Down the rabbit hole...

That weighty matter

2012-02-15T12:11:00.000-08:00

Over on Biddable's blog she wrote about her response to a couple of people's pontifications about weight. Like her one found most of the assumptions offensive. In fact one started to reply and it was getting to be such a diatribe that one stopped and decided to put it here instead. It is a topic that one has grazed over before... in passing.

The thing is it makes one furious that so-called intelligent people still keep spouting the myth that fat people are obviously lazy, who eat poorly and are unmotivated on some level. Why? Because it is a myth and one is a case in point. See all the women in the family are fat. Oh they don't start that way... if anything, rather as one once was, they start out skinny. Hell at 23 one fitted into size 14 clothes... umm... that's children's size 14 clothes by the way. But at the age of 35, as the women in the family are wont to do, one woke up with someone else's body.

No longer was one able to eat and never put on weight, no longer was one able to diet and drop a few pounds... literally in a couple of weeks, no longer was one able to do sport and never have to worry about weight. No, at the age of 35 the body went no. Not no as in we need to be coaxed, but no as in hell no. And there one was staring down the realisation that, like the rest of the women in the family, one was about to get fat. No not a little chubby, but clinically obese.

At 35, rather like the rest of the women in the family one suspects, PCOS had struck with a vengeance. Leaving one secure in the knowledge that all the diet and exercise in the world probably wasn't going cut it ever again. Not that the knowledge stopped one trying. With hand on heart one can say one has failed nearly every diet on the books... hell on some of the more famous ones there was actually a weight gain. In fact the only ones that had moderate success were low carb ones... and success is being defined here as the weight stabilised.

And exercise? Oh hell one walks... miles at work and on a treadmill and everywhere in between. In fact one spends six to eight hours a week in the gym weight training and walking... 'cos unlike cardio work (which one also does) it doesn't disturb the hormone levels in the body and make them canter off down the road to resistance. The diet is sensible 98% of the time, though one will come out for a little home baking, the job is active and after doing that, one still hits the gym regardless of how much one would rather just go home.

And all of that work results in the weight gain slowly, but surely, going up and up with every passing year. The difference is that the weight goes on at a rate of about 1-2 kilos a year rather than a month. And best of all one knows this is life as one is going to know it for, potentially, another 30 years at least... and it has been 13 years so far. And why? So some ill-informed pontificator can say that it is Master's fault that he doesn't shut off the food supply and make one exercise more because one doesn't have the necessary self control?

Well fuck you, you fatist fucks!

All of us have prejudices... it is a human thing. Of course not all of us feel obliged to pass judgement on people publically by writing that kind of drivel, gussied up as some sort of a public service designed to show our concern. And don't say there are exemptions for those trying to do something about it. You look at us with the same judgement you pass on everyone else... how can you not? You have no idea what is really going on, you just see the end results. Besides we all know you only tack those comments on so you can spew your misinformed shit, without guilt and without being accused of being the fatist that you are.

Why do you care what other people do in their relationship? For that matter why do you care what other people's property looks like?

Try looking to yourself and asking how can I be a better human being... 'cos seriously, some of us have a raft of suggestions.

Oh and while we are on the topic of self improvement you might like to catch up on recent research... you know the stuff that goes a long way to debunking most of your sage advice. For starters there is no evidence that exercise increases weight loss... in fact it actually increases appetite. They think exercise reduces stress hormones in the body, which in turn may aid weight loss. Secondly diets, even those rebranded as healthy eating... all they do long term is fuck with a metabolism... so starving the bitch ain't gonna work as you will find out... if she sticks around. Though why anyone would want to be owned by someone so ignorant beggars belief...

Now if you will excuse one small and pissed off slave the gym awaits... it's excellent for stress J

Love is...

2012-02-14T12:41:00.000-08:00

Warm... well He said he was just warming it up 'cos it felt cold

Thoughtful... hence the MEO plug (in this case the small) right before trying to stuff a hand in there

And sometimes it is cruel to be kind... in this case Histora's bloody paddles, well her owners at any rate

It is not love to keep poking the bruises on Valentine's Day while asking does this hurt?

Drought breaker

2012-02-13T12:48:00.000-08:00

Well our lovely friend flew through for a quickie visit... well you can do a lot in a day. So picking them up from the train station we stopped off for a few essentials and then went home. We had champagne, conversations, redacted, redacted, more champagne, redacted, and a shower. That was followed by a very late lunch, redacted, redacted, redacted, and another shower.

Then we had dinner and a movie followed by desert and then drove them home. You know when your guest has to use GPS to find their way home you just know they live in Woop Woop.

It was a lovely visit... but between the two of them... one suspects they broke something

Oh and real friends wouldn't help the abuser hold one small slave down... just saying. Mutters seriously need some nice friends J

A new day

2012-02-12T12:48:00.000-08:00

Well the day dawned bright and damned late. We were meant to go to breakfast, visit the market and go to the gym... well one of us was supposed to go. Of course what happened was one woke early and then slept in. There was barely time for morning mouse... it was not a good morning L In fact there wasn't enough time to go to the gym. But deciding to make the most of it we trotted off dutifully for breakfast.

Yes that is right, He left his lair... hell he even shaved and had the grace to smile. Though one did notice that He squinted a little in the bright light, but round here the light if fierce so that may have been a coincidence J We had breakfast in our favourite little hole in the wall cafe... where it was almost too hot to eat and where the conversation turned, as is to be expected, to Skyrim. For the entire breakfast might one add.

Then off we set to the markets. Now they aren't huge or particularly interesting markets, but one goes past them every Sunday on the way to work and thinks it would be so nice just to have the day off and wander round them. Besides He needed to leave the computer even if he wasn't so convinced. So wander them we did, as the sun blazed down with a ferocity that was both staggering and unpleasant.

After a while, in between comments about the light and the heat to which one tartly responded this is the outdoors... which wasn't exactly making one's case for being in it... He started to perk with interest at the food. And to question why we hadn't come here to eat. You know there wasn't a thing there that wasn't cooked in a lifetime's supply of fat... often its own. There was food there that one wouldn't even consider putting in one's body... or that of the worst enemy. Finally the heat drove us to the supermarket where we lingered by the frozen cabinet and wondered out loud if they would notice us setting up camp in their store.

Eventually we were driven out... we figured it was better if we left before we were asked to leave... and returned home... back to Skyrim. It seems it is a land of snow and ice. And the soundtrack of howling gales, along with the fan at full blast can almost make you believe it isn't sweltering. Well that was His excuse at any rate...

The day was not completely lost... The heat started to crank up along with the humidity. By late afternoon it was so bad He offered to take one out to dinner... we still had a comp from that disastrous work Christmas do. It was an offer one gladly accepted, even if it did mean having to put on clothes and going back there...

Oh my, didn't He have complainer on his file... never in the history of that place has a meal turned up so quickly or a plate been cleared so fast. You really could not fault the service or most of the food. The steak still has a large question mark over it though... see normally a very rare steak bleeds. This one did not and the meat was a particularly fluorescent shade of red and a rather strange texture. In fact one is still not convinced it was real steak as much as one of those reconstituted ones. At any rate we will not be dining there again. No one likes to question the authenticity of their steak.

And so we wandered home in the rain and the humidity, which had managed to turn it up a notch if that was possible, sated if mildly disturbed. Reaching our destination He fled back to Skyrim while one fled to the bedroom and air-con. To be lulled to sleep by TV and the realisation that He had made it through an entire dinner without once mentioning Skyrim. Man that must have made Him twitch on the inside... even more than the steak J

The reality

2012-02-11T13:33:00.000-08:00

All over the place you find people wittering on about power exchanges. Hell one does a fair bit of it here too. The thing is though that reality is often far different from the theoretical debates. Reality is also far less glamorous than people imagine too... quelle surprise

We went out last night to RPG night... we're on holidays so to make our Tuesday night vanillas happy we switched nights. Normally because we work end weeks the only time we can make it is that Tuesday night and they work and have kids, so it is a huge concession on their part to take time out of their hectic schedule to make it possible. Anyway we rocked up for an evening of "Dread"... except one small slave had forgotten an important detail. Well more didn't realise the implications of it until it was too late. You see they play Skyrim too...

The first hour and a half was taken up with Him and him, with the odd comment by her, discussing the finer details of why resorting to killing your companions is often a necessary survival strategy. Well that was the opening gambit... after that one sort of zoned out with a polite (yeah the one that looks like a small, savage dog barring its teeth) smile plastered on one's face. At the end of the thing she turned around and said you are very understanding about Him playing so obsessively. You know just occasionally you get glimmerings of how your friends really don't understand the power structures of your relationship at all. Understanding... seriously? For that matter she doesn't quite understand one either J

See in this power exchange one gets to express things like Skyrim is colonising your life... one doesn't get to nag Him into giving it up. So you can imagine one's delight when at dinner time He promptly shut off the programme and joined one for dinner and a little light entertainment...

