Arithmetic

Unfortunately i had forgotten to take my camera with me when i met my Owner on Good Friday. It was a command though. With pleasure and pride i had wanna show you the marks on my bum, so i'm fed up with my forgetfulness, but well that's the way it is. Better next time. The marks are now after a week faded away, but i still can feel my bum, which i do enjoy very much! Only my first Master could manage this. He was a sadist pur sang. So it was a long time ago that i had this pleasure. I wrote that i received 3 x 25 blows with the cane, but that wasn't correct. Luckily T. doesn't blame me. Ofcourse i had other things on my mind at that moment. Ouch! Ouch!

My Owner is fond of numbers. And no He isn't an accountant. Therefore, one way or another, it is a returning item in our relationship, our meetings. At present i am/was not so good with numbers at all, but T. has a very good recollection for it. So i can present you, if it should interest you, the right sequence of numbers. ;-)
The numbers in chronologic order of rank; all torments were a multiple of five.

The belt: 4 x 5 blows
The cane 6-8 mm: 9 x 5 blows
Red flogger: 2 x 5 blows on my bum
2 x 5 blows on my cunt
The cane 9-11 mm: 7 x 5 blows
Red flogger: 2 x 5 blows on my bum
3 x 5 blows on my cunt
The cane 16-19 mm: 5 x 5 blows. Result was a split cane.
The belt: 2 x 5 blows

This rhytmic, provoking torment mo was switched with atonal, manual actions; groping, pinching and opening your displayed cunt and arse as well.
I don't blame you mo, that you didn't remember this steady sequence.

Okay, perhaps now you do understand why i still can feel my bum? Count the numbers. I believe that eventually i'll enjoy maths. Some day.

Jute

Naked i stand before my Owner. Blindfolded. He looks at me, in His hands He's holding a gunny. Holes for my head and arms. Made by my Possessor with love. i raise my arms and He pulls the gunny over my head. The cloth stings pleasantly my skin. The smell of sand and musty cellars stimulating my nose. Not an awkward smell i think. My shelter. T. sets up a breastbondage. Tightly He wraps the rope around my breasts, around my waist. The rope intensifies the roughness of the jute cloth. I'm surprised to notice that i love this tight harness of rope very much. I haven't experienced bondage before. The jute cloth that stings and grates, wrapped around with the tight rope gives me a very comfortable, safe feeling. T. commands me to pull up the jute a little, releasing my bum. Satisfied He's looking at His work. With flat hands He's slapping my curves. Because of the bondage and the fixed jute my breasts are emphasised. He's grabbing them, holding them firmly, squeezes them. He guides me to the St. Andrewscross Andreascross and attaches my arms to the cross. High above my head. I swallow nervously. In the past i've had some troubles if i were fixed whilst standing up. Again He's grabbing my breasts firmly. Stinging jute.
Ofcourse you do understand that I free those breasts again for My own pleasure, don't you?
I hear Him opening His knife. *Click* Once again i swallow, tensed waiting. The sound of tearing cloth, a slight touch of the knife on my skin. I moisten my lips with my tongue and am aware of my tension. Lightheaded. The emotions and stress of this first proceeding, intense meeting rise to the surface in all fierceness. But i don't wanna give up, i'm fed up with this feelings. I wanna feel, encounter. Thoughts storming thru my mind and i try to calm down, which doesn't work. Cold sweat.
T. i think You have to release me, i have to lay down, 'cause standing up doesn't work right now for me.
Lots of apologies i'm mumbling as He sets me free, but He's hugging me, holding me tight, giving me some water to drink. Then i lay down on a bondagetable and close my eyes. T. continues where He had stopped. With His knife He's cutting the jute around my breasts, peeling them till their naked. Then scratching my naked skin. From the waist i'm not covered by the jute. Astride i'm laying there, on that table. Shamelessly, because i'm a little bit floating therefore shyness and embarrassement don't have a chance to show up. T. is hitting my cunt, i like that. He's hitting me harder and harder but still i push my hips towards Him for more. His hand under my chin, forcing me to look Him in the eyes. Drowning in His burning eyes. Then the first blow on my cheek, softly. And another one, softly. I look deeply in His eyes as the next blow hits me hard. That's the moment i break, i surrender myself, feeling deep inside me that i am His Property. His slave. I start to cry, feeling intense happy.

