I am feeling more than a little melancholy today. Mac thinks it is all rather girly and silly but I just can't help it. Today is the last day I will sit here next to my window to type to you lot. Tonight I pack up the computer so that the desk is bare and W/we are ready for it all to be moved. It all happened so fast. It is almost like a dream.

It was not that long ago that I was sitting here watching those big rough builders working with their hands across the road. In the mornings I would drink tea and imagine those calloused hands touching my soft skin, denting me, bruising me with their desire. I would be back here at lunchtime preferring them to any television show, making up stories in my head about what they ate and whom they talked about and where they went at night.

Mac watched me hunger for them and He lusted my desire, at times demanding it for His own. It amused Him to see me so taken by these men I was too scared to speak to and He often said that He should go and invite them in to feed. The weeks turned to months and the house was slowly built and I watched them drive away one night and I knew that they were gone.

Now I am going too.

I remember a time that I opened a new bottle of Pepsi in the kitchen and as I spun around to grab a glass the bottle slipped from my hand and hit the floor on it's bottom. It was like a volcano erupted from the middle of the floor. I squealed and Mac came running and stood at the door and laughed as the Pepsi sprayed to the ceiling and rained back down on me. I stared at Him helplessly and He laughed and laughed until I lunged for Him and hugged Him in my sodden clothes. He grunted (really He squealed but He says it was a grunt) and tried to push me away. I clung to Him the best that I could so He tripped me onto the floor and lay over me kissing me as the Pepsi dripped from the ceiling all around U/us.

'W/we can't.' I gasped.
'W/we have to.' He said.

And I found out W/we could after all as He fucked me in the puddle on the floor. For months afterwards no matter how many times W/we (I) cleaned the kitchen, W/we still found little spots of Pepsi W/we (I) had missed.

There is the bathtub and the shower and the place right here next to me on the floor and the hallway wall and the bedroom door. He feels like W/we are leaving behind some walls a ceiling and a floor. I feel like W/we are leaving behind memories.

'W/we can make new ones.' He said.

Last night Emma and I sat in the kitchen with some acrylics and painted pretty flowers and clouds on the boxes while we talked. We started to get undressed and Mac came into the kitchen to find us giggling madly at the "MAC'S SLUT" painted on our bellies. Each of our nipples was the centre of a flower and there were hearts and squiggles on our behinds. Mac backed away when I went towards Him but He didn't mind having control of the paintbrush and before long each of my nipples wore a smile. I pressed them against Emma's so that hers would smile too. Then I kissed her and the paint got all smooshed and neither of us really minded at all. I pulled her to the floor and Mac growled at the both of us and we turned to take care of His cock. We fought over it, each of us trying to take it in our mouths while we giggled at each other and at Mac. He growled a few more times and still we giggled as our tongues touched and once, just for a moment, we became lost inside each other's mouths. Mac didn't mind.

When He was in Emma's mouth I tried to sneak my tongue in beside Him and when He was in mine she did the same and by the time He came it was enough to cover us both with semen and we made a bigger mess as we both tried to take Him in our mouths again. Mac shook His head at us as we giggled even more and He told us we had to shower before we got into 'His' bed.

When we were all pink and clean we climbed into bed, just Emma and I, and we whispered secrets to each other like two little girls alone in the dark. And she whimpered. And she came. And I came too. And we fell asleep still murmuring and purring, filled with each other.

I fell in love with her so many times last night.

She is beautiful and she makes me feel beautiful too.

I would like to thank wench and blessing for the honest and open answers to the questions I asked them. Every single woman I asked these questions gave me more than I thought they would. Your beauty amazes me. Thankyou for being a part of my life, even if it is just through our journals.

Today I have very little to say due to a headache and the fact that spring always hits me like a freight train and I just want to curl up and sleep. Luckily, I have that option and intend on taking it.

In the meantime, if you haven't read this article on being a healthy submissive, I would recommend it. I actually found it years ago when I was questioning my right to choose how I live. Thankyou to Amber for pointing it out in one of her posts.

I would just like to mention that I feel submission and sadomasochism are in two different worlds, although at times they do overlap. Not all submissives enjoy pain. Not all doms enjoy inflicting pain. Not all masochists are submissive and not all sadists are doms. And funnily enough, not even the American Psychiatric Association believes that sexual sadomasochism is a mental disorder.

Ok, one more thing I really want to say. One of the questions that I asked each of the women was "What last made you throw your head back and scream with laughter until you couldn't laugh any more?" This was a question that personally meant a lot to me. The person that I do this with, the one that I feel totally free to really let my guard down and laugh until I can't breath is not Mac or Emma (although Emma and I have had some giggle fits that are out of control) or even my best friend Christine. It is my big sister.

The last time we did it, we had both been in a pissy mood all day and had taken to making snide remarks at each other while out shopping together. Towards the end of the day, we were standing outside a theatre waiting for her daughter to come out of a dance rehearsal surrounded by other parents from my niece's school. For whatever reason, I looked up and noticed that the clouds coming over the top of the building made me feel like we were moving and the clouds were stationary. I pointed this out to my sister and she looked up and started to sway to stay upright. I started to laugh. She started to laugh and within minutes we were on the ground in tears, choking, gasping for air and still laughing. The parents around us were all staring and whispering to each other and that made us laugh more. When we finally got it under control, my sister said, "oh god, they will all think we are on drugs" and that started us off again.

My niece came out of the theatre to find us still on the concrete laughing uncontrollably and she rolled her eyes and asked if we had to do this in public and of course that set us off again. She walked away to stand somewhere else so that we didn't embarrass her any more than we already had. I don't know how long we stayed there for but when we were finished we were both emotionally drained and I hugged her really tight and told her I loved her.

Some days I think about the people in my life who love me and I realise I have nothing to complain about at all.

I am sorry. I am running later than normal with posting. My days from here until probably next Monday are going to be a little on the dishevelled side. I am going to think myself lucky if I manage to post. I will do my best.

Dawn asked for some questions and she also answered them beautifully and honestly. Thankyou Dawn.

I was trying to think of something to write about and I keep thinking of Mac's new Captain Caveman personality and giggling. I should mention, in all fairness, that yesterday Mac and I had a long discussion on Shakespeare. Mac took great pleasure in discussing old Williams's penchant for order inversion and usage shifts, offering me examples of both, quoted from memory. (Mind you, He couldn't tell you what He had for breakfast!) I listened along pretending that I had a clue and feeling like the grammar ignoramus I am. I decided in all wisdom not to offer an opinion as that would allow Him the insight into just how ignorant I am and I just nodded sagely and looked suitably impressed, certain that at least one of U/us knew what He meant. Of course, knowing Mac, it all could have just been something He made up. (Grins)

On another level, there was a day before all this work started that Mac and I spent visiting His cousins. While all the men gathered in the family room to watch the rugby on television Mac sat with a six week old baby girl in His arms and did His best to explain to her the offside law in rugby. She looked at Him, her tiny eyes darting across His face while her lips moved in an imitation of His without any sound coming out. She had Him enthralled. Not even I can get that much attention from Him when rugby is on.

And He calls me a complex creature!

On a recent holiday, wench saw something that made her think of Mac and Sarah. When she showed me it, I started to cry (yes, yes I know, I am a baby.)I thought it was beautiful that she thought of Mac and I and it is so rare to find something so perfectly right. I intend on purchasing one of these for Mac's desk because Mac spends all His time in reality. He sometimes needs a reminder to look for fairies and I like the idea that He will look at it and know that His fairy is safe in His arms. Thankyou wench. Your thoughtfulness always makes me smile.

Ok I have to go, male family members will be here soon to stand around drinking beer and discuss how there is really nothing they can do until W/we can start moving furniture into the new house on Wednesday while female family members rescrub the already over-scrubbed bathroom and wait for the men to decide to burn some meat.

Mmmmm feels like a Sunday to me!

I would like to thank the five beautiful women that answered my questions with an honesty and openness I didn't expect and was surprised and pleased to receive. These women showed their true beauty in their answers and I think they are all worth reading. Thanks to shi, Carrie, Luci, nicki, and D^Anerah[IW].

Last night, seeing as this is the last Friday night W/we will be living in this little apartment, (funny how it has become so much littler since I have known about the house,) I decided to make Mac a nice dinner. By nice I mean I cooked this wonderful pork recipe with a to die for cherry sauce. Not only did I cook it, but I rummaged through boxes to find the things necessary to cook it. I sat at the table after presenting the meal to Him and awaited eagerly for Him to try what I knew was simply a marvellous dish. And what was He whom is sophisticated beyond measure's response?

Well, after sniffing at it and screwing up His nose He actually tasted it and said (honest, these are His words,) "tastes ok but the gravy is a bit lumpy." THEN to add insult to injury He said "tomorrow night, can W/we have sausages, eggs and chips?" Now a mere mortal without previous knowledge of this Man may have become upset at His total lack of comprehension of what had gone into this meal. A mere mortal would not understand that the Man that she adores is a total Neanderthal when it comes to food, but I just shook my head at Him and enjoyed my meal and tried desperately to think of a way to get Him back. The best I could do was to remind Him that He hasn't packed His desk yet. He said that He intends on shoving everything into the drawers and taping them shut. I don't think He understood that it was a dig at Him.

I, of course, should be completely unsurprised at His lack of enthusiasm. It's not like this hasn't happened before. For the first ever dinner party W/we held, I was determined to impress His friends. I outdid myself with a lovely Duck a l'orange. The women ohed and ahed and I felt all warm and tingly at what a success it was until I noticed Mac kind of pushing things around His plate. Then I noticed that the other two men did not exactly look enthusiastic either. I started to panic! What was wrong?

Mac kind of looked at me glumly and asked why I had served pudding with the main course. I still, to this day, have no idea how I was supposed to answer that one. I knew He wasn't kidding, but I really wanted to laugh, (or was it cry?) W/we actually made it through that dinner and it was successful and since then when people come over for dinner W/we tend to throw slabs of meat on the barbeque and I make salad so they can use it to decorate their plates. The men seem much happier that way.

