The resistance

The dregs of the migraine swirled around in a sluggish way leaving one feeling less than inclined to go to the gym. Of course it would have been the best place to go. Free endorphins are better than any little pill, but sometimes even one small and slightly masochistic slave just can't quite crank up the energy to run around the corner to it. It was a decision that one was regretfully bemoaning to Him...

I could always beat you, He offered helpfully

Um... no thank you. All pain is not equal as far as the body is concerned

I'm getting very mixed messages here, He said. There you are assuming the position...

He started this rather disturbing pantomime of flogging, with sound effects

Straitening up hastily from leaning on the bench for support... a mistake with a migraine might one add... one watched the show uneasily.  You are really not helping... at all. In fact you are adding to the general discomfort one is feeling.

Are you sure He asked, leering suggestively in one's direction. You ask for pain, assume the position and then complain when I offer to help.

He managed to look slightly aggrieved as though he was somehow the innocent party in all of this.

See that's what they do... turn things around and mess with your mind and your perceptions when you are weak and unable to shield yourself.  They make you question and second guess yourself until you no longer know what reality is and what is their creation...

We shall not succumb. This blog is a record. It is the proof of what is being done...

The arrival

We have taken delivery of some very interesting toys of late. Of course life being what is is at the moment there seems to be no time to actually do anything with them. Well other than look at them, briefly, before putting them in the laundry basket that is. That basket is starting to contain the ashes of our hopes and dreams of an interesting sex life...

Sort of a monument...

Or a pyre

Sighs and wonders quietly how some of you manage this with children

And so...

The domestic servitude continues...
After not recovering as quickly as His mother would like she went back to the doctors. Actually she saw ours this time. Being the lovely efficient doctor that she is, the whole thing took forever and His mother was packed off for more x-rays and to assorted specialists, rather than A&E at our local hospital.

It seems she was even less cat like than first thought...
Well certainly less cat like than the original round of x-rays led everyone to believe.
Her pelvis is broken in two places. She's going to be on that Zimmer frame for at least another four weeks.
And He has been promoted to chauffeur.
Perhaps He needs a uniform too...

All touched out

He lay there alongside one small slave who was busy trying to do a little personal grooming. His hand reached out to tweak, caress, prod and generally be as annoying as possible. Every few minutes He would gather one in his arms and wrap himself around one's body like a human boa constrictor...
Now you are all reading this thinking that is so sweet and affectionate... aren't you?

Well you are wrong. The man radiates heat like a blast furnace at this time of the year, not to mention one was trying to not end up with bald spots in the eyebrows or lose an eye.
He does this shit until one literally screams in rage and frustration and is covered in small bruises from trying to get away

Mutters He is utterly hateful when bored and trying to amuse himself 

Bastard!

50 more shades

We scampered out late at night to catch Thor before it disappeared from the movies. It was rather slow or we were very tired, but...

There was one scene with Chris Hemsworth that did make up for it

Boy did he put some definition into his size J

A question for the gods

Why is it that you expedite the slutty dress and bras through the post and leave the shoes, which one actually needs to go with a dress for the work Christmas party, in some port on the other side of the world?

Why???!!!!

It's not, as He suggested, 'cos the gods are his people

Nor is it luck... HIs other pet theory

And it is not that the universe wants one to be more slutty... you just know where that suggestion came from don't you?

Mutters you know for such a rational person so many of His suggestions seem to rely on mythical agents

50 Shades of Geek

Today, with great anticipation in our hearts, we scampered off to see The Day of the Doctor at the movies. We dragged ourselves out into the seething mass of humanity that is a shopping centre, with good air conditioning, on an incredibly hot and humid day. The cool was something of a bonus, truth to be told we would have still done it if it had been in the single digits outside.

Why you may be wondering? Ah well it was in 3D and as anyone knows 3D makes everything better. No not really, but what good geek can resist? He certainly couldn't so neither could one small, slightly geeky slave.

There might have been a little Christmas shopping done on the way and there might have been a pair of shoes and an unnecessary dress make it into the bag. Well the shoes were necessary. It's what happens when you buy a pink dress on a whim... have you people any idea how many shades of pink there are? And they are all the wrong shade for the shoes at the moment. That is why the shoes might be a glittering rainbow of sequins.

Sighs now if you will excuse one small shoephile a cull is in order... actually it's a necessity L

Not the pussy

Every once in a while one makes the mistake of checking out His tumbler and catching up on what he's been perving on. Now it's a mistake not because He doesn't find great pictures, he does, or because there aren't some utterly whimsical shots, 'cos there are. It's a mistake because every once in a while there is something deeply disturbing. There is one such picture up there at the moment... actually it's a gif which adds to the distressing aspect.

