A Nursery Rhyme

(To the tune of Three Blind Mice)

(mememememe!)

Three waxed sluts.
Three waxed sluts.

See how they squirm
See how they squirm.

They begged to the sadist to “Make it burn!”
She pointed and sneered to “Wait your turn!”
Us silly girls will never learn!

Three. Waxed. Sluts.

Ta Da!

*beams*

So my headless cohorts and I were reluctanly dragged, kicking and screaming under threat of great bodily harm, to our molten lava demise-

Okay okay. Fine. Not really.

In fact, as soon as “wax play” was uttered, at least one of us (No names mentioned. Squeakers!) was naked and on the floor purt near before the first match was lit. Eager beavers, I tell ya.

And speaking of beavers- pulling wax out of pubic hair is just… it just fucking hurts.

We had a most excellent weekend. Naked girls and evil men (and evil women!) milling around my house gives me the warm fuzzies. This is how life is supposed to be. Naked, well-fucked, and grinning from ear to ear.

However.

The next time that we all get together, I’m going to mount a large, blinking neon sign on the wall that reads “A Little Less Talk, A Lot More Action.”

In fact, let me lay out a proposal for group voting:

Next time, everyone who comes in the door puts on a ballgag. Yes, even you Toppy-type folk. Gag yourself (and stop whining. It’s not THAT bad!)

That way, the “talking” will be done with your hands. Or your toys, your teeth, your whips and canes and ropes and…

All in favor, say Aye! raise your hand.

Motion passed (it’s my world and in kaya’s world, I make teh rulez.)

BYOB- Bring Your Own Ballgag goes on the next invite.

Seriously, they talk too much.

And by they, I mean Master.

*snicker*

(Poke The Sadist- the kinky version of Pin the Tail on the Donkey)

Poor Alderon has been wanting to tie up some girls for weeks now.

Next time. *nods*

~cunt

Forgiven 27 times.

Well the kids are home so Master and I had to get dressed, which luckily for you all means I get to post pictures! Yay!

Master came bearing gifts, new cuffs and a new rattan cane. Isn’t He generous?…:) I’m also watching the mail for candles and lube. You can never have enough lube, right? Right.

So, earlier today, shortly after I made that last post in fact, Master was sitting on the couch and I was curled up in His arms (isn’t that the best spot in the world?..~sigh~). I touched His cheek to make Him look at me so I could see His eyes and I asked for the umpteenth time “Do You really forgive me?”

He closed His eyes and tilted His head to the heavens and sighed. In that very controlled, very firm, very you-are-so-trying-my-patience voice, He said “YES. How many times do I have to say it?”

Seeing that I was pushing my luck here, I smiled brightly and quipped, “27!” (Which was the first number that came to mind, thank GOD it wasn’t a thousand.) He nodded. “27 it is then. 27 with the new cane and you’ll repeat after each one, ‘I know I am forgiven, thank You Master.’”

And you know what? I AM forgiven! I do believe it now.

So we did alot today. Or rather, He did alot to me. It was fun fun fun. Even being in the closet with my arms stretched up high… and just when I thought I couldn’t stand the burn in my shoulders or the tingle in my hands anymore, He opened the door and pulled them higher. Even that was fun. Challenging. He talked to me from the other side of door every now and then.. just casual conversation.. to keep me from spacing too much maybe? Whatever the reason, it was very surreal. Was I really supposed to answer normally, naked, blindfolded, chained and locked in a closet??

Apparently so, because I did.

Later, He “showered” me and then we showered together. Each time we reconnect on what used to be an almost daily activity, I decide that’s the one I miss the most when He’s gone. I guess I just miss it all the most.

Master made another little video while He was playing around with His cane. If you want it, you’ll get to hear me cussing oh so politely…:) You know the drill.. email me at onlytess@hotmail.com.

Here are some pictures too.
Pics behind cut