Then of course there are the restaurants. The sure way to stop Mac in His tracks is to happily announce that W/we have been invited out to dinner. He will look at me warily and ask me just where this 'out' is and if I answer with anything other than the word 'pub' He starts to look like He is in pain. Invariably as W/we are walking through the door of some upper class restaurant He will grasp my hand and say 'Do you think they serve steak here?'

This is not to say He is not adventurous. In fact while dining in Spain He decided to try this little wild pig thing. It was served kind of pegged out on this board and I managed to eat nothing but salad for the rest of the trip. He insists it was delicious and I was quite happy to agree with Him without any of it passing my lips. So it's not that He won't try anything new, it's just that when it comes to food, He prefers for it to look like it has been hunted down and killed. The pretty stuff is for girls.

Mac? Was there anything about food I left out?

So how long did I hold a grudge over dinner? Truth is I didn't. Time between U/us is so limited and precious that dinner is not worth holding a grudge over. Not much is. Right now, Mac and Sarah are learning a very tough lesson on the value of time.

Sometimes I get angry that He isn't here to move a heavy box. Sometimes I get frustrated that He isn't here to get the things down from the high shelves. Sometimes I get sad that I can't just go and give Him a hug. Sometimes I get pensive that I can't just call Him to hear His voice change when He realises it is me. (Am I the only one that loves that? He answers the phone so business like and when He realises it is me His voice smiles!) Right now to call Him while He is in the middle of work would just be annoying and disruptive for Him, so I wait until He has time to call me.

Yet when He does arrive home, or when W/we wake together in the morning I hug Him and kiss Him and tell Him that I love Him and W/we talk and laugh and make the most of the time W/we have. I will admit that I have wondered if I should tell Him that I miss Him and tell Him that I am lonely without Him but the thing is (and thankyou Amber and Dan for helping me see this) there is nothing He can do about the time W/we are spending apart and He is doing it to secure a future for U/us so I really can't complain. So instead I have been suppressing my anger and my sadness to please Him and I have been feeling slightly guilty at not being totally honest with Him. I know He hasn't asked, and if He had asked I would tell Him the truth, but isn't hiding something the same as lying? Doesn't omission make me as guilty as if I had told Him I was fine when I wasn't? Not always. Especially when He already knows.

The thing I need to remember is that W/we have that rule, you know the one? "Don't ask the question if you can't handle the answer." So what it comes down to is that W/we both know its there and there is nothing W/we can do about it but make each moment W/we have count. Of course, I didn't know that He knew until He told me yesterday that knowing that I was doing my best to give Him my best, that at times when He comes home and expects me to pout and be sullen but instead I am sweet and just pleased to see Him, it makes Him love me more. And when He can choose where He wants to be, it's me He wants to come home to because He knows that there will be no recriminations and there will be no blame. Here He will just find love.

Don't get me wrong though. It isn't always bloody easy. (Grins at Mac)

And last night, when He took me to bed He lay over me and crushed me into the bed. I was helpless without the use of any restraints, just His body over mine. He put His hand over my throat and held it carefully, using enough force so I couldn't forget it was there and being tender enough not to bruise my skin. He fucked me while He whispered the wickedest and most evil things in my ear. He whispered to me about being fucked and ass fucked by many men. He whispered to me about cocks covered in the semen of other men that had already filled my pussy being brought to my mouth to taste. He whispered about whippings and blood and semen stinging the welts and that mix being scooped into my mouth. He whispered about being raped, He whispered about being slapped, He whispered about big men that hurt me. He fucked me until my body exploded and when it did He took my breath from me just for a moment, so I remembered who was in charge. And He did it again. He continued until I was only able to whimper and sob, until I couldn't find the words I needed to make Him stop. I was crying and He was asking me questions and I didn't know how to answer them. Then He made me beg for His orgasm. He forced the words from me, made me plead through my tears for His semen, and when He came I bled from the mark He left on me.

He gives me everything I need.

I have to give Him all the love I have.

I want to have a say on blind obedience. Now before I do, I want to say that I know there are people out there that do the blind obedience thing and it works for them. I know there are Doms that expect it and subs/slaves that want to give it and I am not criticising anyone for this. What I am writing about today is how this affects Sarah and why it isn't done in my relationship with Mac.

On Tuesday Dan wrote about a submissive that had been ordered to clean a toilet while watching her favourite TV show. That was my example I used when talking about a previous relationship of mine. It was actually my first relationship where we recognised the roles of Dominant/submissive. It wasn't his first relationship.

I am going to repost the example here:

"Scene: Sitting in the family room, him on the couch, me on the floor at his feet. My favourite programme is on and it is about halfway through.
Him: go and clean the toilet
Me: what, now?
Him: yes
Me: why?
Him: because I said so
Me: (frowning) but I am watching this
Him: DO AS YOU ARE TOLD
Me: (getting pissy) I like this show.
Him: the point is you are my submissive and I need you to obey me
Me: (pissier) but I am obeying you by sitting at your feet.
Him: that's not enough
Me: (really pissy) am I being punished?
Him: no but you are going to be, now go clean the fucking toilet.

And off I would go to pointlessly do something while missing out on something I enjoyed, not because I had done anything, just because he wanted to deny me that pleasure, he needed me to obey his every whim. I would feel like I had failed because I did not want to clean the toilet right then, I did not want to do what he said just because he said it, and then I would feel even worse later on when I was punished for being such a failure."

The words I wrote there that strike me even now are 'pointlessly' and 'failed'. That is truly how I felt. It didn't matter that he said that it wasn't punishment. It FELT like punishment. He took away something I liked and replaced it with something I didn't like. I was expected to obey because I was a submissive and I said I would.

Being the people pleaser that I am, and feeling like I had failed was very hard work for me. I would punish myself for it for days on end. I was such a bad submissive, I was displeasing, how could he even stand to be around me? Melodramatic? Yes, but hey, I am really good at melodrama when it comes to the way I feel about me. The thing is I did obey him. I would argue the point for a very short amount of time, and then I would obey and accept any punishment for the little arguing I had done because he was trying to make me a 'better submissive'. Of course what he did was reinforce what I already knew about me, I was a bad submissive.

The next time he asked me to obey just because he wanted to, I again would wonder what I had done wrong, would once more assume I was a bad submissive and it continued in an ever lowering spiral until the end.

He cut me loose with an, "I release you." When I asked why, he said that he didn't have to have a reason. He told others it was over because I was too demanding. Not only was I a bad submissive, I was a demanding submissive as well.

Quite frankly I should have expected this from him. After all when we first started out, the first thing he had me do was write an essay on why I deserved to be trained. Trained? Yes trained. Apparently from the start I wasn't good enough, he was going to make me better. You see, in spite of my faults, he saw some good in me that he thought he could bring out. I believed he was right. The relationship was never about two people being happy with whom they were, but about one person trying to get what he wanted from the other.

There are things that Mac says to me all the time that I appreciate and cherish. One is "I don't love you in spite of who you are, I love you because of who you are." Mac has no desire to change me, but to allow me to be the person I am most comfortable being.

Another is, "I know that if I order you to do something, you will obey me. Knowing you will obey is enough. I don't need to see you do it. I won't take advantage of you." Mac knows that it lowers my self-esteem to be made do something just because He wants it. He doesn't see a need to make me blindly obey Him just because He can. He knows that if He wanted I would serve Him and He cherishes that, finds it very feminine and allows me to serve Him when I feel the need to, but He never demands it of me and He would never take away something I enjoy just because He can. He may take it away because it is bad for me, to protect me or because it is interfering in U/us but that reason will always be explained.

You see, the thing is, as arrogant and brash as Mac is, as much as He will say He takes what He wants from O/our relationship, one of the things He wants the most is my happiness. He enjoys seeing me shine when I am beside Him. He takes pleasure in knowing that I smile when I fall asleep at night. He doesn't want a silent sullen girl that spends her time wondering what it was that she did wrong and being too scared to enjoy something because He could take it away.

Some of you have asked if Mac writes like I do. Well, I did post a story of His before. It was fictional and sexy and a little wicked. This one is a little different. This is His way of telling what happened when W/we first met Emma from His point of view. It is actually the second part that He wrote me about it, it was quite a weekend. Maybe one day Mac will let me post the first part. Maybe...


PART TWO
The Party.

There is much laughing, and noise, and drinking, and if not yet at full swing yet there is still a momentum to the occasion. I introduce you to the others on our table. There are 12 of us...me, 5 of my team mates, and their girlfriends.

You are sparkling and beautiful and the men look at you appreciatively through lustful eyes, hoping their women don't notice. Woman of course miss nothing and can pick up the signs that their man is looking at another woman from 2 rooms away....but men don't realise this. Needless to say the womens' eyes inspect you from the top of your head to your kitten heels in the way that women have that they think no one sees.

Outwardly you are sparklingly beautiful. Only I know that your slight flush is from lust, that under your shimmering dress your breasts are bruised and sore, both from being sucked and bitten during hours of sex and also from the roughness of my chin. Only you are aware of course that even more than the soreness and bruising, your nipples are swollen and aching with lust, needing to be used again

Your other secret of course is in your panties. Because I have not let you change, your panties are still awash with my pleasure, and yours. It makes a heady brew, this mixture of Mac and Sarah arousal.

I look across at you. Your lips are glistening, swollen. Your eyes are narrowed and glittering. I can see your tongue gently licking your fingers, to the world an innocent little mannerism, but I know that seconds earlier your fingers have been secretly inside your panties.

Your face gives me the message loud and clear that you are ready, as always. You know I demand that you are always instantly ready to take my pleasure, wherever, whenever, and however I want it.

I look behind you to a door. You follow my eyes. I jerk my head just once. You know what it means. It means...woman, go, prepare to please your Male.

You delicately take a sip of champagne, dab your lips, take your purse, and stroll elegantly, sexily, across the floor to the door. I lean back in my chair and am amused and pleased that many many eyes watch you, most lustfully, some enviously, some bitterly, some bitchily.

I wait. You never know how long I will make you wait, sometimes even if I will show at all. But you get ready anyway.

The door leads to a room with another door which you go through. Through this door is a small lounge, just a bar and some couches and stools.