Coming into the room He asked what one was looking at 'cos he's so controlling just the nosiest person on earth.

That very unsettling picture of the flogging

Yeah I thought that looked like so much fun

Not fun. That word doesn't mean what you think it means.

You don't want to do that He asked in disbelief.

No, not with you.

He looked hurt.

Apart from the fact that one hates being hit there 'cos it hurts like fuck, the flogging that they are doing is quite gentle. You wouldn't do it like that.

I would He declared. For the first couple of times at any rate He added almost as an afterthought.

See its statement like that which does nothing to improve the trust levels. At all. In fact the truthful nature of the statement does nothing to improve the situation generally. The whole thing is just worrying.

That's got to be abuse.

Right?

Persistence in the face of adversity

If someone was to ask what is the one quality that most masters have one would have to come down on the side of persistence. All tinkering, modification, Jedi mind tricks and long term plans need that ingredient. And frankly from what one has observed most of the owner types seem to have it in spades... it seems to be a companion piece to those hoarding instincts.

Round here though, it manifests itself in strange ways. Take this little tale as an example...

He bought one small slave a present. Now He is not a big gift giver... well not the kind you can open in front of others at any rate... so a spontaneous present is a treat. Opening up the package there laid the most fabulous pair of leopard stockings in a deep red and black. So fun!

Trying them on with great speed and alacrity we were both miffed to find that they refused to stay up. It didn't matter where they were put, they rolled.

Now a lesser mortal would have been disappointed. Not Him... oh no. One small slave came home from work to find Him awake and ready with questions...

Do you use moisturiser on your legs... it's the biggest reason why the latex tops doesn't adhere.

No, rarely... probably should moisturise more often come to think of it...

Things went on in this vein... it was starting to feel like an interrogation. All that was missing was the lights...

Well there is a solution He announced. There is special body glue that can be used to stick them in place. You might feel a bit of a tug on the skin when you move and the tights flex, but they will hold. I've ordered you some from Amazon.

So Cinderella will be wearing leopard print tights come this winter...

Triage

As a casual observation one has noticed that given a choice between responding to stinging, burning pain or low grade thudding pain the body will always notice the former first. The body seems to have a grading system for pain. Anything that might represent a danger to the body is addressed first.

What a pity the body doesn't think of that before getting in a room with Him...

On the Kindle this week...

After spending the last week catching up on the final three Sookie Stackhouse books...

To be honest after the last season of the TV show one is too scared to watch the latest one... there's jumping the shark and then there was that last season. What were they on... the writers that is, not the vampires...

One small slave snuffled around the kindle to find BDSM The Naked Truth by Dr. Charley Ferrer

Thirty percent of the way one has come to a couple of conclusions. Well one really...

We are doing it wrong.

Mutters and if He thinks he's getting aftercare he is mistaken, as well as wrong

Covert ops

He got on to the bed next to one small slave and snuggled up, kissing the bare skin on the back as he did so. Then He rolled on top, his long legs forcing one's own apart. The kissing continued. A hand reached around for a nipple and then the other hand did the same. Before a girl could say Rumpelstiltskin His legs spread apart, forcing one's own to do the same and lifting up the pelvis in the process...

Damn Him and his superior height...

The kissing that had continued throughout this process suddenly became small playful nips along the back and then HIs hands pinched the nipples in his grasp as the nips turned to bites.

And there one was trapped with everything open and exposed to Him

Bastard... sneaky bastard!

And so it continues

We did the smart thing though...

We medicated them within acceptable parameters, fed them and then fled for an evening without them. One very stylish master and one very hot red frock and impossibly high heels later we almost felt human. It lasted all the way to the pub, which does very good food and has an extensive gluten free menu, where we encountered the bar staff from hell. Well it was more some work release programme.

Putting in an order for a glass of wine one was met with a blank stare. What he said looking confused.

It's wine.

He looked around blankly.

Its white wine, it's probably in the fridge.

A few seconds of rummaging produced a bottle that he brandished triumphantly. There was an inch left in it. Not enough he said dolefully.

By then the eyebrows must have reached the hairline.

He peered back at the fridge and said no more with a helpless shrug of his shoulders.