The delight ended when He took over the whole couch, leaving one to stand up and drink the cup of tea one had just vacated the couch to make, before one drifted off to do something else. Not only because there was nowhere to sit, but because He was also drifting off... to sleep... at 8.30 in the evening.

Which is why one is sitting here writing about the reality of power exchanges in a 24/7 relationship. They don't look like the debates at all and there is precious little in the way of kneeling and gifts of submission. More often than not it is about sucking it up and dragging on the big girl panties, and acknowledging that just because you envisioned the evening being spent a certain way, doesn't mean that's what is going to happen. Not the one in charge, remember?

And so one is going to bed... to wake up with these very childish feelings of resentment and disappointment tucked firmly where they belong... in the big girl panties... for tomorrow is another day. There is no good reason why these feelings should be allowed to cloud that one J

Holiday snaps

2012-02-10T13:51:00.000-08:00

It is a strange thing, but here one is on holidays, free from both collar and plug and yet one still finds oneself on hands and knees...

In this case busily scrubbing floors. There is something so wrong with all this... not to mention that He will leave Skyrim to take happy snaps of it L

Responsibility

2012-02-09T12:50:00.000-08:00

A common, and frankly irritating, meme on Fet is that being owned is in some way trying to abdicate all responsibility for anything ever again. And of course you do this because you are trying to escape the responsibilities of life... usually because you are weak of mind and spirit. As with most things nothing could be further from the truth. Though it would be kinda nice if you could abdicate like that...

Round here we both have responsibilities for different areas. And you know often they are dependent on if He has any interest in the process. He has no interest in how a meal gets there, and for that matter when or what it is, so long as one turns up. Except for breakfast... He's big on breakfast. Mind you He also feverently hopes that meals will come in pill form before he dies... Do you have any idea how utterly insulting that is to a good cook... but as always one digresses.

No round here by and large responsibilities fall into three categories... His, ours and one small slaves. His include the major decisions and final says... oh and things he really wants to do and actively pursue... like killing one's arse with some horrid toy. Ours include things like the relationship 'cos like any relationship this one needs two active participants. People who are equally committed to keeping the relationship on the straight and narrow might one add.

All this brings us to one small slave's responsibilities... unfortunately some still exist. See round here one has a responsibility to Him and that includes being open and honest about what is going on in the crazy zone known as one's mind. Every once in a while He will ask what are you thinking and one tells him. The whole crazy convoluted thing... it's like a maze without hedges. And after all these years He still asks... hmmm... maybe he is more masochistic than he lets on. Anyway one digresses... again.

See round here it is equally one's responsibility to speak up if the relationship is heading off the rails. Now He may agree or disagree... that's where his responsibility comes in. So after four days of someone living in their cave exploring the world of Skyrim, and yet another meal eaten alone one did point out that maybe we needed to consider some ground rules for our holiday together. Simple things like dinner... together... and maybe a little sex thrown in for good measure.

He agreed one might have had a point. So hopefully we will get back on track and actually spend some time together... not in separate rooms as is often our want. And you lucky readers might end up with something to see other than widow status updates. No promises though... Skyrim is like a black hole J

Hard line

2012-02-08T13:13:00.000-08:00

In the group at the moment there is a debate going on as to whether leasing is the same as owning. Unfortunately it is laid over someone's personal grief, but often debates get started over the strangest of issues and where people least expect them. People are wondering why we are being so mean about the whole thing. Well here is why... for those who are genuinely interested.

The group was formed for those in co-habiting O/p relationships. Long term can't/ won't leave relationships in which people often do some serious rewiring of their properties psyche. Now we have tried to keep the group open to those who are genuinely interested, working on it, have tripped and fallen down the hole and those who have been there. What we were never designed for was those who fell down it and now want to call it something else that fits in with their circumstances.

See there is a hell of a difference between owning something and leasing it. Well there is in this country at any rate. Here when you lease something you can call it yours and treat is like it is, but there are things you can't do. You can't rip out walls, rewire the place to make room for your new fan, hang pictures on the walls, change the colour scheme or decide you want to concrete over the lawn. Well you can, but there is going to be horrible financial repercussions if you do. The bottom line is you can call it yours, but it is a lease and as we much we like to think of them as being the same, they are not and never will be the same thing.

Now when you own something you have a lot more latitude... within the building regulations. He has done some serious renovating, including rewiring whole sections and making changes that are probably quite irreversible. It has been done because for a number of reasons most of them aesthetic to him. And He has been able to do it because he owns one small slave's arse.

Of course people are looking at this and going, but what if this happens to me? What if my relationship crumbles and falls?

Well just so we are clear, you will be former owners and property. We as a group will still support you, love you, hang out with you and try to help in any way we can. What we won't do is change the group description to include your rebranding of your relationship. Still think we are big meany pants for doing this?

Consider this...

There are lots of groups for TNG's usually under 35. Now people found and join those groups and never give a moments thought to what happens when they turn 35. Having watched them though, one can tell you exactly what happens. They get removed, no matter what or how long they have contributed. It is nearly always ugly... it is a bit like leaving the church one imagines. It means the person loses a part of their identity and it is bad enough that many move on to other groups of ex TNGers, often sounding as bitter as they feel.

We don't do that to group members, but we do ask that you don't try and rebrand your relationship and expect us to smile and move over to include it. You are in an O/p relationship that failed... it's that simple and that complicated. Don't try and tell us it was a leasing arrangement in a group that is about being owned. It's just not going to happen because that is not what we discuss.

Day two

2012-02-07T12:05:00.000-08:00

Major achievements:

He came to bed about 6am... those werewolf hunters are even more persistent than the frost trolls
Went to the gym
Had a snooze
Poked around at some chores that have been put off for far too long
Going to do an itinerary so we actually do some of the things we are talking about... markets, a couple of day trips...

See one is keeping a record of this because at the end of every holiday you wonder how you managed to waste it. This way there will be no doubt...

Day one

2012-02-06T12:41:00.000-08:00

Major achievements:

Two meals
A three hour snooze
Consulted with His mother over colour choices for a quilting project of hers
He killed some snow troll or something. Sorry, frost troll rolls eyes

In really exciting news the collar is off and He is talking about getting one of these. Hopefully it will weigh a little less than the current one 'cos over the years that little puppy has literally worn a groove in the neck... like a ring does on a finger. A thing which might one add just makes Him smile and quip something about better than a mark L

Ice-cream, you scream, we all...

2012-02-05T13:00:00.000-08:00

Tonight is the first night of our holidays together. We have plans... let's watch them go down in flames together shall we? Already the first opening salvo has been sounded as one is getting dragged into work for four hours on Wednesday... but let's not go there just yet. No, let us instead revel in that feeling of freedom that the last shift for a fortnight can bring.

It's the kind of feeling that makes you want to celebrate with something naughty... and finding nothing quite fitting one settled for some of the fabulous Maggie Beer Dark Chocolate and Orange ice-cream one is currently enamoured with. So clutching the remains of a small tub one scampered over to join Him on the couch... politely asking in an approved manner to sit down... by which one means stark naked. Looking not at one's naked form but at the tub He asked where's mine?

You don't have any... and there isn't enough to share. Besides if one does then all it will do is give you a taste for it. That's not a kindness one said in a smug and slightly sanctimonious tone.

As one nibbled through the dark chocolaty richness He cuddled close... an arm reaching round ones shoulder.

Don't you go threatening the ice-cream like that... one knows what you are up to.

He smiled innocently... crinkling the edges of those bright blue eyes.

As one reluctantly finished the last morsel and popped the empty tub on the bench behind the couch He hauled one over his knee. Where He proceeded to wallop one's arse with a great deal of enthusiasm as one tried to wriggle away.

Finally let upright one shot that was for eating the ice-cream in front of you wasn't it?

No, that was because I could and it gave me pleasure.

You know He is pettier than he lets on... Scorpio

Being unfaithful

2012-02-04T13:30:00.000-08:00

As some of you know one really doesn't function first thing without coffee. Actually that is a massive understatement... we are talking crawling to the edge of awareness here. And one isn't proud... there have been times when it is literally hot water swirled around the nearly empty coffee jar. It was desperate times calling for desperate measures.

Now as many of you know there is an ally in this need in the form of morning mouse. But lately there has been someone new... someone blue and fabulous. Someone given to one small slave by Him for Christmas... and might one add she is less inclined to judge this need than he is. So without further ado let one introduce you to the new love of one's life...

Though it is worth noting that one has always loved her... just this one contains coffee J

The clique

2012-02-03T12:49:00.000-08:00

Over the years the group has often been accused of being a clique. And one is the first to say yes we are. The thing is though people often seem to forget that the word clique is sometimes not only used incorrectly, but that it isn't necessarily a bad thing. See a clique is as good or bad as its leader.

Under MT's leadership the group has definitely become a much mellower place than it once was. Hell for that matter the Wild West has become mellower. The group when it started out was a rough place where the sharpest tongue won. And people used to come in just to take on the sharpest one around. But just as the Wild West gave way to cities she slowly, but surely, civilised us J

The way Fet was set up there was no way to remove people and the care bears were often more of a hindrance than a help... bless them they were out of their depth more often than not in that group. They really couldn't understand why we couldn't all get along... we were just kinksters having fun weren't we. Umm.... no. No, we were not. And for the record waking up to find whole threads removed because some bloody kinkster had got their knickers in a knot over something that we had said wasn't fun at all. But one digresses... back to cliques.

