Showing posts with label marks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label marks. Show all posts
Nov 1, 2013
A little play goes a long way
We had some time together this morning, alone at home. Mistress chained me to the bed, and proceeded to methodically and calmly cut my back, alternating with dropping hot candle wax on it. It was slow, painful, mindful and beautiful. And it looked pretty, too.
Jul 24, 2013
Tattoos and trouble
I have my first ever tattoo now, finally. Or well, not as finally as I would have liked, since it isn't finished yet. It took to long, and about 1,5 hour after the time I had told Mistress I would be home, I said enough, and decided that the rest would have to be done another day.
In a way, it sucks. It sucks that the design got much more complicated than I had anticipated, that the appointment was made in a hurry and at an odd time, and that before I called it a day I got a terse text message from Mistress that even though she would try to be supportive and loving when I got back, she was furious and disappointed and worried that it would cost a lot more than agreed on, and that she would have a hard time being supportive.
And I totally got that.
Fortunately, the cost didn't sky rocket, we had agreed on a price before hand (thank god!) and it's now paid (almost) in full by the money I got as a graduation gift from my dad and his side of the family. I got home 1,5 hour late and didn't get to say good night to little S, which sucked, but we hugged this morning and she forgave me. Mistress did too, of course, once I was home again and eaten dinner and we had cuddled for awhile.
But it feels a bit typical for us. I suck at making plans and keeping track of time, she sucks at having plans change or things not going as she has expected. So the simplest things can turn in to huge drama, and this wasn't really a simple thing.
I wanted the tattoo to be a beautiful reminder of who we are for each other. I guess it is, now. For good and bad.
It is beautiful, by the way. And just before we fell asleep, when I was lying chained to the bed on her arm, and she had said good night so that I wasn't allowed to speak any more, she whispered in my ear that I was her slut, her good little girl, that she was proud of me, and as the last thing, that I was her marked little slut.
And I love that I am.
In a way, it sucks. It sucks that the design got much more complicated than I had anticipated, that the appointment was made in a hurry and at an odd time, and that before I called it a day I got a terse text message from Mistress that even though she would try to be supportive and loving when I got back, she was furious and disappointed and worried that it would cost a lot more than agreed on, and that she would have a hard time being supportive.
And I totally got that.
Fortunately, the cost didn't sky rocket, we had agreed on a price before hand (thank god!) and it's now paid (almost) in full by the money I got as a graduation gift from my dad and his side of the family. I got home 1,5 hour late and didn't get to say good night to little S, which sucked, but we hugged this morning and she forgave me. Mistress did too, of course, once I was home again and eaten dinner and we had cuddled for awhile.
But it feels a bit typical for us. I suck at making plans and keeping track of time, she sucks at having plans change or things not going as she has expected. So the simplest things can turn in to huge drama, and this wasn't really a simple thing.
I wanted the tattoo to be a beautiful reminder of who we are for each other. I guess it is, now. For good and bad.
It is beautiful, by the way. And just before we fell asleep, when I was lying chained to the bed on her arm, and she had said good night so that I wasn't allowed to speak any more, she whispered in my ear that I was her slut, her good little girl, that she was proud of me, and as the last thing, that I was her marked little slut.
And I love that I am.
Mar 24, 2013
Knife play
"Knifes seems to suit you" min friend I. said in chat today. And she also said "write a blog post! I'm out of things to do besides studying." So I guess I'll comply.
Knife play does suit me. Or well us, since I think it suits Mistress very well.
She's taught me very well to be still and relax when she tortures me. In the beginning I used to trash around a lot more. Now, I usually get to that place where I lie perfectly still much more quickly. I know some enjoy watching their victim squirm, and I actually enjoy a good squirming now and then, but Mistress doesn't and that's that. She wants me still and isn't all that interested in my input, and so I'm still and quiet.
So going from tying me up and beating on me to tying me up and cutting in to me isn't all that big a leap. She gets so very concentrated I can feel it. I feel like a canvas she uses to make art, and that's a form of objectification I love. I can let go of myself and just be, exist, nothing demanded of me. It helps that so far she's tied me up very securely so I don't even have to put in the effort to keep myself still.
It hurts, of course, but it's a different kind of hurt than being spanked or whipped, and not necessarily worse. Many implements for beating seems to be constructed to do the least amount of damage with the most amount of pain and impact. A knife is a bit the other way around. There's a lot of damage being done, but it's precise deliberate damage, and it doesn't hurt as much.
The heart is still on my shoulder, all the scabs are gone but there's a faint red line where they were before. A beating with marks that lasts for two weeks? It would have been one hell of a session, and it would have taken hours. The knife is special because it is both much worse and much less when it comes to pain and impact than any of her other implements.
Also, the mere idea of having her over me with a frikking knife in her hand! There's impact right there, without her doing anything at all.
Knife play does suit me. Or well us, since I think it suits Mistress very well.
She's taught me very well to be still and relax when she tortures me. In the beginning I used to trash around a lot more. Now, I usually get to that place where I lie perfectly still much more quickly. I know some enjoy watching their victim squirm, and I actually enjoy a good squirming now and then, but Mistress doesn't and that's that. She wants me still and isn't all that interested in my input, and so I'm still and quiet.
So going from tying me up and beating on me to tying me up and cutting in to me isn't all that big a leap. She gets so very concentrated I can feel it. I feel like a canvas she uses to make art, and that's a form of objectification I love. I can let go of myself and just be, exist, nothing demanded of me. It helps that so far she's tied me up very securely so I don't even have to put in the effort to keep myself still.
It hurts, of course, but it's a different kind of hurt than being spanked or whipped, and not necessarily worse. Many implements for beating seems to be constructed to do the least amount of damage with the most amount of pain and impact. A knife is a bit the other way around. There's a lot of damage being done, but it's precise deliberate damage, and it doesn't hurt as much.
The heart is still on my shoulder, all the scabs are gone but there's a faint red line where they were before. A beating with marks that lasts for two weeks? It would have been one hell of a session, and it would have taken hours. The knife is special because it is both much worse and much less when it comes to pain and impact than any of her other implements.
Also, the mere idea of having her over me with a frikking knife in her hand! There's impact right there, without her doing anything at all.
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