, my hair a waterfall of my succumbing pride flowing before me. Your strong hand grips my chin as if Your hands cupped together to catch the spill, offering the liquid back to my lips. I feel Your breath as You slowly and purposefully move your lips over my neck and to my ear. Your words, a deep and calm whisper, grab my attention like a thunder clap that rattles through the quietest of nights:
“Beloved, you will keep your chin up. You are my warrior, my valkyrie. You will hold your head with pride because I am proud to have you as Mine. Proud to have you by My side, fighting any battle life may put before us. I’m proud to have you on My arm, to show you off to the world. Proud to leave My mark on you, My claim inside of you. Mine. The punishment I give you is not to belittle or break you; My punishment is to build you up and make you stronger. I will correct your behavior when I need to, and I will help you be better. You are My wife, My beloved whore, My warrior and greatest ally. Show Me how strong and capable you are, My valkyrie. Do not let Me see you drop your chin again.”
I immediately correct, the fog lifts, and I’m standing in a meadow of absolute mental clarity. I am Your valkyrie! We have many conquered battles behind us and we have some wars before us. This ax of insolence I wield at the world – this ax is not for You. The shield I adorn keeping a true “me” from view – this shield is not for You. Ego, the steed that carries me and rides me on high – he is not for You. The many wounded in my wake, in the name of You and my love for You – You will never find yourself among them. Casualties, they were far too weak for me. I have always been strong enough for You.
Lifting my head, I note a heightened awareness of my value, my preciousness. The heart that smolders within my chest – this heart is for You. My flesh before You; full breasts, wide hips, physical feminine wiles, tethered and tied – My flesh for You. The strength inside resides – Empowered by You. I rise because I’m me. I hold my head higher due to You.
As You continue to correct me, to build me, I will show You. My King, look at my strength, see my devotion. Look at what I can do for You.
My diamonds are at home. He cleverly hid them from me as punishment for leaving the house sans wedding rings yesterday. Yet, my collar graces my neck in a way more personal than a wedding band surrounds the finger…
People put so much stock in marriage – the crux of commitment, intimacy and trust; yet, so many marriages are without all three. I have never cared for marriage much, finding little connection to the union. Being married never made me feel committed. In fact, I have only been able to commit to one man, no matter what my marital status had suggested.
I feel my marriage is an afterthought by comparison to the commitment I have to serve and obey my King, who is also my husband. My marriage has been reinforced by our lifestyle. Our marriage enhanced by my servitude and his personal conviction to cherish what is His. His because we choose, regardless of the piece of paper between us.
Society recognizes the rings on my finger as a symbol for marriage. The same metal and stone combination that grace the finger of the vast majority of women. Only a few people would recognize my collar as my commitment to serve. Both bring me great pride to wear. Both are a symbol of my devotion, eternally.
However, I prefer the “weight” of my collar.
In celebration of the New Year, I’d like to wish you all a happy and prosperous 2015! I thought I would throw that little “feel good” energy before I go on about my regular writing.
As I’ve indicated before, I don’t really concern myself much with marriage or the condition of the institution within society. I believe marriage should be a beautiful expression of love; but, as love has many layers of intensity and can be fleeting in nature, I am left untroubled by the crumbling of unions. I do feel there is a significant contributor to the disintegration of marital bliss, despite the numerous messages culturally programmed into us suggesting the contrary…
Putting the kids first.
I know many dedicated parents who subscribe to the cultural kid-centric groupthink, and I can hear them shaming me in my head for the words I previously typed. I could not care less. I feel with great passion that we have deviated far from lifestyles that encourage lasting monogamy, a difficult practice to maintain to begin with. I also speak often of how marriage and monogamy is particularly juxtaposed against male evolutionary development. Worse, we have relatively abolished adult right and welcomed children to participate in an authoritative position within the household. We wonder why society suffers from an unruly and dysfunctional family life. We wonder why the majority of the populace suffers gravely from a false sense of entitlement. But, we keep treating little Johnny and baby Janie like they should be the center of our universe, the sole reason for living, and our only source of enjoyment as adults. I feel the sex most slighted from this misappropriation of importance are men.