We, as a group, do have certain features of a clique. There is a queen bee; MT, her sidekick; N (her daughter dubbed him so), bankers... those that collect information and secrets... err a group full of INTJ's... it's what we do, floaters (most of the members 'cos we don't force them to be faithful or monogamous) and the targets. Now that last one is the interesting one... and that is the one most worthy of closer examination. See normally a clique, one that is poorly led in particular, targets outsiders. They actively go after them.

Now we might exclude people, but we rarely go after them. In fact the only time we as a group have ever gone after anyone, was when they have insisted on ignoring our boundaries in the group. Usually after we have spanked them we just toss them out the door. Occasionally the odd group member, not the group, carries on nailing their arses to the ground outside of our borders... some of our group have warped senses of humour. The rest of us have no dog in the fight... we literally don't think they are worth the energy nor do we care enough to do it.

So while one has no issue with describing us as a clique, one would have to say we are a fairly benign one. We're just not warm and fuzzy... and we have a zero tolerance for stupid. Actually we also have zero tolerance for armchair pontificators, people telling us we are wrong and dangerous, people who come in to defend someone's honour when they have had a run in with someone from the group, people who tell us we are a bad example to newbies, people who tell us we are fantasists, people informing us we are going to be amputated along with the boiled kittehs and those who have obviously mistaken us for people they can change... oh and sections of the Gorean community. Other than that we are pretty much live and let live J

The comedian

2012-02-02T12:24:00.001-08:00

His face loomed in the shower doorway, as one got ready for work.

Going to the gym He quipped.

No.

Oh, so this won't be a problem...

You all know what happened next... some of you better than others.

He is not as funny as he thinks L

Hard limit

2012-02-01T14:10:00.000-08:00

When we first got together He presented one with a BDSM checklist to mark off what one was interested in and well frankly... had no desire to ever try. Of course we mainly started with the latter (unless He had no desire to try it) because how would one know if one didn't want to do them, if one didn't actually try some of them? Besides He knew the things one liked. And that people is the kind of logic one deals with... daily L

Over the years the odd thing has been added to that list... one of them is Him coming in one's arse before one scampers off to the gym. The reasons are fairly self explanatory... we are going to pretend they are OK? Now today was a strange day, bisected by a late hairdressing appointment that meant one had to go to the gym early rather than when He goes to bed. It was also a hot day and all the scampering round trying to fit everything in led one to the shower.

Needless to say He got one in there...

You know there was a time where one considered the shower a refuge. It was where one went to think, cry, be bad tempered and generally unwind. Now one thinks of it as a second bedroom. There is as much sex going on in there, especially during summer when it is so hot, as there is in any other room.

As usual one found oneself mashed up against the cool tiles as He forced his way into his favourite hole.

Afterwards one spent some quality time with an assortment of bus time tables, trying to find the best way to squeeze in the gym and still get another shower in before going to the hairdressers. Whichever way it was done it was going to be a tight fit. In the end one selected the way that gave us more time together...

This is where He came along and grabbed one's hand, carting one off to the bedroom with a cheerful I thought you might like to cum.

That was how one ended up with a screaming orgasm and an arse full of cum... right before going to the gym. Dammit there is a reason one tries to avoid that. It's not meant to be some sort of hurdle for Him to barge through... where's that red flag when you need it?

He is the best

2012-01-31T13:37:00.000-08:00

This morning one woke up with the lingering effects of a shocking migraine that started last night. In fact one probably looked quite pathetic, as one huddled near the computer clutching coffee. A state that may have prompted Him to ask are you still planning on getting new running shoes? For a minute there one did contemplate snapping no, the shoe fairies came and fixed the sole compression, and the bald spot... hey pain doesn't bring out the best in anyone... well not that kind of pain. Instead one nodded in the affirmative.

Well (insert sporting shop here) are having a sale tonight and if you like we will swing by there and get you some. The heart did a little flutter at the prospect... until one remembered that sports shoes are rather dreary things. Except for that time the preferred brand and style produced that salmon pink colour... now there was a shoe to make you shudder... and it did. Every time one dragged them on, a little part of one died inside... mainly in shame and horror at having to go out in them.

So plans were made... gym, grocery shopping, lunch, snooze (which everyone knows is code for sex) and go out on our merry way to RPG night via shoes.

Of course the reality looked a little different...

First work called... while we were grocery shopping... trying to persuade Him to come in. An offer He declined... well more gave them an option they couldn't make work at any rate. We had lunch and a shower, and one of us scampered off to the air-coned bedroom all lubed and ready to go... and waited and waited and fell asleep. In fact by the time He made it to bed it was time to get up. That was when we found our hostess was also fighting a migraine... we commiserated quietly for a few minutes... before cancelling the evening.

Off we scampered to go shoe shopping... which is where some surprises were in store for us. First off His preferred brand and style was no longer available in the flame colour way He had been hemming and hawing over... it was now in the brightest, most lurid acid green. They are so awesome in an Incredible Hulk kinda way. The colour made Him hem and haw even more than the flame ones did, but for a different reason... in fact one had time to go and find a new pair of gloves.

Personally the shoe company stuck one small slave with lavender, grey and white. Why is it the only shoe company who produces a model to fit a woman with high arches and a broad foot insist on sticking to safe colours? Who chooses these crappy colours and thinks women will like them? Peers at His with an almost palatable envy. We finally made it to the checkout to find that the lavender monstrosities were no longer $239 less 20%, but a very agreeable $169. One of us is a very happy camper indeed.

So here we are very happy, apart from the migraine which is trying to make another run at one of us, proud owners of new sports shoes in colours neither of us like... well one really likes His... mollified by discounts. See happiness is a relative state...

And He might have completely forgotten about one in favour of some game he is playing... have no idea what time he came to bed after all of this...but he took one shoe shopping... at a sale... for sports shoes. Seriously, who could ask for more? J

A sweetheart deal

2012-01-30T13:40:00.000-08:00

For a while now He has been eyeing off some Twisted Monk rope. The company does hemp rope in a variety of colours including a colour of the month. They also have an extensive choice of kits, thicknesses, colour ways and ends. If you have some time, check out their tutorials that cover everything from care of the rope to how to stow it.

The trouble is with buying online is that you never know quite what kind of quality you are getting... it is a bit of a punt when you order from people for the first time. Anyway The Stockroom is having a Valentine's Day Sale on a Twisted Monk rope kit at a very attractive price. It is a starter kit containing 2x 10', 1x 30' and a pair of safety shears. They have a choice of colours black, natural and red.

So He ordered a little of each... figuring if he liked it he could buy more...

Well it arrived today and it is beautiful rope. Hemp can be coarse unless it has been properly treated, but this rope is soft and silky. It also smells divine as it hangs in the study, a heady mixture of dyes, oils and natural fibres J

The only thing that is a little disappointing is the colour quality of the pictures on both of their sites. The natural is a deeper shade of olive, rather closer to a dried herb colour. And the red is a divine shade of blood red... the colour it starts to go as it dries. Having said that, colours like red and purple are the devils own to photograph and reproduce. We have no end of trouble with those two colours... for an assortment of reasons J

More conversations down the hole

2012-01-29T13:23:00.000-08:00

You know, one said conversationally as He drove along, it is a constant source of amazement who reads the blog.

Hmmm?

Well most of the people who come to the blog are happy little anal pervs... which is to be expected... and the rest are slaves who seem to loathe and hate anal. They use it as a learning tool for what not to do, as far as one can tell. Sort of a oh hell no list if you will.

It's because most of them are masochists He replied, as though it was the most reasonable explanation.

Well if they like to be hurt, you would think they would be a bit more pro anal J

If the collar doesn't fit...

2012-01-28T12:48:00.000-08:00

As one has mentioned before the trouble with exercise is that it makes you change shape. The trouble with the current programme is that it is heavy on shoulder work... it was done that way because they needed to get strong enough to provide support during abdominal work. Unfortunately because of the PCOS that little bit of extra male hormone in the body means that one can bulk up... a rare thing for a girl... and very quickly too.

None of this was a problem when one was going to the gym four days a week. The programme was designed to be heavy lifting one day, strip down programme the next. It was gruelling, but it prevented the muscles from growing and getting bulky. Now because of some seasonal variations to work shifts, one can only get in three times and it has ended up not back to back. The end result is growth... and a corking rate of it too. In the past few weeks since going back one is starting to get shoulders a first XV player would be proud of...

There is just one tiny little problem. With those shoulders comes the neck to join it all up and the collar is trying to choke one out in the night. It wraps its little metal hands around the throat and constricts it with all its might. Every time one moves or turns the head... there it is. And you know something? It doesn't make one think of Him at all... well not nice thoughts at any rate.

