Deprived or Depraved?

It’s been a crap few days really… too much stress… too much work… and not enough money…lol. That always seems to be the pattern though. You’d think you’d get used to it and stop being so damn blind-sided by the crapola.

There isn’t just a whole lot on the bdsm front because of the aforementioned crud. It’s funny, I can say something like that “isn’t just a whole lot on the bdsm front” and mean it, yet there are others who see my daily existence as complete bdsm. It truly amazes me how quickly you can get so accustomed to something that it no longer impresses you.

The other day, Master bound my hands to the footboard of the bed and while fucking me (hard and painfully) from behind, He used one of the various blades that are laying around the bedroom (I dont even know which one) to slice, cut and stab at my ass and dangling breasts. I have a roadmap of cuts across my ass, though my breasts are relatively un-marked. I was in tears. I was begging. There is just no describing the hard, cold glint that sparkles in Master’s eyes when he’s intent upon hurting me, how my tears incite him to push me farther. There is also no denying that I came several times.. that I *gushed* so hard that it dripped onto the carpet between my legs… that Master enjoyed, and laughed, at my embarrassment (and my anger at my once again betraying cunt). When he was ready, I greedily took his cum-soaked cock into my mouth and sucked it clean and dry…

He’s enjoyed, much to my irritation, slapping, pinching, rubbing and biting the cuts left by his blade on my ass. I’ve enjoyed looking at them in the mirror. Every trip to the bathroom warrants a quick pull down of the pants and admiring glances. Tracing them with my finger (with my hand shoved down the back of my pants), liking the quick burn from the salt(?) off my finger as it slides into the cuts. Sometimes, I truly hate that he knows me better than I know myself. He confidently told me that I would like it later.

I do, Master. I love it later. Thank you.

Yet.. there hasn’t been much on the bdsm front lately… ;)

Why is it, that at the time, I could happily break the knife in two (or cut up the flogger, snap the clamps in half, etc.) and later… I’m begging for more more more please. I’d sure like it if I could enjoy it the entire time. But then again, Master isn’t a huge fan of the phrase “warm up”. And secretly, afterwards, neither am I. The afterglow is stronger, lasts longer, deeper when the scene is done his way.. and not catered to my wimpy desires. I’d like to find a way to get from point A to point C and skip point B please, if You don’t mind. Send me straight to endorphin-land and keep the pain…:). Please-and-thank-you.

My experiences with drugs are pretty limited. I’ve tried pot (it made me puke so that was that) and I’ve tried cocaine. Now the coke, I liked. Alot. I mean.. alot alot. It had a horrid, horrible, awful aftertaste but wow… I liked that rush. And because I liked it so much, I never did it again…lol. I knew that I could easily get hooked. But that same rush is close to how I feel after a particularly mind-blowing scene, without the aftertaste and numb teeth. I am just as hooked on the afterglow as I would have been on the coke. Master is my supplier, pain is my drug and I am an addict.

God, I’m corny…lol

So I was reading this on Kindlings the other day.
“2. Do you enjoy deprivation of certain things you once took for granted?
If it occurs within your dynamic:
- Do you find it to be annoying/frustrating?
- Do you find that it is just one way amongst many to remind you of your status?”

The answer, obviously, is yes and no. And… sometimes, not always and often. Hehe. I would have to say that Master doesn’t deprive me of much. He’s really quite generous. (When it comes to having him help me diet, he’s downright soft-hearted. He can’t deny me a bite. Such a pushover.*grins*) His denying me anything at all is directly related to my behavior, so if I want it, just be good and get it. I can’t really think of much that he denies me just because he
can. Which I am not so sure that I like. It’s a rather powerful and heady feeling, secure in knowing, without doubt, that I *will* get what I want.

He does deprive me of freedom. Or.. I deny myself of freedom, given that I am not in bondage 24/7. I choose to follow his rules so that in fact, makes me the one denying myself. For example, He requires that I ask to use the bathroom. The only time he has ever denied me that privilege is if I don’t ask properly. And even then, it’s only for a few minutes or until I ask right. I don’t see that as a deprivation so much as a ritual. It’s the same with most everything else. If I ask, and ask politely, it’s mine.

I might be deprived of something as a punishment, but again, that’s brought on by myself. So I can’t say that’s a deprivation either.

If it’s deprivation for deprivations sake… then that doesn’t apply to me. You see how quickly I can talk myself into feeling un-Dominated.

Anyway, I’m off to do chores. Laters.
kaya

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