He peed in my ear and up my nose and my ear tickled all day and the essence of urine randomly exploded in my mouth all day too, and when I said maybe I would get an ear infection he shrugged and said that’s what antibiotics are for.
and then this other time he stood behind me while I was on the treadmill and whipped/smacked/hit/paddled me for about an hour, but he was super nice and kept the speed low because I was having trouble keeping my balance and he didn’t want me to fall and get hurt (o.O).
No, so really it’s been pretty eventful here at Master’s house. There’s been bondage and pain and sex and service and objectification, all intermingled with periods of just sitting around, relaxing and watching movies, or with him off doing his own thing while I do chores or fuck off online. We go out a few times a week, shopping or to a restaurant or just to explore.
It’s been amazing, honestly.
I have to try and temper my lust for more. I’m all faster/harder/deeper/do it again, just a common junkie seeking a better high. The more I get the more I want and I very very easily and very quickly fall into thinking he’s just not doing enough, not using me enough, not performing to my fantasies…
…and then I have to look back over the last few days and tell myself to shut the fuck up already. He’s doing, ffs. He’s on me like flies on shit, micromanaging, correcting, demanding. He gets served and serviced. I’ve cooked and presented, cleaned and pampered. He’s gotten pedicures, been bathed, I’ve washed his hair, sucked his dick, dressed him and undressed him. I’m sore in all my holes, sore all over my body, I have bruises and welts in various stages of healing, I’ve been pissed on, smacked around, bloodied, ass-raped. I’ve cried, I’ve orgasmed, I’ve cried WHILE I orgasmed….
And somehow my brain tells me to beg for more? WHO DOES THAT? lol
I’m naked most of the time, collared and cuffed 24 hours a day. He found the njoy (boo) so that goes in today and will probably stay in for… forever. Or who knows. Until he wants his dick in there instead. He bought chain and padlocks and he’s going to start chaining me to the bed again, and shackling me when he’s here. Because he likes the looks and the sound and the limited movement and the control.
He wrote out a white board and planted it right where he can see it when he walks in the door after work. It’s my exercise schedule and my chore schedule. I’m to check them off in green marker when I finish, or mark it with a red x if I didn’t get to it. Then we’ll “discuss why there is any red on there, cunt”. I’m BFF’s with my fitbit again, and I have to write down what my number is before he gets home and if I’ve done all the exercises he’s assigned me I’ll “easily be at 10,000 steps before noon”, and then at the end of the night write the total for the day down again.
Here, I took a picture of it, for funsies. He calls it the cuntrol board (get it? control? cuntrol?):
Check out those motivational magnets, eh? Haha. Weekends are open, as you can see. He decides how the weekends will go on the spur of the moment.
He’s controlling my food more than he ever has. I’m allowed one cup of coffee in the morning (that has to be in my ‘cunt’ cup, I’m not allowed any other cups), and then nothing but water the rest of the day. Absolutely no sweets, no baked goods, no pasta. I get 1/2 cup of berries (whatever kind I want) and 1/2 of a banana in a smoothie if I’m having a smoothie, with one cup of unsweetened almond milk. And I can have an apple a day if I want one, but that’s it for fruit on a regular day. (Subject to change at his discretion, of course. Like tonight I’m cutting up a watermelon and he may or may not allow me some.) I can have eggs, 2 a day- sometimes I’ll have one for breakfast and have a hardboiled one on a salad, other days I don’t have any eggs. I can eat all the vegetables I want to eat, I can have salad and I can have meat in limited quantities. I can snack on seeds or almonds.
Unless, of course, he specifically gives me permission to eat other things. Like the other night we had pizza for supper, (delivery! woot!) and I was allowed some of that. Because he still has a sweet streak, and it pleases him to treat me once in awhile.
It doesn’t please the scale, but whatever. It’s his body, right? He can fatten it up if he wants to. :)
All of that to say he’s living his dream, which means I’m living my dream.
And when he finally has to travel I’m going to turn into a basket case because that stuff ~flaps hands at all of the above~ is addicting and it gets into my head and fucks me up and when it all gets yanked away and I’m left to my own devices all day with no one to answer to it tumbles me around a bit.
Sometimes I wish he’d have a fill-in-dom, lol. Someone to step in when he’s away, but I don’t see that happening. He’s not much of a sharer. But a girl can dream right? ;)
Besides, I already know I can function perfectly well when he’s away. Been there, done that. I just wish I didn’t have to. -whine-
So, speaking of him being a hardass, I better git to gittin’. Or else. O.O