So one dutifully submitted the complaints to be informed that as it was one's own doing, it was up to one to pay for the new collar...

First off let one just say that this is the reason one doesn't get expensive collars... this will be the third one to date. Yeah not quite that romantic image of collared for life is it? Of course not being one to miss a chink, the fence did need to be tested a little...

So if one buys it then it won't be your collar and if that is the case... then one could elect to not wear it surely?

No, it would be mine, but you would have paid for it. And you will be wearing it.

Hmm... not quite the answer one was going for...

Discussing this with Him this evening one suggested going back to the gym on Tuesday/ Wednesday and Friday. That way it should strip down some of this muscle... 'cos the collar is driving one nuts... and to be honest one really doesn't want to play rugby.

Turning He said, but I was hoping that you were going to get enough upper body strength that you could take up pole dancing. I thought the pole could go there... indicating near the enormous windows that make the place like a goldfish bowl, hence blinds permanently down... and I could sit here while you entertain me.

That's it, starting next week... Tuesday/Wednesday it is. Honestly if He can't make sensible decisions then...

Flying

2012-01-27T12:26:00.000-08:00

The rain started again with a vengeance at 2am... by the time one got up some of the lower roads were flooded already and making a critical decision one called work. The trouble is that if they close the road, like the other night, one has no way of getting home by public transport and there isn't so much as a motel in that area. So the day was spent doing other things...

Though He was a little miffed that one was going to get an extra day off...

After breakfast one was carted off to bed and somewhere in there He amused himself with one of the many floggers. See the trouble with collectors is that they are a compulsive breed. It doesn't matter what it is, collectors can't help themselves... though some do hone it down to a highly specialised area... the compulsion usually manifests itself in more areas than one. In His case floggers seem to be breeding at the same alarming rate as music, books, DVDs and games do.

This time we did try it a different way... when aroused, masturbating and with endorphin levels flying... along with the flogger. In fact we even managed to grab a pic when He was just done. And that people is as pink as it gets... by the time one writes this it will all be gone L In some ways it is so sad... all that flogging and so little to show for it...

The memories of how it felt as it thumped across the skin, of how it caressed and contoured around in that rhythmic beat will linger for a little longer. And so too will the incredible orgasm with Him buried in one's arse...

But as with all things it will fade...

If only because at some stage the endorphins will stop flying and one will come back to the ground with a crashing, burning thud.

Think lunch and a visit to the gym are in order...

Australia Day

2012-01-26T13:04:00.000-08:00

Today was that most beloved of days... a public holiday. And true to the tradition most people had plans, including one small slave. The rain had stopped long enough to allow some laundry, there was plans to blitz the place, cook dishes for the freezer while it was cool, find homes for things that have made special places on their own... it was a long list. It all depended on two things... the continuing cool weather and Him being asleep in readiness to go to work tonight.

Yeah you can almost see where this is going can't you...

First He arrives home as says I have a treat for you. Now the first thing one did was listen for promising rustling sounds... there weren't any. Next one looked for odd little bulges... odd as in different people... minds up. Seeing nothing of real interest one started to lose any interest at all. Realising He was losing his audience he announced, I'm pulling a sickie so I can spend the day with you.

The next thing to go not according to plan was the weather. Oh it stopped raining... and settled for humidity in the very high 80's. Standing still you sweated... doing things... water just gushed out of every pore. So after doing what had to be done, and rearranging the order of everything else, one retreated to the shower. Of course He got one in there... but to be honest it was worth it to not be in the sauna that is our climate at this time of the year.

So having pressed one into the tiles and forcibly inserted himself into one's arse, all the while asking if one had missed him...

You know in the interest of transparency one did have to say not really. Seems that might not have been the right answer... how are you supposed to work this stuff out... because all that did was make Him renew his endeavours to plumb the depths of one's arse before coming in it with a shuddering orgasm.

He thought he would be helpful and lube up the enema plug, insert it and help clean one out. So after firmly inserting it He turned it on... virtually full bore.

Want to know how to make your slave jump six inches? Do that...

So after brunch we settled in to move as little as possible. Oh one pottered around and got things done... they just weren't all the things one had planned...

Such is life... no one has ever gone to their deathbed wishing they had done more house work J

Late in the evening

2012-01-25T13:53:00.000-08:00

The day was relatively uneventful... cooking, gym, a futile attempt to dry some clothes... everything is wet. Even the packet of Griffin's Gingernuts one opened last night were soft... and yes even dunked in tea they still felt wrong in the mouth. Normally those things will snap a tooth... and one has to hunt for the damn things as they are imported from New Zealand. It was not a pleasant sensation at all, though it did turn out to be prophetic L

He stumbled to the shower and one nipped in to join him... see occasionally things round here are voluntary if not terribly consensual... to wash his back. Hell one even threw in a good morning hand job. A favour He returned by pinning one up against the tiles and trying to fit his hand up one's arse. Well it felt like His hand... it may have only been most of it... all the while whispering something about preferring to cum up there. Hello... 6'... you could have stopped enjoying the hand job at any time... and everyone knows "stop that" is not a safe word... geeesh!

Later on He came in to say goodnight. Well that was the intent. What happened was He saw his favourite target, grabbed an ankle, and proceeded to spank it to a glowing colour. He has a nasty hard hand might one add. Rubbing the tender flesh one said thought you liked the poor thing. I do, it just looks better in pink.

For the record nothing looks better in pink L

Nips and snippets

2012-01-24T16:39:00.000-08:00

Anyway back to breakfast...

While He was getting up one of us scampered into the shower... yes not the safest place, but one does so love a hot shower... and he loomed in the doorway. It was at that moment one realised that all that was needed to make the shower much safer was a small L shaped plate... it was also the moment when one wondered why no one has actually made a lock for shower doors. Sharing the thought with Him he pointed out that one would have to come out eventually.

Nope... don't think so

You sure about that He asked?

Yep pretty much...

It was then that He stalked over to the sink and turned on the hot tap, causing icy water to blast from the shower head

Bastard!

So off we toddled for breakfast and grocery shopping, with just enough time to get back for a routine dental appointment. We did pause in our grocery shopping to visit a bottle shop for some supplies. It was where we found this... well how could you resist a bottle to try? As it turned out it was like a trip back to one's childhood as it tasted remarkably similar to the Lion Bitter one grew up with. Of course being British the family served it at room temperature... mind you in New Zealand it is hardly warm... and here we serve all beer icy cold.

It is worth noting at this point that it has been raining for a couple of days now... the heavy torrential kind that you get in a sub-tropical climate. By the time we left the dental appointment a storm front had moved in and one got a chance to take a quick snap of something very rare...

That people is surf. Well what passes for it round here, which is why having a Surf Life Saving Club is a bit of a giggle. The reason for the odd state is the island off the coast... the one you can't see due to the rain coming down so heavily that it is completely obscured.

And this is why the rest of the evening went a little cock eyed...

See it was roleplaying night so off we dutifully scampered in the storm to go to our friends, not realising that they were closing roads all over the place due to flooding. So we had no sooner got there, nibbled snacks and settled in than the phone rang. It was her mother to say the roads were being closed. And there we were...

Needless to say we hit the road pretty damn fast for a very hairy drive home.

And that was how we found ourselves home on a Tuesday night with a bored and restless Him.

So we are snuggled on the couch and His restless hands find those damn paddles from Histora... yeah one does so owe you two for those...

And that is how one found oneself being experimented on with "just a playful swat... to see what they feel like".

Here to tell you exactly how they feel...

Fucking painful is how they feel

Now if you will excuse one small slave there is some housework that needs to be done... homes found for things and all that...

Bright and early

2012-01-24T13:41:00.000-08:00

Well it was certainly early at any rate. At 4.15am we were awoken by loud shouts and scraping noises... we lay there stunned and disbelieving. Then cursed the road crews that we assumed were responsible, yet again, for the god awful racket. Stumbling to the bathroom one noticed the inside of the flat looked like an 80's disco. The noise was deafening and the walls and surfaces danced with lights... it was a horrible flash back moment... particularly sober. Coming back to bed one peered out of the window to spy the cause of all the commotion.

There, stuck on the roundabout, was an enormous house. Yes people, a house. See here many of our Queenslanders are built on stumps. It allows air to circulate under them and makes them infinitely movable. So when someone decides they want to build something modern, they usually sell the house and it gets popped on the back of a truck, sometimes in two pieces, and transported to a yard awaiting a new block. The trouble is round here, as one has mentioned before, the roads are narrow in places... and it was a big house.

So one lay there, after slamming the window shut, secure in the knowledge that if they had got stuck on our roundabout, then they were going to have even more issues with the one a little further along... it has a shop with an awning. Sure enough one could soon hear the sound of metal clanging on metal... one assumes it was the men removing the street signs to give them enough room to move.

He gave up and got up... one of us is made of sterner stuff and went back to sleep. Actually it was nearly 9.00am before one emerged... well more stumbled... out of bed. Oh in time for brunch are we He quipped from the study. Don't be a hater one retorted. Wandering in clutching mouse... actually it was Tigger doing Count Dracula impersonations... one asked to use the computer to post on the blog... rather late and tardy. He relinquished it with minimal fuss... normally one has to do all sorts of debasing acts to get it. I'm going back to bed He announced. Wake me at a reasonable time... we might go out for breakfast.