A mother will often care for her boys with tenderness, providing a feminine love much different than the love a boy experiences from their father. Boys learn that they are to be valued as a contributor, a provider and the “head of household”. Society sends a similar message to boys, encouraging strength, competitiveness, emotional hardiness, power, and success. These messages cultivate a mission within boys to behave a certain way, and by the time they become men, they associate an expectation upon those they are romantically involved with: They assume they will be valued for their contributions to the home and to the relationship. But, conversely, we are teaching women quite the opposite. An emphasis on importance is being directed away from the wife, and pointing toward the “mother”. At one time, it appeared that “wife” and “mother” were in agreement. Now, it appears that it’s all “mother” and a big middle finger is being given toward men and being a good “wife” – Unless we need the men to contribute their sperm, of course.
I have seen women quickly neglect men from the moment their eyes gaze upon their child. Sure, a woman can say that it’s because a baby requires more, a man is self-sufficient, and he should not need to be cared for. A woman could argue because of the baby time is scarce, and because of this, there is little time left for the husband. A woman could uphold that both she and her husband agree that the children should always come first. I am just going to step out there and call bullshit: You got the greatest contribution from the man – his seed and his money – Therefore, you hold little regard for him after. He becomes a side note, a hindrance, and a nuisance. Women cluck among each other, “I have three babies; two children and a husband.” I have heard women say, “My biggest child is my husband.” I have never heard a woman say among female gatherings how much they value their husband as a man, as an individual, apart from what he does for her and the children. To most women, men are a vessel of production; their value does not extend beyond what they can provide. Sadly, they often won’t complain and suffer in silence, because they were taught not to be needy. This is a disgrace. Men need tenderness, appreciation and love for their contributions. They need to be acknowledged. But, women are often too busy bitching or making bracelets on their daughter’s rainbow loom to care. No wonder porn is more comforting…
Children should not understand their place of value is greater than that of the parents. Children should understand that they do not have the power to dictate every day decisions made in the household. Children should not be requested to be more adult than they are by allowing them to make decisions that affect the well-being of the entire household. I will go on further to state that I appreciate that my household is headed by a man who assumes all of the decision making. Certainly, we take things to an added extreme while operating within our 24/7 Master/slave relationship; but, that dynamic only encourages a power hierarchy that enables the children to understand their place. They do not get to make decisions that impact the adults, especially my Husband. My husband places the greatest of priority upon the health and well-being of his wife. We both understand that the children are our first responsibility; however, they do not get to occupy the place of household priority. They are valued above the relationship maintained by the adults. They have consequences for their actions and how they impact the household. They have expectations that are akin to those reasonable for a child. Everyone has their place.
You cannot show your appreciation for your man in the same ways you wish to be appreciated. Men need to be shown appreciation in ways more tangible. They need to be fucked. They need to be loved. They need to feel appreciated by drawing their dick into your mouth and selflessly pleasuring them. I realize I sound exceedingly cliché, but I believe men should be provided delicious meals and a loving touch along with kind words. Men need you to remember they are visual, and present yourself in a way that show you value yourself for your own feminine allure. He needs you and your love as desperately as your child, he just won’t scream and cry until he gets it. His lack of vocal outcry does not make his needs less important; on the contrary, his reluctance to ask for doting affection and attention shall serve as a warning sign that he is growing despondent.
I am merely arguing that women need to acknowledge that children are the first responsibility, not the first priority. A distinct differences lies between responsibility and priority. You can tend to something else, such as a child; meanwhile, you can acknowledge that your husband is the priority. I believe that the adults in the household need to maintain that the two of them, and the health of their relationship, should be the first priority. As children are deliriously needy, allow them to be your number one responsibility – understand the difference. Hopefully you will raise your children to be self-sufficient, well rounded, and independent adults. You will not achieve this by allowing them constant priority and attention. They will grow up and build homes of their own. Once the dust settles on raising your little family, you may see the only person left to stand beside you is that man you devalued – if you are lucky. Make him your first priority, and your children your first responsibility, and you may just be holding hands to watch the dust settle together.