You step out of your panties and put them in your purse. You have seen your man's face and know that he will want you quickly. You also know that at times like this you just need to be ready for whatever he wants, to please him with all you have, and that your pleasure will come from satisfying your Male's desires, whatever they may be.

In prepartion for is arrival you kneel, and wait, head bowed. You look so beautiful kneeling there, your back straight, your hands demurely in your lap, your head modestly bowed. I pause at the doorway at the sight of you, my eyes narrowed, my penis already straining at the zipper of my pants, my throat thick with lust, my balls feeling full and heavy, and I realise I have never lusted you so much.
Then I am at your side. You keep your head bowed and speak softly. 'How may this girl please you, my love'

In answer I take hold of your hair and pull your head back. I lower my mouth you yours. You are aware of the male roughness of my chin and as my mouth touches yours your lips open and my tongue explores your eager mouth.

I taste immediately your sweetness, the sweetness from between your legs, and know that you are ready as I like you to be. I know that there need be no preliminaries, that you are eager for my lust, although outwardly demure.

I pull you to your feet by your hair, and push you face down over a soft stool. 'Show me, girl' I say, in a voice thick and low with lust.

You reach for your dress and pull it over your hips. I am pleased you have removed your panties. You hear my zipper slowly being pulled down and tense as you wait for my cock. Instead I surprise you and kneel behind you.

You gasp as you realise I am parting your legs and that my tongue is reaching for your pussy. Immediately you clench as my tongue traces the lips of your vagina, and reaches your clitoris.

You are soaked. Still your pussy is hot with me but now you are so aroused the wetness is tasting more of you, that sweet taste unique to you that makes my throat constrict.

Now I am spreading your cheeks and licking between the crack in your sweet ass. My tongue finds your ass hole and teases you a little, just circling it as I savour the taste of you. You start to moan 'please Mac please' but I toy with you and make you wait. Then as my fingers gently stroke your clitoris I press with my tongue and you feel it start to penetrate the opening of your ass. I feel you push back on me and my tongue slides into you, deeper, and deeper. I feel your cunt spasm as you orgasm and I tongue fuck your ass more and more. When your orgasm subsides I stand, and take hold of my engorged and throbbing cock.

By now I am wet with precum which I bring to your ass, mingling my precum with my saliva and lubricating you for what is to come.

I just hold the head of my cock against your ass hole. You feel it and moan. I feel you push back, trying to entice me inside you, and I hold and press and press, and press, and tell you to relax ready for that moment you love when the head of my cock finally penetrates the resistance from your ass and I can slide into you.

There! The head of my cock enters you, and you gurgle with both a mixture of lust and relief. I hold there for a moment or two and again urge you to relax. As you do I press further and further, until I am so far into you that my full testicles are pressing against your pussy.

Now I mount you, and you feel my weight, and you are helpless, unable to move at all. I kiss your cheek then suck your neck as I begin to fuck you, my cock staying deep but my hips thrusting and with each thrust you cry out without realising it.

I am biting your shoulders now and am starting to growl with lust and you know I am close to spilling inside you. You instinctively begin to flex and relax your ass muscles. You cannot help doing this. Every fibre of your feminity needs your Male to spill his seed into you and your body takes over so that your ass is sucking his cock to urge him to spill.

I hold still and growl low and long and you turn and slide a tongue into my mouth and that takes me to the edge and I bite your lip so hard we both taste blood and my cock swells and pulses and the first pulse of hot semen splashes into your ass and I thrust and thrust my hips for what seems a long time until finally I am spent and collapse my full weight onto you.

You lie under me, a quiet smile on your face, knowing you have pleased your Male.

Then with shock, you realise that someone is standing to the side, silently watching. It is the girl from the table with the long blonde hair and the green eyes...you forget her name. Emily was it? Emma? You wriggle with embarrassment until you catch her eye. She holds your gaze for a moment, a look of pain on her face, and then looks down. You follow her eyes and realise she has her dress up and her hand inside her panties and the look of pain was her orgasm. Again you catch her eye and she whispers....want to taste?

She comes and kneels beside your head and traces your lips with her fingers, then licks herself from you.

'May I help you clean up your Man?'

You smile in reply and she kneels beside you as I withdraw from you and stand, and together you lick my softening cock and my balls quite clean, both of you starting to giggle when your tongues touch. I zip myself up and you both stand and you stand on tiptoe and kiss my lips and you say 'darling we need to repair the damage in the ladies room...see you back at the table'

Back at the table I lean back, take a sip of brandy, light an obscenely fat cigar, and start to plan how I will use you next. Both of you.

Shi posted some questions in my last comments. She did this because I asked her to. Of course in asking her to, I also told her I didn't want to get stuck answering boring questions. I am sure that you all are not interested in my favourite colour jellybean (yellow) or that my first pet was a Dalmatian called Lady.

So here are my questions and answers.

1. You've shared a ton of personal/sexual fantasies on your blog, some of which you've enacted; it seems like there's nothing you wouldn't share. Do you have any fantasies you are hesitant to share, and why?

Yes. There are fantasies I am hesitant to share. There are some that I doubt very much I ever will share. I have at times expressed a desire to be hurt beyond any pleasure I may receive. I have also expressed that at times there is a part of me that thinks I deserve to hurt. These fantasies are not about sex, but about power and about how powerless I sometimes feel. They have at times gone deeper than rape fantasies and I feel that the majority of readers would be horrified and shocked by just how deeply seated this desire is and how far back it goes. I once said to Mac, 'You think You understand, but You don't have a clue just how much I deserve to be hurt' and even as He held me in His arms and heard the words I had to say, He really couldn't understand. I shared some of the fantasies with Mac. I shared with Him the basis of the pain. He was shocked. He hurt for me and He helped me work through a lot of what I was feeling. I don't feel the need so desperately any more, but my feeling is that if it was hard for Mac to comprehend while He was holding me in His arms, how can I explain it to everyone else through a computer screen?

2. If you (God forbid & knock on wood) became physically unable to make love to Mac (or vice versa), how would this affect your relationship, what would you use as a substitute, and would this substitute suffice?

I think that this comes back to the fact that Mac and I started out as friends. Mac and I were good friends, at times closer than W/we probably should have been. Almost from the moment I met Him I made Him my mentor and, without either of U/us understanding what that meant, He accepted the role with good grace and was often my protector and my hand to hold and my guide. I believe these are roles that Mac will always have in my life, no matter what. Even when Mac and I were not on speaking terms for three months due to a friend induced misunderstanding, at the very first sign of trouble in my life, I emailed Mac and He responded. For almost 9 months, email was the only contact W/we had with each other and then it was only when I needed someone to lean on. He would always reply. (Even if it was just to tell me to stop sulking and get on with it.)

Mac has said to me, "I love you enough to keep you around even if W/we didn't have sex and I lust you enough to have sex with you even if I didn't love you." He has also said that there will always be a place for me beside Him, no matter where I decide to go. So I guess what I am saying is that if W/we were unable to make love to each other, part of O/our relationship would stay the same. If I was unable to make love to Mac, I know He would seek out sex elsewhere. Sexual contact is a normal physical part of life and I would not expect Him to do without, though I would prefer He did it discreetly, I wouldn't feel the need to know about it.

I think, and this is just my thinking, I don't actually know what Mac would do if He was unable to make love to me, but I do think He would still enjoy watching me pleasure others.

As for would it suffice, no. It would be like a part of me was lost and I could never replace that.

3. Where do you hope to be in life at age 60?

There is this rambling old house that's actually 'up the road a bit' from its neighbours that W/we take possession of on the 31st of March 2004. When I am 60 I hope that I am sitting on the patio of that house, watching Mac walk up the garden from the orchard with the grandchildren in tow. I imagine the boy will have a rugby ball and the girl will have ribbons in her hair and Mac will still be taking His grandfather's stick for a walk. (His grandfather had a stick that he always took with him when he went walking. Mac often takes the stick if W/we go out for a walk. I half think Mac wanted the house because it is the perfect place to take the stick walking.) I actually hope that one day Mac's grandson will take the stick walking too.

4. If you could only pick ONE method to attain orgasm for the rest of your life, what would it be and why?

It would be through intercourse, simply because of the closeness of the act. I want to come while He is inside me. I want to share my orgasm with Him. I would hate for it to become a strictly solo act.

5. What do you think of the UK? (As a place to live, politically, etc...)

The UK is cold. Even when it is summer and hot, it is still not really hot. I miss long summers and mild winters. It is nice where W/we are, which is as far away from a city as W/we can get without it being impossible for work. There are lane ways and sheep and the new place has a stud up the road so W/we will be able to go see the foals. In autumn last year, the leaves here were absolutely breathtaking in colour, there was something about the right amount of sun and rain to cause extra sugar in the leaves that turned them into spectacular colours as the season changed and I love that living here gives me time to appreciate things like that.

I will admit though, the cities move too fast for me to be comfortable in, but then I was never much of a city girl. I am quite content without the hustle and bustle of being in a hurry to get anywhere. I am definitely a person who takes the time to appreciate the journey as much as the destination.

As for politically, well, in all honesty I am not big on any political front. I know there is some guy called Tony Blair running the place and a dear old Queen that has a lot of trouble with her children, but I pretty much go to bed at night and wake up in the morning knowing that someone is looking after the place. The thing about politics is that at any time, the opposition have the freedom to tell you what you want to hear, while the elected party have to tell you what they really can do. Of course when you elect the opposition, the same thing happens. If anyone wants to have a go at me for this, just let me point out, that when it comes to politics, I just don't care.

BONUS QUESTION:

6. How would you define 'love?'

Have you ever looked up the definition of love? They use words like affection, fondness, liking, and attachment. They could be talking about how I feel about my mobile phone! I also once looked up love in a thesaurus and it added adoration, devotion and infatuation. I have looked for another word that means the same thing as love and there just isn't any that cover it.

I personally have so many definitions of love.

The way He takes a curl of hair from my cheek and tucks it behind my ear.

The way He becomes so gentle when He holds me.

The look He gets when His eyes catch mine across a crowded room.

The smile that He saves just for me.

The way He says my name.

The way His arms feel around me.

The way He holds my hand when I am nervous.