This is a very promising morning indeed... though one is left to ponder is a reasonable time indicated by hunger... 'cos one is starting to feel a little peckish J

Of course all this promise took a left turn later on in the day... but more on that later... with pics J

Reprieved

2012-01-23T15:15:00.000-08:00

We had such plans for today... well He did. The other one of us wanted to eat several meals and go to the gym. His plans coincided in that looking glass kinda way.... he was all for food and the gym, just for different reasons. See He wanted to try out nasty whappy things on one's arse while the blood was thin and flowing L

Of course what happened was we woke up to find the world dark and grey and pissing down with rain. A state that makes neither of us particularly energetic, in fact we both felt like we were crawling in slow motion. It was a state that in ones small slaves case was aided by the fact one simply hadn't eaten enough yesterday. Needless to say we started with breakfast... well a couple of them in the case of one's self.

Then He offered a day of sloth on the couch, cuddled up with some TV shows we needed to catch up on... a little late lunch and then gym. It was an offer too good to pass up on... particularly to a girl on her second cup of morning mouse... which was proving slow to work. Anyway, we played hooky together on the couch with His and her nests, while the rain swept across the sky in torrential gales. It was incredibly slothful and it made one feel so sinful.

Eventually one could resist the lure of the gym no more, even though the thought of nasty whappy things was not filling one with a thrill of girly anticipation at all. It felt more like being punished for being good. In fact as an incentive scheme it completely sucked... and then life stepped in. He started to get sick. Yes smug, relieved gloating is a bad thing... honest one does get that, but as one has no hope of ever getting the good slave trophy...

So leaving Him one scampered off to the gym for a couple of sweat drenched hours followed by lolling around in the sauna. When He picked one up he was an unfortunate shade, though not as green as when one left him. Nevertheless it was a quiet and uneventful night... safe is the word that comes to mind. Maybe upset tummies are the patron saint of slaves...

Target practise

2012-01-22T14:28:00.000-08:00

Large chunks of this week have been spent contemplating the concept of friends and what that means for others. It all stemmed from a conversation on Tuesday night with our vanillas (who for the record aren't quite as vanilla as the term might imply... but that is a tale for another time) and little incidents during the last month. Today is an extension of that idea, but this is devoted to the bus tossers in our midst. We all have them on friends lists; those with unexpressed sadistic needs that find an outlet in friendship.

Let us consider an incident this week and the outcome shall we?

A picture is posted on Fet and you admire it, suggesting that symmetry might be better for next time. In turn they send a proposal for a red handprint competition to your owner. Hell they even turn it into an event that is slated for March so everyone can have a go. Yes that is right... in March several people are taking part in the 2012 Tushie Handprint Competition.

Now some of you are smiling... one can feel it through the computer screen... but there is a problem with this. Yes other than the fact that it is going to hurt like hell. See one small slave doesn't mark very much at all. It goes a promising shade of pink and then fades into obscurity.

The trouble is though that He is Scorpio... very Scorpio. They are competitive by instinct and add to that middle child syndrome... this is not going to go very well. In fact it is going poorly already. See He, like all twoo athletes, is in training and one small slave's arse is the target.

So far this week He has come at the poor defenceless little thing from every angle and combination. Every time one goes past out snakes His hand to deliver a stinging blow. Actually He's experimented a little as well... Thursday there was his belt... and it hasn't stopped there. Tonight there was a bite good night... that fucking thing hurt for the record... and left no mark L

The upshot of this... one small slave needs some nice friends. Now admittedly one has no idea what to do with them. And He reckons that one will get bored with them. But dammit one is willing to try. Anything has to be better than living in fear of the hand like this...

The other side

2012-01-21T13:16:00.000-08:00

Every once in awhile we lose a member of our rag tagged travelling troop. Some don't make it from one board to the next. Others just disappear from public view preferring to keep in touch only with close friends. Some just sink back into the ether. It is like they never were.

You see their profiles and blogs as mute testament to their existence, but they are gone.

Sometimes they come back, but most never do. And you are left not knowing what became of them.

It is one of the hardest things to accept...

You always wonder what ever happened to...

See!

2012-01-20T12:24:00.000-08:00

Proof that He is what one says...

*Though it is worth pointing out that we both verbal and threaten the cat... but it starts it.

What's going on?

2012-01-19T12:39:00.000-08:00

There is an ongoing bit of drama on Fet at the moment... well there usually is, but this is mainly over that little club. In fact it is causing people to be removed from friends lists and others to be blocked. And although for some it is old hat it is still fascinating to a people watcher, mainly because of how the events are being interpreted by different people. See for some it is quite simple and for others... not so much.

To the simple camp it is about their house, their rules. This is a fine attitude to take... nice, clean and simplistic. Of course like all things simplistic it tends to overlook a couple of things. To paraphrase someone; you can't run a social club like a dictatorship. Well you can, but people are going to get unhappy. And it overlooks that the people who are on the receiving end are their friends.

Which brings us to an interesting point... what is a friend on a social networking site? Is it people you know in real time or is it people you have hung out with, argued with, disagreed with and giggled with... sometimes for years? See how you regard people on your friends list is going to dictate how you respond to the perceived unkindness of others. If you regard them like you would a friend in real life, then the chances are you will stand up for them, go to bat for them, tell them they are being stupid... to their face... and generally do those things you do for a friend.

Now if you just like hanging out with them online... then that is a different story altogether. Then you are far more likely to adopt the attitude of well... it's just drama. It will blow over... meh not getting involved. See very simple...

Until they come for you...

Then it gets a little harder to ignore.

Sinful

2012-01-18T14:30:00.000-08:00

Today the little bus friend dropped off a Christmas present for one small slave. It was a batch of homemade chocolate biscuits. They are quite simply to die for... moist, crumbly, decadently chocolaty and rich beyond belief. Of course the two one had probably undid the last two hours in the gym... but oh gods they are so freaking good.

Good enough to reinforce the friendship bond for at least another two months... if not more.

See everyone has a different way of defining friends... and what they mean to them. For some it is a willingness to stand side by side against the world... or at least the person who has pissed one of you off. Oh don't get one wrong... one absolutely expects that, but there is more. See in one small slave's books the ultimate criteria is would they bring you a meal if you needed it. To be blunt one defines friendship as a very food centric thing... Freud would have had a field day with one small slave J

So one sits here hunting down the last crumbs, with the smell of rich coco and butter lingering on the fingertips... secure in the knowledge that there is still a whole box of them in the cupboard. And best of all He won't want one, as she makes the moist kind he doesn't like.

It almost makes up for the njoy being back in place L

Make 'em Sqweel

2012-01-17T13:54:00.000-08:00

In amongst all the nasty shit that arrived from America was this...

Now we had seen it in our travels and fondled it, and thought it might be interesting, so He threw it in the last shipment. Which is why one is now sitting here covered in water based lube and cum, with sore lungs, a really sore nipple and nibbling ice-cream as one types. How one got here is an entertaining story...

See it started innocently enough... scampering off to bed clutching the Sqweel. It was at that moment that He reminded one that some lube was recommended. That was a suggestion that ended with a five minute hunt for a non silicone based lube. Honestly one should do a review of lubes... there are that many of them lying around here, but one digresses... back to the Sqweel.

The implement:

A hand held device that has a wheel of soft little silicone tongues
Can be used with the tongues facing up or down

The pros:

Fits in the hand quite nicely
Comes apart easily for cleaning
Other wheels available
Unlike a regular vibrator your whole hand doesn't end up vibrating

The cons:

Not as quiet as they would have you believe... on full speed it sounds like an electric beater
A bit gentle for one's personal taste, but some may love it for that very reason

So there one is liberally covered in lube... including parts of the anatomy that one thinks didn't actually need to be lubed... that water based stuff travels. Whispers... everywhere L Anyway there are all these little tongues flicking around merrily and feeling quite pleasant might one add. And then He came along and started to do really painful things to the nipple that was heavily abused the other night. Painful enough might one add that no Sweel was going to overcome the distraction... which was when it was tossed aside to fend for itself. Actually that was when it got its own back by spreading that damn lube all over the sheet like a slick... something that become relevant later.

Anyway in spite of Him one did manage to cum, while begging him to please stop hurting... a thing he completely ignored. Which is why after the orgasm and the feeling came back, one was huddled in a foetal position uttering expletives... something one has an almost inexhaustible list of... as He lay there looking smug. It was then that He pounced... and triggered that unfortunate little bit of programming. And that gentle reader is why the lungs are sore... no matter how fit you get, that scaring remains just waiting for an opportunity to make you bark like a dog.

He of course decided that it was a shame to waste a hard on and that was how one found oneself propped up on all fours being brutalised, in between coughing... something he swears feels great L It was also how one ended up covered in lube because that Sqweel left it everywhere...