By then one had lost any desire for a drink with dinner (though the desire to smack the man behind the bar with the nearly empty bottle was strong) and had water instead. It was a shame 'cos the pork with an apple cider BBQ sauce would have been complimented by a glass of something admirably.

Still it was an excellent dinner and there wasn't a Zimmer frame in sight...

In this world you take your wins where you can J

The Zimmer frame wars

Slowly they shuffled forward, inch by painful inch, both with grim determination and purpose. Until finally the inevitable happened; they met in the middle where they stood glaring at each other, unable to get past.

You back up.

No, you have more room to turn.

Hearing this one trotted down to see what was going on...

Two Zimmer frames at an impasse was what was going on. Dear gods they could see each other coming down the length of the bloody hallway. They had to wait until they reached the middle?

This slavery shit sucks! Where's the kneeling at His feet, the sexual usury... the hot and heady glamour that is portrayed in photos? Parent minding was not on any of those lists you see floating around the net.

Mentally adds no parents to the ideal master list...

And then there were two

Today was spent in the service of others and not at work to the annoyance of the boss. His mother had a fall. Actually she managed, in one of those freak accidents, to get her foot trapped in the car and she fell out of the door. Let's just say she doesn't have cat like reflexes shall we? Anyhow the end result is now there are two of them shuffling down the halls on their Zimmer frames.

So if you will excuse one small slave she is about to scamper off to make yet another cup of tea or coffee...

Honestly how can you drink that many cups of the bloody stuff?

And its decaf too...

Ew just ewww shudders quietly 

Logic... maybe not

There is a delightful line of reasoning passing around Fet at the moment that goes something like this...

If you are unhappy you can leave. You won't know that until you are unhappy 'cos at the moment you are happy.

Um... is this a good time to point out that no one is happy all the time? In fact some people experience misery, both the small and the large kind, on a daily basis. Despite this lack of unrelenting happiness there they still are, for that matter here we still are, in those relationships.

So either there is something very wrong with us... a distinct possibility though generally those who have issues are the last to realise it...

Or there is something very wrong with the logic.

From this vantage point down the hole one has to say...

It's the logic.

But then what would one know, poor deluded, irrational and dysfunctional being that one is... flutters eyelashes while flopping around helplessly...

What?

No takers?  

Sex on stilts

Found these little babies online for the grand sum of $20. How could a girl resist?

LOL

It seems it is Love Our Lurkers day... well it was yesterday... or maybe it was the day before? It's very hard to keep track of these things with international dates. But anyway LOL day... Let's just pretend it's today shall we?

LOL day is when we, the bloggers, take a moment to not only thank our readers, but to acknowledge those of you who come on silent feet, or keyboards as the case may be, often every day and who are the silent majority. The ones who come to snicker quietly at one small slave's valiant attempts to thwart Him...

Hmmpf put like that one is a little unsure why one is thanking you...

Oh well guess its polite and all that...

So thank you one and all J

Attraction

Most species spend time attracting a mate and how some of them go about reproducing with that mate is intriguing. Oddly enough though, some of the most fascinating reproducers are plants. Often when you put them under a UV light, their petals fluoresce like landing strips to guide some poor insect to their most intimate parts. Now for those of you who are wondering why we are skipping down the path of biology, there is a reason...

It's linked to that damn bikini and the lack of Vit. D. Or rather, the suggestion that one gets out in the sun. Not having been in sun for nearly 17 years... well He prefers his women pale and interesting... it has been something of a shock to get a tan.

See this is one of those situations where sometime your preferences as an owner get overridden by medical considerations. Strange how that kind of shit never gets talked about when people are thumping their masterly chests proclaiming that they don't compromise. Everyone everywhere compromises sometimes. But this is not what this is about...

In this climate a tan is unavoidable even with only 20 minutes two or three times a week. Fortunately one doesn't burn, but rather one goes a pleasant shade of golden brown. A fact that He noticed as one was in the bathroom, pointing out that one was getting a distinct bikini bottom.

Looking in the mirror one had a small revelation. That tan line has formed two distinct triangles front and back. Triangles that stand out like large arrows pointing to a target...

Arrows that make very good targets in their own right...

And He thinks they will be fun to colour in

No good is going to come of this...

Mutters forget worrying about skin cancer. He is a far more clear and present danger

Lest we forget

Medically induced

As one eased very, very gingerly into the car seat next to Him, desperately trying to not engage abdominals, shoulders, back or thigh too much, he shot a baleful glance in one's direction.

I've told you that if the gym work interferes with our sex life, it's going

Oh this won't interfere. OK one might not be exactly mobile, but it doesn't preclude one from just lying there.