There is other love of course, the love of a parent, the love of a child, the love of a sibling and the love of a friend. I could go on. I guess what I am most caught up in right now is Mac and so my definitions are based on Him. I know, I know, I am awfully soppy. I am sorry about that but I happen to be madly in love.

TA DAH! Now in the spirit of it all, if anyone wants questions asked of him or her, let me know.

I was going to post about domination but it's already getting late and I want to post this so I will write about it tomorrow, but I will add something quick that is on my mind.

This morning Mac and I had sex and it was quite strange for U/us because W/we completely failed to connect. Mac went to kiss me as I shifted my head, He moved His hand to my breast as I was moving my hand and I managed to knock His away, and it continued in such a slap stick manner that it became a concentrated effort just to make Him come. He did, and W/we talked about it and laughed about it and then He had to go to work. I had to mention it because it is so very rare for U/us to be so completely out of whack but it does happen. It can't be perfect every time.

I guess this means W/we need more practice.

Grins.

I know everyone has his or her own idea of what makes good porn and what doesn't. I first saw a porn movie when I was 14. It was a strange film that I don't remember much about except that in the bits where the normal movies cut away, this film just kept going. It wasn't all huge cocks and bad music. It was just a girl who was doing it with everyone she met, including an uncle and a cousin. I honestly was attracted to the movie, but it wasn't throbbingly sexy.

Having a big brother meant that I got to see all sorts of things that my mother probably didn't plan on me seeing, though my brother refused to let me watch the Animal Farm video, he said something about horses and chickens and NO! I really should thank him for that. I also got to see many magazines that I would never have seen otherwise and there were some bad ones, and there were some not so bad ones and there were some that turned me on. I found out that I was much more turned on by the writing then by the images. My imagination was much more sexy than the actual sight of a cock or pussy.

Needless to say that when porn became something I could surf at any time I liked, I just didn't bother with it.

Yesterday W/we had a little accident though. I say an accident because I accidentally found a pay porn site in my referrals to this blog. When I checked it out, there was no link to me on the page, and I don't know how it happened but I have only had the one referral from that page. I have had a referral before from a different pay site, but again it was only the one so I assume there is some sort of anomaly at work.

Anyways, I checked out this referrer and it turned out to be a porn site that had a front page of three very pretty women and three men you hardly saw and the pics were very nice. Very nice. So nice I showed Mac. There were pics of two of the girls kissing while both were being taken from behind, and pics of the same two girls being kissed by the man who is fucking the girl beside them. There were pics of the three of the girls laying on the floor while the guys knelt over their chests and came over them. And there was a final shot of three semen soaked girls kissing each other. Mac dragged me back to bed.

When He got home W/we were talking about the pics when He asked me to find some more. So I went on a porn hunt. I started at the Hun and went from there. I had asked Mac what He wanted to see and He said come-soaked sex so that was what I was looking for.

About the fourth site I come across showed a girl on her knees in the middle of a circle jerk. There was a lot of semen in her mouth, and on her face. I was aroused not only by the scene but by the look of pleasure on her face. She was enjoying herself. I have never seen a girl take part in a circle like that. I have been the girl in the centre but never seen it happen. I showed Mac. W/we discovered if you clicked the pics you got a short 10 second film. W/we watched the large middle pic first. W/we were both very aroused. Mac said 'Sarah? That's what I see when you do that. That's my Sarah.' I was speechless. I saw what He could get out of it. I saw what He sees in it. It turned me on. I imagine with it being me in the centre it turns Him on more. Yes He feels some jealousy but even stronger is the arousal that this come-crazy little whore is giving Him. He wants to pull my hair and drag me to Him and make me take His come too. Which of course, last night, He did.

I am going to post the link, but I want you all to understand that this is an EXPLICIT LINK. It shows pictures of group oral sex and semen. If you are offended by such things DO NOT CLICK ON THE LINK. If you do choose to click on the link I hold no responsibility for any corruption of morals that you may suffer from. (Did I cover myself enough?) Ok the link is HERE. (This page is free and pop up free. Click on the pics to see short 10-second films of the action)

The reason I am including the link is because I wanted you all to see it and tell me what you thought. Does it disgust, delight, do nothing for you? Tell me which is your favourite picture? Be honest, I really would like to know your opinions on it.

I had to take Mac's pleasure again this morning. Sometimes it is tough to be a sex slave. (Nods.) Now if you will all excuse me, Mac has said that He will try to be home early tonight and I need to find some more pics that He will like.

I intend on enticing Mac into long, drawn out, multiply orgasmic sex.

I may even have an orgasm or two myself.

I have a lot of dreams. I am not talking about those things that you one day hope to aspire too, although I also have a lot of those. I am talking about the type of dream that sneaks up on you when your mind is supposed to be shut down for the night. I dream in colour, which is not the 'norm' but not so unusual that I need to be locked away, at least not for that.

When I was a child I suffered from 'night terrors' and I would wake up in a cold sweat screaming my lungs out. The doctor told my mum that my imagination was over active and I just needed to do more sport and read less. My mother dragged me from dancing to swimming and made me ride my bike and play tennis and still I would wake up screaming in the night. In the end she cured it with a magic penny. She gave it to me one day and asked me if I could feel the magic and I swear I felt it tingle in my hand. She told me to put it under my pillow so the bad dreams wouldn't come and I didn't wake up screaming again. One of my nieces has a magic penny too.

As I grew older I still had nightmares but these weren't those ones that you wake from without waking from. For some reason they mostly involved a ticking clock and that's all I could remember from them. If ever I stayed somewhere where there was a ticking clock you can be sure I would wake up in a sweat knowing something bad had just happened in my dream.

Now days if I have a bad dream it most likely involves my sister's death, which is quite strange as my sister is very much alive. This is a repeating dream, I have it over and over again and not much changes each time. We are in a van, my sister is driving and I am sitting by her side. We are talking and laughing, travelling along the road that leads away from my parent's house. We realise there is someone in the back of the van and she pulls the car into someone's front yard and she screams at me to run. We both hit the doors and as I do I hear a gun go off and I run as fast as I can into the woods. I realise there is no one chasing me and I stop and hide a while but I cant see my sister and I start to freak out. I make my way back to the car and I see that my sister is sitting in her seat and as I get closer I realise half her face is gone and all I can do is stand there and scream. I wake up.

As a child I also had recurring happy dreams that I remember. This wont surprise anyone but for a long time I would dream that I was flying alongside a big dragon, so close to it that I could reach out and touch it's wing and I often did. I always expected it to feel cold, but it always felt warm and it surprised me every single time. The dragon would talk to me and I never remembered what it said but I would wake from these dreams with a sense of peace and calm and I would want to go back to sleep and dream it again. I was never afraid of dragons.

Most of the time now I dream of day to day things, like sleeping through the alarm and running late for an appointment and trying to hurry but not being able to move any faster. I had a dream the other day that was pretty funny because I was running late for school. It's been a few years since I was there. Sometimes I have dreams that run like a movie only I am the main actor and the things are really happening to me. These dreams are usually the clearest when I wake and if I don't think about them or tell someone about them immediately they start to fade and by the end of the day I only have the vaguest idea of what occurred.

I once had a dream about Mac. I was in bed with Him and I was upset because W/we were both naked. I was freaking out about my Dad coming in and finding U/us naked. What would he think of his little girl? So I put a t-shirt on in the dream and got back into bed and was quite happy to cuddle up to Mac. Apparently the fact that neither of U/us had pants on didn't bother me a bit. I just didn't want my Dad to know I was naked with a man, though my Dad knows W/we live together and share a bed so I assume my Dad is aware that W/we do have sex. He probably would prefer not to have it confirmed.

Usually when I have dreams about sex, it involves nameless people that are complete strangers to me. The acts themselves are simple, usually oral or masturbatory and the aim of the dream is for me to orgasm and I do, although it is only a very light orgasm that I have.

I think the strangest dream I have, and I have had this a few times, is the one where I am having sex with a girl. Nothing unusual about that, I hear you all say, except in this dream I have a penis and I am making love to her and I can actually feel myself inside her. It is never rough sex and it is never domineering, it is just gentle and loving and nice. I can feel the softness of her lips on mine and taste the sweetness of her breath and the whole time there is this incredible amount of pleasure from the hot wet tightness of her surrounding me as I move myself in and out of her with a penis that I just don't have. It's very sensual and erotic and it feels really good, it wouldn't surprise me if I whimpered in my sleep. I usually do have an orgasm during these dreams but I am always glad to wake and find that I am still a girl. I am not sure if this dream is normal or unusual but I am not worried enough by it to look into it but it definitely feels strange to me.

I am laughing now because I have never told anyone that I have dreams like that and I am sure that it is going to gross Mac out. I have no desire to be male and even when I am having sex with Emma it is very female sex. Sure at times we do use dildos and other things to pleasure each other but I don't have a strap on, or the desire to own one. I don't want to make love to her like a man. I always figure if she wanted to be fucked the way a man would, she would find a man to do it.

So they are the dreams that I have had and in some ways I think my doctor was right. I do have a very fertile imagination and I am sure that it does come out in my dreams. Because of this I don't watch horror movies, they put me on edge and I have nightmares for the next few nights. I do read scary books, but I can control the horror in those so they don't scare me the way that movies do. I try not to go to bed angry and try to think of something happy before I sleep.

I don't believe in hidden meanings in my dreams, I think they are just my mind dumping images it needs to dump or my body taking care of things it needs to take care of.

So tell me what you dream about or if you dream at all or if you think my dreams mean I should be locked away.

Mac, You are not allowed to vote in the locking away, You know me too well to be objective.

Nods.

Interesting side effect to Mac being too busy to spend much time at home: I am not talking to any one.

It's true. My best friend Christine is pissy with me because I am hiding from her. I am not answering her emails (she emails me from work) I am avoiding her phone calls, (I am always busy when she phones for a chat), I am not returning voice mail. I have no excuse for this other than I just don't feel like talking. Even Emma has noticed that I am quieter than normal. It seems all I want to do is blog and get the things done that I need to get done. All work and little play make Sarah a quiet girl.

Not sure if that is a bad thing or not. My friends seem to think it is but I feel quite content.