So yes... the Sqweel. It performed quite well given the circumstances. It feels a lot better than some vibrators, and is a pleasantly different sensation. In fact one might even try it again... perhaps under better circumstances J

Aches and pains

2012-01-16T14:13:00.000-08:00

The day started out without much promise... really early in other words. Refusing to give in one popped on the TV and drowsed for about an hour before falling into a deep sleep, lulled by the sound of gusting, torrential rain. In fact it was about 8.30 when the eyelids reluctantly cranked open again. So one shuffled out to the bathroom to make an unpleasant discovery... there was a very tender spot in one's anatomy...

It might have been the rough, brutal arse fucking that was delivered last night. The one that made one utter the prophetic words of shit that's going to hurt tomorrow. Why do things that feel so good at the time always come back to bite you in the arse later. It doesn't seem to matter if it is chocolate cake or sex. Always the body gets its own back L

So with lingering thoughts of abuse one finally cranked it up enough to trudge out the door to go to the gym... where one was given very explicit orders to not overdo it. Anyone witnessing that little discussion probably thought we looked like a loving couple... they couldn't feel the threatening hand on the scruff off the neck as He chatted to one small slave. Finally free from the hand of the oppressor one scampered off... to be good.

Half the fun of going to the gym is guessing what sport the older members used to play or do. Honestly it is rare to find people in the 50-60 range going to the gym without a life time of exercise habits compelling them. Usually you can tell by their bodies, how they carry themselves and the actual shape of them, what they did in a past life. A guy that one often chats to... well he did pick one of a street corner in his very sweet ride and give one a lift home one day... we actually live round the corner from each other... was in the boxing room.

As one watched he did this fabulous turtle movement... chin went down, neck disappeared into his shoulders... and one thought, ahhh ex boxer. He was showing someone a series of moves on the bag and after all these years he still has good hands. Mostly though it was fascinating watching a body slip into a stance guided purely by muscle memory... it was quite beautiful to watch. Umm... it was not perving... it was appreciation J

After that He took one to lunch, where one inhaled a rather decent burger and then he took one small and sweaty slave home for a shower. Sitting there all warm and relaxed, watching the rain skid across a slate grey sky, one realised there was a perfect place to experience all this... in bed. So scampering off to it one made a nest, colonising part of His doona, and drifted back to sleep. It was a very good day indeed J

Spelling things out

2012-01-15T14:33:00.000-08:00

We are part of that weird and freaky group that subscribe to the whole can't leave theory. Now before you get your chaps in a cinch consider a few things first...

For us not leaving means...

You bloody well stay and fight it out until you reach a resolution.

You commit to whatever changes are needed.

You grow together and if it means that one small slave gets to do shit that there is zero interest in, then that is what happens... all one has to do is adjust. Graceful is a goal, not a prerequisite.

You adjust, you adapt, you mutate.

Maybe a better phrase is won't leave, but having tried and literally been unable to do it... can't is more accurate. Now there was whole process to getting to that point... we met, we became friends... it was all we could do as we were both with other people at the time. We flirted, we danced too close to the edge, we slipped and we fell into each other. We were passion and lust and we woke up and realised life wouldn't ever be the same even if we didn't do it... so we did. We tore strips off each other, we talked... about everything, we were brutal, we flensed each other. We were forever changed.... and there was no going back to who or what we were. We bonded with each other in a strange and hinky way...

See most people get together and as the old saying goes... men go into a relationship thinking they won't change and women go into a relationship thinking they will change him. The reality is that all relationships change you... regardless of gender. The minute you start to think about another person and their wellbeing you start to change. If you think that sounds too much like compromising, then you are in for a rude surprise... there is no escaping change in a relationship.

You change, you adapt, you mutate.

The difference is that in a consensual non-consent relationship, there's that oxymoron again, He gets to dictate the direction and many of the changes to one small slave's psyche. And He doesn't have to get permission to do it. It was given at the beginning... and seeing as we are being honest it wasn't exactly informed consent either. How could it be? We had no idea where this was going to lead... hence down the rabbit hole... indeed we still don't.

Now some would argue that like many abused people, one has no way to know that one is abused. And they are right. But having lived with someone who one would describe as abusive, all one can say is that this is very different...

Maybe He is just better at it.

Maybe He is art and finesse rather than overt violence.

Maybe it doesn't matter when we are together.

See this stuff is only complicated when you try and explain it to others... we swim along just fine.

We do not advocate, recommend or promote the ideas that others do this... in fact some of our group have blatantly told people to not even think about trying it. Beside none of us are the recruiting types... far too bloody insular by inclination J

Old chestnuts

2012-01-14T14:04:00.000-08:00

Of all the great debates you can find online none are so hotly contested as the idea consensual non-consent. And quite rightly too... as an oxymoron it has to be up there with army intelligence. It is an utterly nonsensical phrase and we use it because no one can agree to anything better. This, considering most of the BDSM community (now there is another oxymoron) can't actually agree on almost anything, shouldn't be such a surprise.

It is a bit like the idea of not able to leave... it has no universal meaning and very different nuances. For us it means that one has been utterly brainwashed into believing that there isn't anything that can't be worked out. And considering that one has a long history as a complete commitmentphobe and serial leaver is a spectacular bit of brainwashing. And there is another one of those little buzz words that seems to get peoples latex chaps in a complete lather... contemplate that visual for a minute...

Either way though those ideas all end in one place... the great amputation debate. And it always gets ugly. On one side you have people who are usually in long term relationships saying yeah it works for us and has done for X years. On the other hand you have someone who is either young, old, disillusioned, unowned, weekend warrior, fanatical defender of their way... or some combination of the options. You never find these debates happening amongst those who are just getting on with it to the best of their abilities at the time. Strange that...

And there is a reason for that gentle reader....

No one has ever gone into a relationship thinking how long before s/ he amputates something. Now historically some perhaps should have, but you don't. Nor do you go into one thinking, but they might... and if you do then maybe you need to reconsider... before moving in might one add. No you go into any relationship thinking this is the one... or at least... this might work.

All those horror stories are the department of your friends and relatives. They are the ones who look at your partner and go... WTF are they thinking? The person has axe wielding murderer written all over them. Now in most cases they are wrong... not always, but mostly. What has happened is their emotional filters perceive this change to your life as a bad thing and subsequently that colours your intended the same way.

The more one reads the great limb chopping debates, the more one is starting to suspect something similar happens with people when their ideas of how relationships are done are challenged. They feel threatened and react just like your friends do. Only it is magnified because in real life people generally keep those sorts of thoughts to themselves, and on the net they don't have to. It's not like they are actually going to lose anything... well nothing real at any rate. So all that hysteria they are feeling comes out in the deafening cry of but... what if s/ he (insert horror story/ imaginary what if scenario of choice here).

And they wonder why we can't hear them...

Casting a vote

2012-01-13T12:24:00.000-08:00

For more years than one cares to remember there have been TV ads for a brand of fly spray... these days it includes also includes crawling insects... that have revolved around a rather repellent character named Louie the Fly. It even has a rather catchy jingle that most Australians could probably sing better than they could the national anthem... which says a lot 'cos most people think that Waltzing Matilda is the national anthem... but one digresses. Back to the damn fly...

For a while now they have conducted a big campaign to save Louie from being retired permanently. There have also been strong accusations that the whole thing was a cynical hoax on the part of the advertisers... quelle surprise. Meanwhile as the media storm... that would generally make any advertiser salivate just thinking about... carries on viewers have been made to make the hard choice. They have had to log on and vote yes or no on his death.

And all one could think when watching this was, why isn't there an option for don't care?

Well for those that do, Louie was given a reprieve today. Guess it wasn't such a black Friday for some after all...

Personally one came home and found this on the computer...

Why isn't there a no option for that? L

Thy name is not Doctor

2012-01-12T12:27:00.000-08:00

He came home this morning to find one doing a spectacular white rabbit... some mornings are just cursed like that... and offered to give one a lift. An offer one jumped at because even though the air-con has decided to pack it in once more for summer, 20 minutes with the windows open is still better than over an hour in air-conditioned bus. Beside it also meant we had nearly an hour and a half together... beams happily.

It was in the middle of this happiness that He casually mentioned that the ride was not free...

In fact immediately after breakfast one was shuffled off to bed for a "back adjustment". And He made one beg him for it... which is kind of a cheek given the circumstances. Sighs well it wasn't all bad... one did get to cum. Something that frankly one had been too scared to try since the disc went out. Well if the back could do this during bra removal; imagine what it could do during an orgasm.

So we pulled up at work, running late... it was the motif for the day really... and one hopped out of the car saying thank you for the lift.

You already have He replied.

Oh, does this mean we are even?

He drove off laughing...

Bastard!

It was worth a try...

Turning up the heat

2012-01-11T14:02:00.000-08:00

Yesterday at 7.30am it was already it is 26C (79F) with 83% humidity. And there was a man in the kitchen cooking bacon... squeeee... naked. Needless to say with an expected high of 33C (88F) that, and the Horizontal Nadu, was pretty much the highlight of that day... though it did end with anal sex.