Later on T. tells me why He uses the jute to put on me. How does the jute smell? He asks me. What do you think of when smelling it? Right! That's why He made this up for me. My owner knows how much i love lonely, deserted places, rough environments. Dungeons, cellars, hard, cold stone floors. Where you can smell earth, water, moss, rotten leaves. Oh my God, isn't that terribly sweet? I am such a lucky dog. Slap!!! The blow on my cheek is glowing. Indeed a happy slave. That's me.

Blossom

As from the moment i saw Him standing there on the platform of the station and a little bit later got in His car, i was His. As i saw Him standing there, sparkles in His eyes, savage curls dancing in the wind, my heart jumped from joy. For twenty four hours i will surrender myself to this Man. We drove to a perfect session room near Veenendaal. Where we finally can play profoundly. Going further then before.

i had to undress myself, lock myself into the cage, waiting for Him. Nervously i wait for what comes next. On the floor above me i hear His footsteps. Then i hear Him coming down. He blindfolds me. i have to press my body against the cold steel of the cagedoor. He attaches two pegs on my labia, on them a short chain which He affixes to the metal bars. i feel how the sharp pain of the pegs floats thru my body. i stand very still so that the short chain isn't pulling the pegs, intensifying the pain. i hear my Owner walking around, put ready some stuff, prepare. He removes the pegs, opens the cage, allows me to take some steps outside it. Do you trust me mo? Affirmatively i nod my head. He whispers softly in my ear, giving me nice shivers. Now you are mine; My slave, slut, girl, darling. I'll torture you, humiliate you but also cherish you. I peel you totally, layer for layer untill you are standing in front of me in all your nakedness. I want you completely, all of you.
He takes my hand and places something in it. i feel solid leather, a metal ring in the middle. As He puts on this collar i'm deeply moved. From that moment on a lot was happening those twenty four hours when we were together. Too much to excerpt in a blog.* The trunk was too cold and have to wait. My Possessor has kissed me, caressed me, beated me with several canes, whips, ofcourse His belt, the feather-duster. He observed me and saw my complete nakedness. He slapped my face more than once, humiliated me, scratched softly with His knife on my skin, wrote on me with a marker. He nourished me His seed, he gave me water, He pulled my hair, He washed my hair. He was making His girl mad from excitement, craving, very, very wet. He embarrassed me, making me small, let me cry. The pain in my bum is deep, i can enjoy it for some time. i received 3 x 25 blows from the cane. From which especially the thick one leaves a numb, deep kind of pain. My whole body aches, a delicious aching that makes me feel warm inside. He made me totally His, i am a happy slave, proud, floating in submissive heaven. We met each other while spring begins. The beginning of this spring means also the blossoming of my slaveheart.


* Moments from this gathering will be continued in following blog(s)

Un peu nerveux

Photograph; Slash II by Herr Buchta

Tomorrow is the day. The beginning of spring, full moon evening and i'll meet my Owner, Tormentor and Protector again. Then we'll be together for 24 hours. i'm looking forward to it with a great desire, tickles and soft shivers. This girl is un peu nerveux. Hope i sleep well tonight.........