I'll let you know when I figure it out.

Last night I started to write out a rape fantasy to post in today's blog. I thought it could be a Sunday treat (or something). It's not easy thinking of things to write about Mac and I when O/our conversations are short lived and mainly concentrate on how work and packing is progressing. There were a couple of times yesterday that W/we took a break together and sat on the couch to kiss and talk but I don't think you all want to hear the about just how silly and soppy W/we can get when snuggling.

So as I was saying, last night I started to write a rape fantasy with every intention of finishing it off this morning and posting it. I even got it to the stage where the girl is standing naked, hands held behind her back in a room with six men, the first about to take her when...

Mac decided to change it completely. You see He had a fantasy that He decided to tell me about. So I am trying to think of six guys, and Mac's fantasy involved three guys and I just can't get it out of my head. So today you get to hear Mac's fantasy instead of mine. Once again, the writing may be mine, but the idea was all His, and I apologize to Him if I stuff it up.

By the way, He was using my body for His pleasure as He told me this fantasy and some of the slapping and such actually happened. I will leave it up to the imagination which parts He spoke about and which parts He actually did but His orgasm was one of the strongest I have ever seen Him have. Perhaps that's why it is so hard for me to think of anything else. (God, I love it when He comes.)

Mac's fantasy.
Mac had returned early from a trip and was standing at the door looking in on the room I am in. There are three men with me, workmen by the look of the clothes and tools strewn about the floor. I am lying on a mattress on the floor. The back of my head towards Mac so I have no clue that He is there.

There is one guy between my legs, on his haunches, with my ass resting high up on his thighs. My thighs are pressed back towards my tummy and although Mac can't see, from the moans I make and the way I am pushing, He assumes the guy's cock is in my ass.

The other two guys are kneeling either side of me, their cocks huge and jutting as I hold one in each hand. I am moving my head from one side to the other taking each man into my mouth in turn. The guy with his cock in my ass is talking to me, calling me names and I am moaning almost in time with his words.

'Filthy cum sucking whore'...whimper
'Dirty little tart'...moan
'Cock sucking ass fucked slut' ...gasp

He pauses as he realises Mac is there and I moan.

'Don't stop. More. More.'

One of the guys with his cock in my hand announces he is about to come. I have the other in my mouth. As soon as the announcement is made I almost start to cry and turn my head. I am raising myself off the mattress to get at him, gurgling and moaning as I try to reach more of his cock.

'Mmmmm please, ...come, ...oh baby, ...oh baby.' My sucking and licking muffle all of my words. He tosses his head back and shouts NOW and I whimper and gurgle as He shoots a full load of semen into my mouth. I am twisted, both my hands around his ass pulling him deeper. I am crazy for him, for his orgasm and his cock, both the other men forgotten. He finishes off and I try to lick at his balls and his tummy and he laughs and pushes me away.

The guy on the other side of me starts to come, spurting onto my shoulder and I groan and turn to him and greedily take him into my mouth and finish him the same manner as I had finished off the other.

There is just the one guy left and he is grunting and thrusting at my ass. Mac hasn't stopped the other two so he continues fucking me, making me groan and whimper with each thrust.

'You really are a greedy fucking bitch' he growls and I sob and reach for him.

'Please Sir, let me kiss you and make you come.'

He looks at me and laughs and moves so that he can kiss me. I run my hands over his back. I am crying and telling him he is beautiful and when he kisses me all that can be heard is my gasping and whimpering. He starts to grunt, obviously about to come and I hold his head in both hands and kiss him with all I have. I push against His cock, trying to tighten on him to make his orgasm deep and long. His mouth is free for a second.

'Bitch,' He whispers. 'Whore. Cunt. Dirty slut.' And I come and pull his mouth to mine again.

When he is finished he stays knelt between my legs and I am suddenly aware of Mac standing at the door and I am torn between the two men. The man between my legs has his semi-erect cock covered in semen and juices and the silence in the room stretches until I softly whisper to Mac.

'Master, may I clean him, please?'

Mac nods and I lie between the man's legs, cleaning his cock and balls with my tongue. When I am finished the men leave and I have to stand before Mac and face His wrath.

He drags me around the room, making me dress in the skirt, panties and top that He hands me. He finds me the highest heeled shoes that I own and forces them onto my feet. There is semen in my hair, glistening on my cheeks and leaking from my ass as He drags me into the nearest bar.

My punishment for being such a slut is for Him to offer me to everyone in the bar. He leans me over a stool, pulls my skirt up and panties down around my ankles and announces an ass fucking session is going to take place. Anyone who would like to fuck my ass is invited to line up and He watches while I am mounted by one after another like a bitch in heat.

One guy tries to slide his cock into my pussy and Mac stops him and tells him ass only. I turn to Mac and beg with Him to allow the man to fuck me that way. Mac slaps me and tells me to shut up. And as the next guy mounts me and presses into my ass, Mac slaps me again and again and then tongue fucks my mouth.


It was here that Mac stopped talking and raped my mouth with His tongue until He came in what looked like a most painful way. (He really does look like He is in intense pain when He comes.) When He was finished I got the giggles and He called me a bad girl even though this had all come from HIS mind. Apparently the multiple orgasms I had endured during the telling made me appear less than innocent in His eyes.

I keep thinking about this and if W/we would ever do this and the answer is: of course not. There is no way on earth I would pick up three strange men and bring them back to O/our place and I very much doubt that Mac would let it continue if He caught me in such a situation and as for taking me to a bar and offering me up, more than likely that would just get U/us arrested! But sometimes fantasies are fun because of the total unlikeliness of them coming true and that's why they can be so wicked too. I like the way that Mac and I 'live' these fantasies within the safety of each other. It's kind of the lazy way to make sex just that much more fun.

I like fun.

I really really do.

On the 18/03/04 over at The Collar Purple, The boss and Invidia (I love the red bottom, have a look) had a fight that led her to the conclusion that 'it's not about fair in a D/s relationship'.

It made me think that many times I have looked at Mac and pouted, 'that's not fair' and that many times He has shrugged and said 'double standard, you know'. And He is right. There is a double standard in O/our relationship. What's good for the gander is not what's good for the goose. There are times when I am whining that Mac will end an argument with 'because that is the way I said it will be'. And He means it. Discussion has ended. No correspondence will be entered into. At those times I have to grin and bear it. Later, when things are calmed He may decide to elaborate further, or He may decide not to. I have to believe that what He is doing is the best for me and leave it at that.

Is it easy? NO! I want to follow Him around and question it but I know that by that point I have pushed Mac just about as far as He will go politely, whatever comes next will not be pleasant. I am allowed to wallow in silent anger or self-pity for no longer than five minutes before that starts to tick Him off too. After five minutes I have the choice of Him removing Himself from my presence or stoping the injured 'why me?' thing. Sometimes I stop and life continues on. Sometimes I don't and Mac finds something to do that doesn't involve me. He will go to the gym or go do some work or go to see friends and leave me to sort it out with myself.

He isn't exactly angry with me, He just doesn't see the point in wasting time sitting with a silent sullen submissive when He could be doing other things. That also works for me because sometimes I need to think about things quietly before I can make sense of them. I often have trouble digesting things in an intense verbal dialog (and you can read that any way you want) as they are coming at me too fast. Does this make me slow? Dim-witted? Unintelligent? No, I think it just means that when faced with conflict I allow myself to be ruled by my emotions. Later when the emotions have run down, I can see the sense in things that I may have missed before. Sometimes I don't see the sense in things even after thinking about it, but I have to accept that it is out of my hands.

Another double standard is in O/our behaviour. When W/we are in public Mac can be loud, arrogant bordering on obnoxious, be crude, and use language that would make a coal miner blush. I, on the other hand, am expected to maintain a certain level of respectability. When I get loud He frowns, crudeness is not tolerated and swearing is not acceptable. I asked Him about this one night after a dinner where Mac had asked one of the girls a question that had left her and the rest of the women at the table blushing. I asked Him what He would have done had I asked one of the men the same question and Mac looked surprised. He said that He hadn't thought about it, because He knew that I would never ask a man a question like that. Then He decided that if I had asked the question, it would have been the last time I ever did such a thing. When I then asked why it was ok for Him to ask it, He said, 'I am a man, double standard and all that' and He shrugged. In truth I wasn't angry about the questions He had asked, just curious to know if He saw the double standard too.

There is also a double standard in His expectations. It is expected for me to leave a note if I am going out, and to let Him know what time I will be home. It is expected that if I am running late I will find a way to let Him know. It is expected that He will know the people I am with and will be notified if my plans change. He on the other hand will disappear and if I need to know where He is or what He is doing, I should call Him, after all that is why He has a phone. (Yes I have one too but that is not the point!) The reason for this is apparently that He is a big boy and can take care of Himself, whereas I am a girl and He takes care of me so He needs to know that I am safe.

And of course there is the double standard in the bedroom. He is the only one of U/us that is allowed to say no. This has never really been a problem because I want it more than He does anyway. Right? So last night, W/we climbed into bed together, (Yes! He was home when I went to bed!) And I snuggled up to Him and started to stroke His body. He tucked me into Him tightly and told me to go to sleep.

'Oh. But um well, don't You want to...?'
'Sarah I am exhausted I just want to go to sleep, maybe in the morning, ok?'

And of course I did understand. He was tired. His natural bounciness is more like a roll along at the moment. And of course I lay there pouting and thinking how unfair it was. I wanted sex. I needed sex. This was the first time W/we were in bed at the same time in a long time. I wanted to love Him. And it took me a long time to drift off to sleep.

At some time during the night I felt Him get out of bed and assumed it was to go to the bathroom or get a drink (probably both) and I went back to sleep only to be woken again what was apparently not much later.

'Sarah? Baby? You awake?'
'Mmm?'
'Baby, I want you to make me come.'
'Wha...??'
'Wont take much baby, I just want to come.'
'But You didn't want to?'
'That was last night.'
'But...'
'Just fucking do it woman.'

So I wrapped my legs around Him and did what I was told and He was right, it didn't take long. He snuggled up next to me spreading my legs open and He played with my clitoris until I came (that didn't take long either). He gave me His fingers to suck on and I am not sure which of U/us fell asleep first.