You know I like medical play as much as the next man...

Well that was something of a revelation. And to be honest one isn't sure stuffing one small slave into a nurses costume counts as medical play

But having you in traction wasn't quite what I had in mind.

See that's where He went wrong. The secret of any long term relationship is adaption. Well that and taking advantage of...

Mind you He did do that very thing as we drove along...

Hmm...

Maybe the man doth protest too much

Left hanging

Every once in a while He loads up something on the kindle that is pleasurable rather than designed to expand one's mind... or warp it depending on your perspective. At the heart of His experiments is the fact that one has an unabashed love of pulp. Hell one was bought up (that's a lose descriptor there) by a mother who loved Sci-Fi. That's not to say that some of the best writers in the world don't write Sci-Fi, but more that it was only a small slip to the left to find one's self in the land of fang and claw. Anyhow this is not about how one slipped, more about where one landed...

For the last couple of weeks one has been happily immersed in The Bloodhound Files by D. D. Barant. The characters are whity and sharp, the plots suitably implausible, the werewolves are as likable as the family dog and the vampires are sexy. In other words, it's perfect reading for on the bus. In truth though, it was stretched out on the couch that one came to the end of book six.

Checking the publication date one discovered that it was 2012. Enough time that the next book should be in the pipeline. So scampering off to the computer to find out when the next book is due one came upon a nasty discovery. The author has decided to abandon the series. Now that is of course their decision. There is only one... OK two... little problems with this...

The main character has been left between two worlds, making a choice about where they are going and with whom. Now some people love endings like that. You can make the ending whatever you want it to be. One small slave is not one of those people.

It's the not knowing. It slowly eats away at any liking of the character... OK let's be honest here... the author. The ending is up there with the ending of The Soprano's... and we all know how much that pissed people off.

Oh and the other problem? The author has turned their attention to their next series. Apparently it's about two detectives... a cat and a dog... who are ghosts. It's called Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot.

WTF indeed!

OMG!!!

Well one small slave tottered to the gym to begin the new programme. Looking back now, from the comfort of the office chair, one has to say that was where it all went wrong. Honestly one should have stayed on the couch where it was nice and safe and completely nonthreatening... well apart from Him appearing. That little occurrence makes any room or surface unsafe, but one does digress.

As a person one is quite fit and strong. There is a lifetime of exercise under the hood and years of muscle built up. Muscle that, might one add, was strangely absent during some of the new programme. Honestly when one is reduced to four sets of two of something, things are... well... pretty darn feeble. And frankly the PT's suggested ten reps was laughable... well it would have been if one actually had that much air to spare.

Of course to add insult to injury, as one was straddled across His lap recounting this little tale of woe...

A state that was making one uncomfortably aware of some muscles that had been heavily involved with staying perched on top of one of those stupid fitness balls during some of the other exercises...

He was laughing.

Bastard!

In absentia

Arriving home there was a small explosion of parcels on the bench. Some underwear had arrived. Honestly one is having more luck buying lingerie on the net than one has ever had in the shops. What normally happens there is one walks into the changing room with six items and if one is very lucky there might be one that fits. The notable exception to this rule seems to be Simone Perele. Mutters of course Pink and Perk have expensive taste... they aren't paying for them.

On line though, the strike rate is much higher, to the tune of only two rejects in twenty odd orders. It would seem that British and European companies design for a much fuller breast than they do down here. It is worth noting that the European companies seem to make their pants smaller than their British counterparts though. Maybe all those pastries and rich carbohydrate foods aren't as bad as we have been led to believe J

Anyway back to the explosion of underwear...

Surveying the mess one realised that somehow He had still managed to rummage through one's knickers...

Even though one hadn't even been there for the experience...

And for some reason one didn't feel any less violated.

Dancing with drama

Snuffling around Fet, learning once again that those of us who prefer long term committed relationships, with a healthy dose of inequality, are sad pathetic creatures who can't survive in the real world, one stopped to take a moment to tell Him he was doing it wrong... again. Not knowing the cause of one's dissent He hazarded a few guesses...

What? You don't have enough time to whine all over the net about how I'm treating you wrong? Oh wait; you do that on a daily basis...

You do get that some of the stuff one writes isn't even about you?

Oh I see. You don't care enough to make me the focus of your life He replied

Mutters that damn drama degree is never wasted L

Revisiting childhood

You know one said, grabbing another brown bag, going to wholefood stores is like taking a step back in time. Brown paper bags...