Honestly one has a strange relationship with pain killers... most of them the body won't tolerate or they simply don't work. Usually a drink does a much better job. Knowing this He had one make a couple, drink them and then put the theory to the test. Yes that's right He did the completely irresponsible thing and loaded one up with a couple of Martinis, rather than pain killers. The back relented enough to be bent over the kitchen bench... well it was more shoved as He swept things out of the way... and again in the shower as He had his wicked way with a strangely cooperative arse. Bet it won't be so bloody obliging when that butt plug finally gets jammed back up there again L

Unfortunately this morning did not start out so auspiciously. Nor did it end so well. No this morning started with similar temperatures, a blinding migraine and nausea so bad one had to forgo morning mouse and take anti-nausea medication. Then wait for that to work before one could actually take the migraine meds. It was 10am before one could actually smell morning mouse and not gag... well too much.

But the back seems to be on the mend. It allowed one to do a few domestic jobs... though not as many as actually need to be done. One can now sit in this chair and type without needing pain killers to do it.

Yep things are looking up...

He of course is convinced it is all his doing...

Position #3

2012-01-10T15:34:00.000-08:00

This is the Horizontal Nadu...

It allows complete comfort for the lower back while enabling one to colonise as much of the bed as possible J

Small successes

2012-01-09T13:02:00.000-08:00

Before you get excited at the prospect of being returned to normal viewing on here... don't. The back has not miraculously healed and one small slave is currently the most boring creature on earth. Hell even the cat is steering clear... cats don't do boredom. No the most exciting event thus far is that today one found a position that was comfortable and didn't require drugs to achieve it, and snoozed soundly, waking only to find a better show to accompany that state.

Oh and Satan's little helper, the postie, has been and delivered nasty, whappy things from ~~miserable little shits~~ friends in America and a collection of toys from the Fun Factory for Him to use with his stockade... the one currently propping up a wall in the study. There are still a couple of things that are AWOL in the postal service, but one has no doubts that they will turn up L Oh and for the record one small slave did not demand any of those paddles... He forced one to make enquiries on his behalf.

Meanwhile He is amusing himself with Lego Star Wars 3 on the Wii. It seems even He elicits no joy from making one scream when it is that easy.

Actually avoiding those paddles is the silver lining in all of this...

Hmmm... wonder how long can this go on for?

The other side of the coin

2012-01-08T13:56:00.000-08:00

Now over the years there have been some spectacular encounters with "our own kind" when at work and out and about. In fact some of them have made it to the blog. The rude, the indiscrete, the slightly insane and the wrong ones have at any rate. Today one met the other kind.

People who seemed perfectly normal and capable of a conversation. A couple you wouldn't mind going out with for a drink and a chat.

There is just one tiny, little complication...

They're Gorean.

As painless as possible

2012-01-07T13:22:00.000-08:00

Well today one lingered on the lounge no longer and went to work. Before we get to that though one would just like to thank some people for making it possible...

Thank you to both Him and his mother for the lifts to and from work. The back thanks you too... from the bottom of its... well something. Not too sure what a back would thank from... anyway one digresses.

One would also like to thank a couple of the major drug companies for their contributions. Whatever people may say about your products, and the fact that many of your products have a 50% failure rate when given to the population... when it comes together your shit is awesome J

Work was pretty cruisey... that is to say one abused one's limited powers and got someone else to do the nasty stuff... like the actual manual component of the job. Personally one pottered around, chatted to people, got them to buy more than they actually wanted to and did top up orders. Which means one generated more paperwork for the manager, who had unfortunately drawn the short straw and been lumbered with working the weekend. Sighs life is good, and maybe she will think twice about guilting one into coming to work next time J

And now back to Bab5 one goes

Oh and the lounge; soft, squishy, lovely, leather lounge whom one loves so

Snack foods... there needs to be snack foods...

Limbo

2012-01-06T13:16:00.000-08:00

The day started late, very late. It is amazing what muscle relaxants and prescription pain killers can do for a girl's beauty sleep. Mind you don't look too beautiful when you wake up.... more sort of bleary and puffy and in so much pain you are doubled over. The thing is you can't stay that way otherwise you sort of lock into position. See all those times your mother said if the wind changes you will stay looking like that was sort of right J

It is official, the disc is probably bulging... which is why one has sciatica all the way down to the ankles, on both sides, and look pregnant. Of course one had to sit in a chair for an hour to get that diagnosis. Something that one did point out to the doctor was really adding salt to a wound. He, as a bad back sufferer, laughed. You know after all these years our little interactions do nothing to change one's initial impressions that he is a sadist.

Anyway today was spent curled in a foetal position on the beloved leather lounge. Although all advice is to lie on a floor with your feet up, all that does is let the back freeze up and then one is left to do this sort of inelegant scramble. It looks for all the world like a bug trying to right itself. So one went with what didn't hurt... at all. In fact when one stood up the back almost felt normal. Right up until one went to do something... then it was short lived.

So one small slave was stayed on the lounge like a good girl... and got on with the annual Babylon 5 marathon and gently snoozed through the afternoon.

This is driving one nuts and it is only day two L

Breakfast at Tiffany's

2012-01-05T13:12:00.000-08:00

One of the great joys of the net, and Fet in particular, is the endless source of entertainment it provides when one small slave is sick and in pain. It is like having access to an unrelenting supply of movies... and one does so love old movies. Often the entertainment is not intentional, but the end result is the same. Now it should be pointed out that entertainment doesn't necessarily need to be the laughter kind. It can be the more serious, what is this bug under the microscope kind.

See group dynamics are fascinating... and so are social experiments. And Fet has an abundance of both. This is in part because of the way it is set up... it is like a boulevard of jewelry stores and you can freely gaze in the window without having to go in. And just as anyone is free to browse they are free to start a group and it can be pretty much of their own design. You don't have to jump through any hoops other than clicking a few buttons. This may account for some of the more bizarre groups that form, but that is a story for another time...

This is about a particularly interesting social experiment and how people are responding to it. One of the newest contenders to the Fet line up is a group that one finds... disturbing. And it takes a lot to disturb one small slave. You can feel the fun starting already can't you J

Now over the years people have likened our group to a clique... and one would be the first to say yes we are. We have evolved over time... way too long a period of it in one or two cases... and we do like to tuck the odd person under our wings as we travel along. We hang out online because great distances separate us and it is the only way we can stay in touch... and we kinda like each other, which is why we are still together after all these years. The downside is we are so cliquey that we often repel people... we make them feel not "one of us" at all... in fact we make them feel like the alley cat in the movie. It often causes problems for both our members and those that want to join alike... but this isn't about that.

This is about what happens when you go the other way. When you go out of your way to make people feel like "one of us". What happens when you embrace the lost, the lonely, the dispossessed and the disenfranchised, rather like Holly Go Lightly scooping up that cat, and give them shelter? Well one suspects that you have either started a church or are on the way to forming a cult.

The definitions of a cult are many and varied, but generally a cult follows certain paths. They usually have certain key features too...

A charismatic leader that has been on the outside because of their beliefs
Active recruiting
Exclusivism
Love bombing
Fear and intimidation
A reporting structure
Information control
Time control

So let's look at the processes of this new group shall we...

A person wandered the halls of Fet for some time. By all accounts this person was quite charming and yet they couldn't find their niche. They were too high protocol for most groups, didn't actually own anyone because by their own admission no one had ever come up to their exacting standards, and well frankly... they disturbed a lot of people with their rather extreme beliefs and apparent need to be worshiped.

Finally, after a failed coup in another group, they started a group for friends and set certain stipulations... everyone had to be friends and they had to be willing to contribute by joining in and starting threads. Then they encouraged them to make a lot of noise, which showed up on peoples' feeds, so that their friends would join the group. Next they added a reward system for good members by making them mods. Later on they contemplated incentives for those who manage to start threads that go past the 100 mark... no small feat in a tiny group.

They made the group exclusive... not by invite which would be sensible, but by making members prove their worth. To stay in the group they have to be an active member who follows all the rules. That is when they added some rather vague and contradictory rules... and ignored any pleas for clarity. Next they took advantage of this opportunity to add to the feelings of being part of the group by heaping praise on those special enough to get it... however vague and contradictory it might be. And then they kept tightening the friendship requirements... not just friends of friends, but friends of the mods, and then two of them, and then from before joining the group...

Then they encouraged participation by allowing people to bring in beefs and topics from other places under the guise of discussion, so long as their take was exclusively for the group... to not allow others a chance to enjoy it without being a group member. It helps with the bonding process to find commonality... even if it is a simple as oh yes saw that too. It is particularly successful if you insist people support each other. Telling people how special they are by memo and in threads helps this along... as does praising those who are doing well lavishly and holding them up for others to see. It makes the chosen people feel like they belong and are special, while making others feel like they want to be them.