This morning I watched Him sleeping and I didn't want to wake Him because He looks so innocent when He sleeps. He woke up Himself and He smiled. I would pay a million pound for that sleepy little smile full of love and contentment.

It's a smile that only I get to see.

Talking about my washing...

I dress for Mac. That's not to say that He chooses each and every outfit that I wear, just that when I choose an outfit, I make sure that it is something that Mac would like. I own nothing that Mac thinks is awful and I own a lot of things that Mac thinks are sexy and some things that Mac thinks are nice. Mac likes girls in skirts or dresses more than He likes girls in pants or jeans so I own a lot of skirts and dresses and only a few pairs of pants for the odd occasion when a skirt is just impractical. On those occasions I wear a top that accentuates my breasts.

Mac never asked me to do this. It is actually very very rare for Him to request that I wear something in particular, usually just leaving it up to me to decide. The clothes I wear were something that I wanted to do for Him and I actually started to dress the way He preferred girls to dress long before He made me His.

After years spent running around in jeans and pants, it was rather strange at first to wear skirts. It made me very self-conscious, very aware of my legs and the way I sat and moved. Now I feel funny when I am wearing pants and I usually can't wait to come home and get them off.

Mac has a favourite outfit that He likes me to wear out. It is actually quite a simple outfit, black and casually dressy. Black high heels, black stay up stockings that come three-quarters up my thigh, a mid thigh length black skirt, a black lace bra, a tight black sleeveless top covered by a black lace shirt.

I think for Mac the reason that it turns Him on so much is because nothing is really shown, but everything is hinted at. He knows that under the skirt the stockings give way to bare skin that goes all the way up to the waistband of my skirt. He knows there are no panties under there. He can see just a shadow of cleavage under the lace top and it's just enough to whisper 'slut' while not really looking out of place.

The first time He saw it, W/we were going to a cocktail party at a friend's place and Mac had raced in the door late and quickly showered while I was still getting dressed. Somehow W/we managed to miss each other, He was in the bathroom while I was in the bedroom. I moved to the kitchen He went to the bedroom. I went to the bathroom and He finished getting dressed. He asked me if I was ready and I walked into the bedroom to tell Him I was and He looked at me. I knew that look. That hunter look.

He reached for me and I made my first mistake. I stepped away. Mac grabbed me by the hair and drew me close. Very quietly and firmly He told me never to step away again. His hands moved down over my ass and started to lift up my skirt. I made my second mistake.

'But W/we will be late!'

He growled dangerously and I knew I was treading on thin ice. When Mac has decided that He wants something, He will have it. I knew He wasn't asking me if I wanted to have sex, He was telling me that He wanted to have sex. There was no choice in it. My pussy was throbbing. I love it when He wants like that. One of His hands was running over my bare ass, my skirt having been hiked up so He had access. His other hand was under both my tops, His fingers teasing my nipple through the lace of the bra. He kissed me, a long vicious kiss, bruising my lips with His. I whimpered a complaint about my lipstick and He bit my lips and growled. I shut up. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled me onto my knees straddling His lap. He grabbed my hands and brought them to His pants and I could feel the heat coming off His cock. I was completely lost. I couldn't free Him fast enough and my fingers fumbled over each other as His hands pulled my top up and freed my breasts. I released His cock and stroked it lovingly and He grabbed my ass and positioned me over it, letting me guide it to my opening. He pulled me down hard, thrusting up inside me and I shuddered in the pleasure of having Him a part of me again.

'Feed me your tits' He ordered and I held each to His mouth in turn and I whimpered and clenched with each bite and suck He made. He took His time, making me come over and over while He bruised my tits and made them very sore. When He was satisfied with the way they were marked He lay back on the bed and pulled me down harder on His cock. He made me grind myself into Him and He came explosively, throbbing deep inside me.

He smiled that smug little 'I got what I want' smile and lifted me from Him and stood up. I stayed on the bed watching Him a moment and He told me to hurry, W/we were late. I tidied up my tops, smoothing down my skirt and I went to the drawer to get new stockings and panties because His semen had soaked the top of the stockings as soon as I had stood. He said no.

I was not allowed to wear panties or change my stockings. He wanted me to feel Him against my thighs. I opened my mouth to complain but He gave me a warning look and I knew that I had been given all the chances I was going to get. He told me to tidy my make-up and fix my hair and to do it quickly because He was already calling a cab.

In the cab I was pouting and He chuckled and pulled me close to Him and slid His hand up between my now soaking thighs.

'Mmmm' He growled and brought His fingers to my lips and my muscles clenched and more of His semen leaked from me. I wondered if it would show through my skirt. He slid two fingers back inside me and pressed His thumb against my clitoris, whispering to me that the driver couldn't see. He told me that when we arrived at the party He wanted me to find a room that I knew would be empty all night, where W/we could go and be undisturbed. He said that He had decided that by the end of the night He would have used my mouth and my ass, as well as my pussy again and that my breasts would be much more bruised and sore. While He stroked my clitoris, bringing me to orgasm He promised me that by the time W/we got home I would be aching and exhausted and my only thought would be 'give me more'.

I love His promises to me. He has never broken one.

I wear that outfit every chance I get.

I have something to say that is a little out of line with what my journal is for. I am going to say it once and then move on.

I don't write a slave journal. I do not serve Mac. If you are looking for rules and rituals and correct behaviour for slaves forget about finding it here. In fact if Mac said to me, 'Hey wench, make me a cup of tea' my answer would be, 'Sod off and get it yourself. Oh and make me one while you are at it, ta!' Of course if He asked 'Hey wench, make me a cup of tea?' I would probably say 'Sure Babe' and run to do it. I am not saying it is wrong for a man to order you around if that's what you want, nor am I saying that serving someone is a bad thing. Sometimes I think it would be easier on me if W/we lived this way. But most of the time I appreciate that W/we don't and I am happy with the way W/we choose to live.

I also don't write a journal about my day-to-day life. I don't write here about the washing that I do, or the shower that I need to clean or even the little bit of paid work I do. That is not what this journal is for. Nor do I write about my family or friends and the problems that they like to share with me except in the way that they relate to my relationship with Mac.

What I do write about is the love and satisfaction that one submissive woman has found by submitting to a Man that she believes in. Yes I have doubts, yes I make mistakes and yes, Mac makes mistakes too, but W/we love each other enough to find ways to better communicate our problems and work it through. Isn't that what love is all about? I come here to write the lessons that I have learnt and how I deal with things and sometimes to help me find my way. Most of what I write is written here for Mac. It's here to show Him how much I love Him and how much I love the things He allows me to do and of course, it is here to entice Him to my bed. Some of the stuff is fantasy, but I tell you when it is, other than that I follow the one order Mac gave me when I started the blog. Be honest. If Mac comes across as perfect then maybe that's how I see Him. After all, I am the type of girl that believes in fairies. (Did I just call Mac a fairy?)

So to the people that don't believe that love like this can exist, that couples can go days and even weeks, possibly a month or more without any major issues cropping up, and that life can be sweet, guess what? It does and they can and it can too. I will also say that if you stick around it may change, who knows what wonderful delights my hormones will bring? I am not going to invent problems so my misery can make other people happy, so you will just have to deal with my contentment, I'm afraid.

And to the people that doubt Men like Mac can exist, hmmm what exactly are you submitting too? A lesser man? Seriously, is there anyone out there that doesn't believe in her Dominant? Is there anyone out there that is submitting to someone that isn't the best man He can be? If there is, I really would like to know. Drop me a line or two and tell me just what is wrong with the man you submit to, please?

Now I will return you to O/our regular programming.

I haven't written much about O/our sex life over the last couple of days, mainly because it has been quick intense sessions of lovemaking that have made Him late for work two days in a row. W/we just don't have time for long drawn out four-hour quickies right now. In fact W/we don't have time for much right now. Quick sex, quick conversation over breakfast and He is out the door. I am asleep before He gets home.

Mac has a habit of focusing on one aspect of sex that turns Him on and using that until He something else captures His lust. A month or so ago He decided that I gave the best blow jobs ever and for days on end all He wanted was to come in my mouth. Sometimes He will be fascinated with my tits and they will be bruised and sore for days. Then there was the first time I had been waxed and He spent days down there helping His tongue get used to the feel of it (boy that was hard to take, nods). It feels like O/our sex life happens in little blocks, a block of decadent come sharing sex, a block of gentle loving sex, a block of oral sex, a block of anal sex, a block of tit fucking. Toss in occasional group sex, a little bit of girlie sex and a side order of really rough sex and you have a sex life I enjoy very much.

I think it must be catching because these past few days I have an image in my mind I just can't shake. It's of me on a barstool with my panties around my knees and my legs lifted up into the air. There is a guy standing behind my legs with His cock pressing into my ass. Mac is holding my head back by my hair and His tongue is pressing in my mouth. It turns me on to think of me moaning because of another man and have Mac steal those moans from my mouth. I don't know why. Perhaps it was the time W/we spent with Ben.

Mac has been using it to make me come and come and come and then come some more and it has been rather yummy because usually when He is pressed for time He doesn't bother much with my orgasm at all. I don't really mind when He doesn't, I can take care of my orgasm myself but it is so much yummier when He is there.

Today when He woke Mac looked at me and said 'No' and I blinked at Him as innocently as I could. He said He didn't have time. He couldn't be late again so I would just have to go without. I went to say something and He covered my mouth and told me to hush, He really didn't have time. I nodded in agreement and when He took His hand away I told Him, as He didn't have time it was a good job I hadn't mentioned that my clitoris was throbbing and He groaned at me and stumbled out of bed.

So I face another day of being here on my own. I don't feel lonely though, I know He would be here if He could and I know that things will settle down. (Nods emphatically). Actually, around about now I should be getting worked up about it and I am not sure why I am not, maybe its because He looks so damn exhausted that I feel lucky He can remember where home is. The days are getting longer for both of U/us but W/we are both working towards a goal and pretty soon W/we will be back in routine again.