Vulnerable

There's something intruiging going on. Concerning my feelings and emotions. It has a lot to do with the hint from T., about the trunk of a car. The (apart from that beautiful blog) from s.o.d. about being transported in a trunk and the comment from humble doll on it, has put my feelings in some sort of a rapid. Clearer said: so i'm not the only one that find the idea of a trunk exciting. Seeing this written down makes it impossible to push away this dark little bit of myself. It enforces me to look at it. Often when i find on the net a photo showing a helpless girl back in a trunk, i document it 'cause i find such an image attractive. Still my feelings stayed, in spite of being fascinated, numb. Apparently i didn't allow myself to feel anything. And why is that? Nosing around on the net indeed you find little photographs with this kind of image. Is this too much taboo? While this doesn't happen against the will of the submissive, this should be clear. Ofcourse, i do understand the essence of this taboo. You don't find much images like these on the net, but you dó find horrorstories of women who were find in a trunk, after being kidnapped and raped or even worse. Ofcourse this is horrible; i'm against every form of violence against mankind. But why am i not afraid to look at my rape fantasies? Why do i allow myself to feel something thinking about this? Why is for me being transported in the trunk of my Owner worse? More taboo than needles thru my nipples and labia? While needles for me was enormous transgressing.
Meanwhile T. made clear that the trunk isn't a mindfuck at all. Fact is; this touches me emotionally very deep and starts up many processes in my thinking and feeling. Thinking of coming Friday i'm jumpy and aroused and also a little bit frightened. Not because i don't trust my Owner, i trust Him for 100%. There's something else going on. So i looked inside myself. These frightening feelings aren't bad, also i don't find them creepy, but i wanna know where they come from. These feelings, clearly triggered by the trunk.

Finally i came to the following conclusion; T. and i are so much on the same frequency, with familiar dark thoughts (and more). So it's for sure He can make this dark desires of mine reality. Íf He does isn't relevant, He can. Where-ever He's leading me, i know i will follow Him. Because i've never felt myself so save and good in a D/s relationship before. This is a delightful feeling, but also scary. Because how far will i go? Which direction follows this path? Wonderful, thrilling and scary. i've never felt as vulnerable before, and as strong at the same time.
He's my Owner, He's my Protector.

Burning desires

Forgive me for the indecent thoughts when thinking of Him. This has to do with the mail He's sending me. Especially these nice photographs whereupon the Tools for Good Friday He'll take along ànd will use on me. This tool for cutting tomatoes is giving me shivers. Will He use that one on me? It's making my hands wandering. Down... further down. Touching myself. Even the Holy Mary cannot prevent that i. Forgive me my indecent thoughts. My burning desires. He's in my head and in my heart. Please, give me patience. On Good Friday i belong to Him. Body and soul. Amen.

Tie me up!

It's weekend, so have some fun!

Everything

Perhaps you've noticed that in the lastest blog i have blotted out the word innocence and replaced it by the word virginity. A word is not just a word. Sometimes a word can summon different emotions.
"How can a cunt be guilty mo?" A subbiefriend of mine asked me this question. Never, i replied a little bit giggling. i was curious why she asked me this question. The reason was the following phrase from my latest blog; from the cunt that has lost it's innocence...... Losing your innocence for me doesn't imply by definition guilt. For me this hasn't a negative intonation. Hereby virginity is perhaps a better chosen word, because that's what i meant to say. i'm interested in the thoughts, emotions and motives of other people so i asked my friend if she wanna explain to me why this phrase was a negative one for her. More still; it cuts deeply thru' her soul.
For her the question is; Why is it, that most of the time female sexuality is burdened with negative emotions? If a vagina loses it's virginity, so therefore her innocence, where is the cock in this story? Isn't a cock just as guilty? Although i didn't place losing your virginity in this context, and doesn't see this in a negative way, i find this an interesting point of view. i didn't look at it this way. i'm grateful for the feedback i get from others because this enlarge my horizon and is giving me new perceptions. It means growth. Also i'm very curious what your opinions are about this topic. Perhaps there were more readers who interpret the phrase about the not longer innocent cunt as negative. Or maybe you're as surprised as i am? For me every human being is innocent as a baby ànd also as guilty as a sinner. In a positive way. Is that possible? A sinner in a positive meaning? i appreciate your comments very much.

i'm a sinner and a saint and everything in between.