Something one always associates with childhood

He raised an eyebrow

Well when one was a child everything came in brown paper bags. Even rubbish was put out in the street in large ones. Except that they were collected by off season rugby players. They ran down the street, picked them up and hoyed them into the trucks manually.

Women all along the street used to look forward to rubbish day one suspects...

What was not to like? Men in their prime wearing shorts and singlets running after a truck...

Ahhh... the good old days... J

A date with a professional sadist

Personally one has long held the belief that all inquisitors come back in this life as personal trainers. It's one of the many reasons that one generally peruses gym work solo... well that and the fact that He refuses to join one in those pursuits. In spite of one's best endeavours though, once in a blue moon one finds oneself in their clutches. It's usually in the form of a programme change.

So off one scampered to deliver oneself at the appointed hour. After losing 20 kgs it is time to focus on a bit more tone rather than size. Besides after replacing the wardrobe three or four times in the last year one is loath to do it again, particularly back in the other direction. Call a girl vain if you will J

After an hour in that mans clutches may one just take a moment to say...

Ow! Ow fucking ow!

And the real work hasn't even begun. That was just the run through L

Nap time down the hole

Sitting at the computer He loomed in the doorway...

Finally going to give in and have a snooze huh?

Yep and you're coming to put me to sleep He said

Um... kinda in the middle of something here...

He stalked into the room and grabbed the collar, inconveniently shutting off some of the air supply. Hoisting one off the chair He frog marched one towards the bedroom, with a detour to shut the front door. In doing so He brushed up against one's arse...

Um you know it's not normal to be aroused by manhandling your partner in this way?

His response was to toss one onto the bed and clamp both wrists in one hand, while pulling his shorts down with the other.

Damn you and your superior reach!

Ankles ended up around His neck, pinned by his shoulders as he grabbed a wrist in each hand. Forcing His way between reluctant lips he thrust in, repeatedly banging up against a nonexistent cervix... which for the record hurts just as much as when you do have one... eliciting a small yelp every time he hit the target.  It went on for what felt like hours. Finally it was over...

Goddammit one exclaimed rubbing wrists. The last lot of wrist bruises have only just faded. And why do we always end up miles from the tissues?

He smiled, rolled over without disengaging and stretched, reaching the tissues with ease

Hmmph! Maybe that superior reach has some uses...

Small miracles...

So the body closed out its fake period with a classic migraine. It occupied most of yesterday and the meds kicked one in the arse, but it was killed off in its infancy. So off one went to the gym after a good snooze, fully expecting that it would make its usual comeback in the morning.

The day dawned clear and hot...

And there was no migraine.

It was a one day event. That has never happened before. Ever! Maybe not poisoning the body with wheat did work...

True love

He has something of a chocolate addiction. To be honest one had no idea how bad it was until our first Easter when one got to witness Him nibble, munch and graze His way through a kilo egg. He was slightly dizzy towards the end there and even that didn't stop him. Well, lesson learnt. After that one did not buy Him one of those ever again.

On this diet one of the things He had to do was to give chocolate up. It's just too high in calories, fat and carbohydrates. It was an ugly process as He has to work with the stuff and it is always talking to him in slithery tongues. It was all going swimmingly until the advent of the high protein sports bars. They all seem to be covered with a thin veneer of chocolate.

Now here is where one would like to say that sports bars are a special kind of evil. Not only are they full of things that the body doesn't need, but they are often full of artificial sweetners that cause issues of their own. If you are prone to a sweet tooth they will increase it over time and being artificial, they increase the level of sweetness your body will crave.

Needless to say He adopted them. They went from being a convenient form of protein if we were out to a permanent fixture... to the tune of nearly a box every couple of weeks. He went from rarely craving something sweet to fighting the itch every single day. And the voices got louder too. Some people are not good with a little of what they fancy. Addicts in their many forms are usually one of those groups of people one suspects.

This unfortunate state of affairs led to Him swearing off chocolate again for his own good. Now where is all this going you may be wondering? Ahhh... well... one of us on a couch craving chocolate and not the one you would think. It was so bad that He actually went out and bought one a small bar of the stuff.

A small bar one ate as fast as possible... ate all of it in fact when normally one would have left half of it for later. At any moment one expected to be pounced on and have it snatched away, but no He restrained himself, though he did ask that one get rid of the wrapper and the smell.

Now that people is true love in action J

It's the little things...

He got up to saunter off to the toilet...

He didn't have to ask permission...

He just did it...

One small slave hates Him...