So nicki I am afraid that I can't help with your sex drive today, but stick around, when a Man is deprived of His normal sexual feeding, He becomes depraved when finally allowed near what He lusts. And when He becomes depraved, this girl gets devoured and I have a habit of telling everyone in this little place of mine. It's delicious.

At least with my Male it is.

A long time ago, back when Mac and I were friends, He told me that He used to be a complete bastard to girls. He said that He was the type of guy a girl should never fall for because He was a guy that would bite your lip while kissing you under the mistletoe, and grin as He made His way back to His girlfriend.

As He got older He quit doing things like that but it is an image of Him that has stayed with me. Before He made me His, I wrote this:


"Her eyes met his across the room and she knew. He was attracted to her. That was obvious. She gave this some thought as the evening progressed; her eyes and his meeting more than could be passed off as coincidence. People milled around, mostly inconsequential and mostly unnoticed. Social politeness was observed by both, jokes laughed at, serious ideas argued seriously.

Inevitably they come face to face. The room disappeared from around them. The expected greetings exchanged. She watched the way his eyes danced across her face, noting imperfections and the way they fit so perfectly to make her beautiful. She did not doubt he found her so, his appreciation obvious. They talked about inane things, the uncannily warm weather, the way the evening was progressing, mutual acquaintances, while they drank each other in.

Her face flushed slightly as she watched the words spill from his moist lips, his tongue moving expertly against his teeth as he formed each syllable. She was very aware of his presence, his stance, his hands as they talked. She was very aware of the way his body spoke to hers, the things his eyes said while his lips spoke of small nothings. He made her feel proud to be female, to be a woman. She answered his questions with subtle movements of her own. A soft brush of her fingers against her neck, a tug on a curl of her hair, the flush that crept through her skin making her glow. He was aware of the effect his presence had on her and it caused him to smile.

She felt his smile deep within her being and she wondered at the reactions this stranger could cause with in her. She could see herself kneeling at his feet, surrounded by his strength and love, she could imagine herself wrapped nakedly around his body engulfed in his pleasure, she could envision herself giving totally to this man all she was. Her heart raced within her chest as she found herself wishing this man would take her, demand things of her she had never imagined doing. She wanted his control, his presence, his dominance as part of her life. He reached out and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. She shuddered with the overwhelming desire that over took her. The need to beg this man for his attention welled up inside her.

Her breath escaped from her lips in a hiss as they were suddenly joined by another who moved in close beside him. He grinned wickedly at her obvious discomfort. He turned to the intruder and slid his arm around the girl's tiny waist. She fought back the shock as he introduced her to his girlfriend. She could see the laughter in his eyes as she felt herself struggle to maintain control of her emotions. She waited an appropriate length of time before she politely excused herself and made her escape.

His eyes followed her like that of a hunter following his prey. He knew that she thought the game was over, but for him, it was only just starting to get interesting."


Sometimes, when Mac is watching me, I still feel like He is the hunter following His prey.

I just hope He captures me tonight.

I don't have much to say today, except this...


"'You...' He started and her lips pressed against His to stop His words. Her tongue gently licked the corners of His mouth until He opened and allowed her entry. She kissed Him deeply, needing to posses His mouth the way He possessed her mind. Completely. She pulled away from Him and looked at Him with all the love she felt.

'Shhhh,' she whispered and pressed a finger across His lips. He pulled her back to Him, His hands framing her face as they kissed again. She felt His tongue invade her mouth and she gave up any hope of conscious thought, trusting her body to react to Him in the way it should. She let her mind drift, knowing that He would find all that He required for His pleasure inside her and she allowed herself to do what she found was the most simple and most filling thing to do.

She loved Him with everything she had."


Yes, that pretty much says it all.

This morning when Mac said 'I want your tits' I thought He meant He wanted to fuck them. He didn't though. He wanted to mark them as His. This is something W/we used to do a lot before W/we lived together. Before He left He would suck/bite a mark into each of my breasts so that I would be marked until W/we were together again. Since W/we have lived together I have usually had His mark on me somewhere, breast, neck, thigh, pussy or such. Sometimes it is a love bite. Sometimes it is a bruise from His teeth. It just depends on what He feels like doing at the time.

I removed my top and bra and He kissed my breast, licking and sucking on the nipple before moving beneath it to suck/bite it for a few seconds. Then He moved to the other breast. I love it when I am marked in this way. I was ordered to kneel and take His orgasm from Him with my mouth and I did, licking, suckling, nuzzling until He thrust Himself into my mouth and came deep in my throat, growling at me not to swallow. His semen dripped from my lips and when I tried to stop it He told me to allow it all to spill from my mouth.

He pulled me to my feet and asked me if I wanted Him to take my skirt off. I told Him no, I just wanted it pulled up. He asked if I wanted my panties off and again I said no, I just wanted them pulled down to my knees. He approved of my choices and stepped back to look at me. I had semen in a line from my chin down to my belly and also lines of it on my breasts where it had dripped from my mouth. My skirt was up my panties down and Mac grinned.

'Slut' He said.

He pulled me towards Him and pushed His cock between my legs. I couldn't open my legs because of my panties so I pushed my thighs together to force His cock up against my pussy. He still couldn't get inside me, but the feeling of Him rubbing against me as He fucked my legs was delicious. He told me how much He would love to present me to a room full of men the way I looked, cum-soaked, exposed but unfuckable. They could suck on my breasts, they could slide between my legs, but they couldn't get inside me unless I begged for Him to allow it. And I begged. I begged Mac to fuck me, I begged Him to please fuck me. He waited until He was ready, until I was desperately trying to get more contact between my pussy and His cock, then He pushed me back onto the bed and pulled my panties from my legs and W/we both came with Him deep inside me.

There is something naughty about having my panties around my knees that I just adore. It feels wrong, and I enjoy the feeling of doing something so simple that makes me feel dirty and this is not something new for me. I remember as a child, around the age of 3 and 4 I would climb into bed of a night time and once my mother had turned out the light, I would pull my panties to my knees and my nightshirt up under my arms and push my belly against the big teddy bear I always slept with. I knew it was wrong and that my mother would think I was a bad girl if she caught me, but I spent so much time trying to be her good girl that I enjoyed being bad with the safety of knowing I wouldn't get caught. It's not much different to how I feel today. I enjoy doing bad things, knowing that Mac is there to keep me safe. Of course I still have to look myself in the mirror in the morning and still like the person that I see and the truth is I do. I am a good person at heart, and I do my best never to hurt other people. If I occasionally go against my moral upbringing and have sex with a few (dozen) people and find it very exciting, so be it.

Mac would at this point say stop trying to justify your choices and He is right, I shouldn't try and justify my choices to anyone but Mac and I.

All I really wanted to say was I like feeling like a bad girl. It turns me on.

And I can't see anything wrong with that.

I look back over the last two posts and I wonder if people actually understand. I read your comments and I know that some of you do. Mac has been really busy with work and it has been hard on me. I am used to having Him around a lot more. W/we went through a lot of changes to O/our routine in a short amount of time. I don't deal well with change.

Also, I needed to be strong for Mac. I needed to be tough enough to handle the distance between U/us. At times this was a physical distance, He has been away a lot of late, and at times He has slept in O/our bed but He was too exhausted to talk and too tired to listen and W/we knew that tomorrow was going to be an even longer day. I didn't want to put any more pressure on Mac. I didn't want to be a burden. So I started to shut down. I started getting cold towards Him.

I have issues with trying not to love too much. I was once told that being loved by me is like eating a very sweet dessert. You want it, you crave it and a few bites in you realise that if you get any more you are going to throw up. I always think that description is apt. I believe that after a while my love becomes too sweet. It gets sickening and I so I take it away. Not just a little bit, all of it away. I can't seem to find a balance so I keep it all inside.

So I had all these things bubbling away inside me and I couldn't let them out. Mac took them from me in short bursts when He could, the night with Ben and the night He made soft gentle love to me and I cried were two of the times. But still it was there.

So when Mac had the time He took the pressure away. He did it because I asked for it and because I needed it. He did it because He knew that if He didn't, I would do it to myself and at least He had control of it this way. He did it because He knew it would arouse me enormously and there are definite advantages to having an extremely aroused girl by your side. He did it because He wanted to protect me from me.

Did He do it enough? Yes, it was enough, but if I had a choice, I would have taken more. I begged Him for more. He said no. I trust Him fully to know what is enough and I know when He says no, He means it.

And now it feels like He is here, even though He isn't. Work is keeping U/us apart again but I feel connected to Him more. I know that He will take care of me and He doesn't think I love Him too much and He can deal with what needs dealing with. It feels like He took the weight from my shoulders and I can relax and get on with doing the things I have to do to be the best me I can be. His me.

Yesterday I walked into the hallway in just a skirt and bra as I was hunting down the top I wanted to wear. Mac had just walked out of the other room and He looked at my half dressed body with appreciation. I smiled at Him. He pulled me towards Him. I ran my fingers through His hair and He kissed me. I sucked on His tongue. Then I had my back to the wall and His cock in my hands as He pulled up my skirt and lifted me, guiding me slowly onto Him. W/we made love like that, lip sucking, muscle clenching, cock throbbing, toe curling love. There were many whispered words of love and appreciation most of which Mac denies responsibility for as He was on the verge of orgasm when He said them, but I know that each of them was true.

When W/we were finished, He lowered me to the floor and my knees trembled, hence being fucked against a wall being called a knee trembler. Mac was telling the truth.

"Sarah likes knee tremblers."

Sarah likes them very much.

Yesterday, things changed around here. Nothing major, nothing that people would be able to look at and say 'oh look, that's different' but it is a change none the less.

Mac and I were talking yesterday, I mentioned to Him that He and I seemed to be heading into a relationship more intense then it has ever been. He didn't say much. He rarely does when I am discussing 'U/us'. I think He feels it is safer if He just sits quietly (and thinks about rugby). But yesterday He got up and left me sitting on my own quite happily with my thoughts.

He called to me and I went to Him in the bedroom. I saw the switch in His hand. My heart stopped.

'Do you want this, bitch?'
'Yes, Love, I do.' I answered with a calmness I didn't feel.