Homecrafts and chromatics

Sometimes daily life is busy and hectic so there's no time to blog. But here i am again with new details of my SM experiences. At the moment i am very restless 'cause march 21 (Good Friday and the beginning of spring, how apt) i'll meet my Owner again. The whole afternoon, evening, night and morning. i look forward to it with intense desire. And some delightful anxious shivers 'cause T. has lots of (cruel) ideas. Naturellement. Besides He's very skilful and has made some enjoyable toys. A wooden dildo, with some handy lines to keep it in place. Also a wooden buttplug of which i think ouch! this is a huge buttplug. The second photo inspires my fantasy the most because of the atmosphere. The rough materials like bamboo canes, jute cloth, the timber. i can imagine myself kneeling on the log, feeling the rough jute cloth on my skin (also covering my head?) Then my Owner places agonizing and tantalizing slow His knife in the cloth to cut it loose, so that the cold metal finally, softly scraping, touches my skin, giving me pimples.

In a mail T. wrote about a loading ramp (from the bus?) in which i have to take place, naked, on my hands and knees. Hmmmmm such a delicious mindfuck, i wrote back to Him, thinking of the jute cloth covering my head. Who's talking about a mindfuck? I'm not. Ooooops, scary feelings and at the same time intense excitement. i'm slightly claustrofobic, i think, but for now i'm restless and heavenly jumpy. Very jumpy.

My Owner isn't the only one arduous tinkering. Nah, in the beginning of our relationship He has send me some orders to begin with. i had to paint two clothespins and upon them the fonts T/t. Upon one of them also the font 'l', upon the other one 'r'. i was allowed to choose the colours. The meaning of the fonts is clear. Right? Some time later i had to paint two clothespins again. This time i had to paint the fonts T/k upon them and again 'l' and 'r'. These clothespins will help me to toughen my nipples and labia 'cause sometimes i have to place the clothespins on them. As it happens to be far too long ago to have clamps or clothespins on my sensitive parts.

The artist in me didn't wanna use unthinkingly some nice colours. The colour i'll use has to be one with a symbolic meaning. The T/t clothespins are painted in a darkbrown colour: raw umber. An earthy colour absorbing most of the light. Intuïtive this colour can bring cosiness; thinking of a brown pub, coffee, chocolate. Umber derive from the Latin Ombra, meaning shadow. The inside and the 'bite' of the clothespin i've painted fiery red. Red is the colour of love, lust, passion, heat, energy and also anger. Red is frequently used as a symbol of guilt or sin, often as connected with blood or sex. But it's also used as a symbol of courage and sacrifice. In Roman Catholic tradition it is used for all feast days of Christian martyrs. T. likes this colour 'cause
it impersonates punished skin. The discolouration of your skin because of a sequence of beating that never seems to stop; your tortured skin that expires from scarlet red to vermilion to carmine red. These expiring play of colours you know all too well mo, and it's possible that I inform you about the progression of this range of colouring when punishing you.
The T/k clothespins are painted with the same red, but the outside is, for the contrast, ivory white. Oh yes, and this sweet subbie makes it easy for her Owner; so that He doesn't have to look which pin is right or left. So, instead of the fonts 'l' and 'r' i made a symbol symbolising cunt. A circle and within it a line.
According to Goethe there was nothing as intact as white light. i like this 'cause pain is healing me, making me intact. White has àll the colours in it. Intuïtive, white is the colour of innocence and purity. Which symbolise the little girl in me. Also: from the cunt that has lost it's innocence virginity becomes new life, innocence. A white flag stands for surrender yourself. i hope you can follow a bit my line of thought. Therefore the clothespins are each others antithesis; dark-light, ying-yang, but also identical, interconnected thru the colour of blood. They make each other complete like a Dominant and a submissive complete each other.

Meanwhile i'm happily jumpy till the first day of spring.

Bad girl

Everything's alright with me, only a little bit busy though. For now a picture that suits the sunday. A new blog is coming soon, please have some patience. ;-)