Then He said something that made my heart start beating again. He said that until He told me otherwise I was to address Him as Master and that I was to assume the submissive pose in His presence. A thousand thoughts went through my mind as I went to my knees before Him and answered Him with 'yes Master'. I needed this. I needed my submission to Him to be complete. It has been building inside me for a while and Mac was allowing it out. I looked at Him a moment. 'Master' has always been something W/we have avoided because so many men demand it instead of allowing it. I realised that Mac was giving me this gift.

He told me that He was going to mark the top of my breasts, that I would be expected to wear a low cut top when W/we went out, my marks would be visible.

'Would you be proud of that, slut?'
'Yes Master.' I answered. I was aroused beyond belief.

I knelt up on my haunches, my hands cupping beneath my breasts, my head back so that He had clear access to my breasts and I felt so much pride at being exactly who I am. He was going to mark me and people would see it. I wasn't scared. I just wanted it so much that I thought I might burst. He looked at me with love and lust and it made my pussy throb.

Four strokes designed to bring tears to my eyes, and then He leant down and raped my mouth with His tongue. He slapped my face.

Four more strokes and He slapped my face again then He held Himself still while He used my mouth to fuck His cock. He slapped me again.

Four more strokes and He told me to look at my tits. I did, and I was amazed. I was shaking from holding position and my breasts were crossed with huge welts and thin lines of blood. The pain reached deep inside me and stroked something primitive and basic in my core. I don't understand it, but I felt wild and I felt free, like nothing could hold me down.

Mac told me to get up on the bed and lie on my back. He pushed my knees up to my chest and told me to hold my legs like that. I obeyed.

Six hard strokes across my ass, touching my pussy and making me scream. He forced His cock inside me and my muscles clenched tight. Six strokes of His cock and I moaned when He took it away. Six more with the switch and six with His cock and I came, begging Him for more.

He traced His cock along some of the bleeding welts and told me to kneel again. He held His cock in front of me and I could see my blood smeared across the head of it. I reached for it with my tongue but Mac slapped me and told me to open my mouth, any semen I failed to swallow would be rubbed into my tits. He ordered me to masturbate while He jerked His cock and He told me that He would like to take me to a pub and pick up some men and let them jerk off and see who could get the most semen in my mouth. I came as He came and I tried to stay still as my body convulsed. His semen landed on my face and on my chin and I caught some with my tongue.

W/we showered, content to touch each other and hold each other and laugh together. He told me that the bra I wore needed to push my breasts up and together so that the marks would sting and keep my pussy wet. He approved of a top that showed off some of the deep red lines.

The appointment was to sign the contracts for the house. (Yes, W/we got the house!) W/we exchange contracts at the end of the month. I was on the edge of my chair with excitement and flushed with arousal and when W/we were left alone for a moment, Mac reached between my legs and made me come. He grinned at my attempts to compose myself before the lawyer came back.

W/we went to lunch and made me come again while W/we waited for O/our food. I was biting my already sore lip and gripping the arms of the chair so tight that my knuckles were white, trying so very hard not to even whimper.

When W/we arrived home He used me for His pleasure, without regard to my orgasm, just taking His own as He bent me over the back of the couch and fucked me. I thrilled to hear and feel Him come. I felt His ownership deeper and His love stronger and I realised that I am happy in this place. More than happy, I am thrilled and aroused and filled.

I sat on my own, thinking this over while Mac got some urgent work done. And then I went to Him and knelt beside His chair. I wont go into detail, as some things belong to Mac and I and this is one of them. I will just say I asked Mac if He would allow me to submit completely to Him.

He decided to allow it.

I feel like I have come home.

There is a rule that Mac and I have. "Don't ask the question if you cant handle the answer." Sometimes I would do well to remember this. There is a switch that has sat in the corner since I said I wanted to be caned. Mac has not mentioned it, and I never asked because I wasn't sure that I wanted to know. But yesterday I asked to be hurt. I didn't expect Him to stay home, but He did. And the answer was...

'Come here, Sarah.' He called simply, yet His tone said so much more and I felt myself submitting to Him before I even entered the room. I went to stand before Him and couldn't raise my eyes, I didn't need to, His hand at my throat brought my face up so my eyes met His.

'Is this what you want?' He teased me as He gently squeezed my throat and lightly kissed my lips. And then He slapped me and kissed me harder as His fingers tightened around my neck.

He slapped me again. Open palm against one cheek and then backhanded across the other until my cheeks burnt from His attention. He kissed me again, a tongue thrusting, mouth fucking, biting, bruising kiss. He slapped me once more.

He ordered me to undress and I did so quickly, cooling my cheeks with my hands. He reached for the switch and I tensed, my body shuddering with apprehension as the heat between my legs increased. He told me to lie on my back on the bed and He used pillows to raise my hips. He positioned my hands to hold my breasts from above, displaying to Him the underneath. I bit my lip and held my breath and I was nowhere near prepared for the white-hot pain that filled my brain.

It was like a thousand tiny mouths with the sharpest of teeth had all decided to feast on me at once. I hated it and I loved it, I feared it and I desired it and I knew that He wasn't going to stop. He raised the switch and brought it down to bite at the underside of my tits again. A metallic taste filled my mouth and I realised it was my blood and I released my lip before I hurt it anymore. On the third stroke I screamed and I lost track of how many after that but I don't think it was long before the screaming stopped and the pain didn't seem to matter anymore. I looked at Him through tear stained eyes and He stopped and bent over to lick along my breasts. I knew the skin was broken from the way that it stung and it just wasn't important at the time.

Mac moved around the bed and told me to open my legs and I begged and pleaded with Him not to as I immediately obeyed. He made me ask for it. He made me beg for it. He made me tell Him I was a slut that wanted her pussy whipped. I begged for it because I wanted it even though I was still shaking my head no. The pain was exquisite as the switch cut into my inner thighs and the place where my leg becomes my groin. He brought it down on my pussy and my clitoris throbbed in evil ecstasy, my body convulsing with each stroke. I realised I was coming and I wondered how I did that without myself knowing and I surprised myself by doing it again.

He tossed aside the switch and He slowly jerked His cock while watching my body spasm. His semen stung me as it landed on the welts. He growled and called me a whore as He rubbed His come into my cunt. He moved His mouth over me and He sucked and licked and bit at my clitoris until I started to scream again. He gathered His semen on His tongue and climbed up over my body. He spat His come on my tits, mixing it with my blood before gathering it up to spit in to my mouth. I was whimpering from the way His body rubbed against my burning skin and tried to push Him away. He laughed, pinning my hands to the bed with one of His own, using the other to slap my face once more. I started crying from somewhere deep inside and He fucked me, simply because He can. I belong to Him.

He held my throat and bit my lips, letting me breathe when He felt that I should. I continued coming as He squeezed and each time He felt my muscles contract He slapped my face again. I gripped at His cock as He fucked me harder and faster, His cock spurting deep inside me as He came. He swore, He cursed and He called me names and He collapsed His body against mine while He caught His breath. I sobbed beneath Him trying to catch mine. I wanted to fall apart and Mac let me, leaving me alone on the bed to cry.

When my storm was mostly over, I took the leather cuffs and went to look for Him. I found Him working in the other room. I knelt beside Him and offered Him the cuffs and said please and He allowed me to put them on. I sat quietly beside Him on the floor, just wanting to be near Him and every now and then He would reach down and pat me on the head.

After some time had passed He asked me if my tits hurt and my god, they did hurt. They felt like they were on fire and I was too scared to move because I knew it would hurt more. I quietly told Him that they hurt and that my thighs were stinging and my pussy burning and He looked at me, bemused. He asked me if my orgasm was near and I realised that it was and looked away and slowly nodded yes. He chuckled at my embarrassment and reached down between my legs to pinch my clitoris. I quickly came again. He wiped His fingers on my cheek and made me clean what was left on them with my tongue. Then He turned back to His work once again.

After more time had passed I noticed that He had stopped typing and I looked up at Him to find Him watching me. He told me His cock was hard and that I had to take care of it but I wasn't to use my hands. I licked and suckled at Him the best I could, tonguing His balls and nuzzling my cheek against Him the way I know He likes. He came against my cheek and hair before He pushed His cock deep into my mouth. When He moved me away from Him my cuffed hands came up to wipe His semen from my cheek but He slapped my hands away and told me to leave it there. I sat beside Him again and let it run down my face unheeded, very aware of its journey down my neck.

More time and I grew tired and I lent my head against His thigh and He asked me to wait just a few minutes more. He finished what He was doing and led me to the bathroom, bending me over the sink. I could see Him in the mirror, standing behind me and I tensed as I felt His cock press against my ass. He pressed more and I tensed more and He slapped my ass and tried again. Then He slapped my ass again. I cried. My breasts were stinging with each movement that I made and now He was making my ass hurt too. He pressed into me again and slowly I relaxed allowing His cock entry to my ass. He fucked me, watching my face in the mirror as He rocked Himself inside me. I wanted to hate Him for hurting me, but I loved Him for hurting me and I came twice more before He filled my ass with whatever semen He had left.

W/we showered together and He helped dry me, putting soothing cream on my breasts and thighs. He tucked me into bed and He lay down beside me and held me while I fell asleep.

I woke some time during the night to find Mac moving His body over mine. He whispered that He loved me, that I was His beautiful girl as I wrapped my legs around Him and made Him a part of me again. W/we made love very gently, softly and He was careful not to hurt my breasts too much. W/we stayed like that a long time, touching each other, marvelling in each other, adoring each other's body. He told me that I please Him and I told Him that I love Him and W/we fell back asleep without either of U/us coming.

I sit here this morning and my glance is drawn to the corner although I don't want to look. The switch is there and it shouldn't be in this room. He must have put it in here when He left the bedroom yesterday and it is messing with my mind. I want to touch it, but I am scared to, the pain is still so fresh that it makes my heart beat faster just knowing it is here. My breasts still sting and thighs still burn when I move and it is keeping my orgasm close. I keep squirming and leaking into the chair. How can I be so turned on by pain? How can I crave something that hurts so much? How can I want already to be used again? I needed Him to do it. I needed His domination and I love Him for every moment He gave and I know that He will be there when I need it again.

Sometimes, thankyou just isn't a big enough word.