Oh and of course they took time to castigate those who weren't doing it right as well J

The next thing they did was set up is a place for public executions and then conducted counselling sessions in private by memo. This is when the leader uses personal and private information that has been gleaned from previous correspondence with the people in question, to help show them the error of their ways. And they didn't miss any opportunity to change the rules on a regular basis to suit their design, and keep people guessing and a little uncomfortable.

Next they encouraged those who felt abused to come forward and report their abuser. It is important that you are seen to be dealing with those more aggressive members. And they dealt with them publicly so justice could be seen being done. Of course next they practised a little revisionist history by removing any trace of it... you don't want such nastiness in public... it's not seemly. Besides all you need is the memory of it...

After that they removed the public executions and tried to find a way of doing it privately. The small quiver of protest over this led them to start doing it quietly. People just log on to find X has left the group. The leader of the group also went noticeably quiet when people started to question that process and of course the worst offenders just disappeared. Sometime silence is not only golden, but a very effective control technique. The one thing you can't have is people questioning your authority... even if there are mods, they are but an instrument of your will... not as a protection for the members as claimed.

Oddly enough for many the time control aspect takes care of its self. In the effort to make the grade there is little time for other things and very little time to actually consider what is going on. Discussions may lack depth, but they are generated so fast that no one has time to notice. And the pumping pace extols people to try harder and think less.

Now all of this is going on and what are the members doing... oh sucking up in a way that is quite disturbing. Even those who are feeling in their heart of hearts that things are not quite right are doing nothing more than withdrawing into themselves, as they contemplate what is going wrong.

And those that are dissenting? Oh they are disappearing in the night...

So why is one small slave spending time on this bit of drama you may be wondering... apart from pain making her spectacularly grumpy? Well there are some questions that one can't figure out the answer to...

Is all this similarity to that list an accident or is it instinctive the way it seems to be with someone who goes on to batter their partner? Or worse is this a deliberate, calculated act on their part?

Why does no one in that group seem to be aware of that happy creepy vibe that is starting to emanate from it?

Why aren't the aware ones listening to that voice inside of them... 'cos we all know that while that thing is like a small, yappy dog... it has a nasty habit of being right.

Why does the need to belong so often seem to triumph over the need to ask some smart questions... like how long before I disappear?

You see questions without answers make that little dog inside of one small slave start to whimper and howl... far easier to let it out L

Day four

2012-01-04T14:12:00.000-08:00

Since the arrival of the stockade one has had a migraine... hence so much quality time on Fet. Finally today (on day three) it had cleared enough (read one could tackle morning mouse without gagging) that one decided to venture back to the gym to give the body a different type of pain to take its mind off things. Often the endorphins pumping around give the body enough of a boost that it will get rid of the last of a migraine you see. Well that was the plan.

Actually that was part of the plan. The idea was to go bounce some weights around, come home clean up the bombsite that has emerged after three days of aggravated neglect, have some wild sex, maybe a snooze and get up later on to do some cooking when it was cool enough. That was the whole plan. Of course as always reality took that slightly skewif quality that plans do around here.

Oh one made it to the gym... to be greeted by Mr Insensitive enquiring how one spent the New Year. Quietly one replied, praying for this to be the sum of our chat. Yeah for the record prayers don't get answered... or he doesn't answer the prayers of agnostics... which you would think he would do... good PR and all that. Really he said, I spent it at a rather good lifestyle party. Inwardly one groaned while replying that's nice in the most bored voice one could muster. He took the hint... that or the fact one was taking his unused weights to load onto the press made him shut up. Either way the rest of the workout progressed without conversation.

So home one scampered, feeling much better...yeah one should have seen it coming really. Hauling off wet gym gear, one undid the bra, ripped it off while still slightly bent over and stretched. The back went and one stood there semiparalysed. It's done this before... what they inaccurately describe as slipping a disc... of course the last times one followed the doctor's advice and spent the week on the floor. Not this time... according to the latest, the best thing to do is take drugs and kept moving. Which seems to work much better... though it means you can't actually lie down and the tummy pops out like a pregnant person's...

Of course it chose this moment, when one was in the middle of three loads of washing, making lunch and about to scamper into the shower, to do this. And into the middle of the chaos in stepped His mother to show us the Christmas gifts she had got from his brother... and she stubs her toe on the bloody stockade. It was on the lounge floor because one small slave had been too sick to find it a home... it was on the clean up list. Now she has studiously, thus far, managed to ignore the rack on the bedroom wall full of nasty slappy, hitty things. And the proliferation of sex toys that seem to breed in odd places. It is a little harder to ignore a stockade when you have just walked into one.

What's this...ohhhh?

It's my Christmas present He said... like that explained everything. Particularly the metal collar and cuffs attached to it. Turning with bright inquisitive eyes as one hobbled into the room she started to say...

Don't say a word one shot in the gap... the back has just gone and one can barely stand up...

Darting past she grabbed the dishes and said well I'll get these out of your way and toddled off.

Well if she didn't know we were kinky she does now He said.

Sighs family life... it is never normal around here.

Later, as one was propped up in His upright computer chair, he wandered into the study. You know He said conversationally, I'm starting to think you are actually trying to do this New Year the way you started... avoidance. Three days of migraine and now your back has gone out. There are 360 days to go... you are going to end up in that stockade on at least one of them.

He thinks he has a challenge... one small slave has three types of meat and an assortment of vegetables to prep before cooking commences. A load of washing on the line that one is a little unsure how one is going to get in. And probably an interesting chat coming up with His mother the next time we are out together L

Summer maid

2012-01-03T12:46:00.000-08:00

For some reason He thinks that house work is better when you are dressed for the occasion L Needless to say in a climate like ours that isn't the case. So when He went to America he came back with presents, a set comprising of a frilled collar and cuffs to be precise, and a pair of panties to match.

Bastard!

Why can't we get along?

2012-01-02T15:05:00.000-08:00

It is the war cry of both groups and individuals... usually when they are in a situation where they should be taking a stand. See the whole idea of getting along is a fallacy, particularly in groups on the net. Why you may be wondering is it not going to happen? Well the answer is very simple... imagine getting a group of strangers off the street, shoving them in a room and walking off saying play nice... as you leave them with no real consequences for their actions. How long do you think that is going to last before shit happens?

In some ways groups online are no different from doing just that thing... and usually with very similar results. If you look at the average board there is a huge variety of relationships, language styles and beliefs. So the first thing they do it talk in an endeavour to get to know each other. And they are all talking about stuff that is important to them and that is interesting to them. Yeah you can almost see where that one is going can't you?

Now, every once in a while someone comes along and thinks the solution to this is to start a group for friends... and boy are they the quickest way to lose them. See if you take a group of people who know someone who knows someone, the minute there is any contention you are going to have party lines forming. And sides being taken and butt hurties all over the place. Oh what you thought because you were friends it wouldn't be like that? Think again you poor, sweet, deluded fool.

It's going to be worse if the group is smaller and someone has tried to cap it in some way. When you make people compete for space... it always gets ugly. Why? Well not only are people territorial, but they want their friends in that group. Oh no space... let's start a fight to make a little room. Oh they aren't quite like us... let's kick them out... that will free up a place. Before long it is going to get brutal... rather like "Highlander". And don't think that the leadership won't be challenged frequently either; if you make a place competitive... well some people are very competitive.

What is really going to add to the pressure to a group like that is not just the friendships, but the social splits along who is owned and who isn't quite so owned. Why you may be wondering? Well you see although they all know each other and about each other, they really don't understand each other at all. They have no terms of reference. And the only way they can get them is to duke it out amongst themselves... oh and there we are, back to butt hurties again.

See ultimately the O/p crowd hang out in their own group for a reason. It is so they don't have keep having those get to know you disagreements again and again. We have a common reference point and although we all practice different styles of relationships, there are some points of commonality that we don't have to explain to each other. Silly things like we don't have hours to spend online, that our owners are the law in our households, that we aren't really going to be answering to anyone but them... the list goes on and on, but you get the idea. Usually in our group the only issues we have are with those who are not in our demographic at all. And they are always the ones who go stomping off whining the loudest when we point out to them you are not our people. Strange that... but back to friends all getting along...

Long term that pressure cooker is going to produce some other interesting side effects too... See the only way you are going to minimise the fallout is to make the group very homogenised and that has issues too. It ultimately leads to a form of fatigue... without new blood a group soon withers and dies because after a while you all know each other's positions on everything. Or worse you end up only chatting about safe things... like cooking. You see in this world there are worse things than not all getting along... and that is getting along J

The New Year

2012-01-01T13:29:00.000-08:00

As one writes this He is happily sitting amongst an enormous mound of packaging material... looking for all the world like a slightly demented pack rat... putting together his stockade. The thing is like Meccano for sadistic men. It even makes an impaler... something the site didn't mention.

In fact the only thing saving one small slave from spending the day stuck on it is the fact that it is already 25 (77) degrees with an expected high of about 30 (86).

Now they say you should start the New Year as you intend to carry on... could avoidance be in the cards? 'Cos that would be kinda peachy J

Happy New Year everyone

How building bridges always leads to...

2011-12-31T13:20:00.000-08:00

Erecting boundaries

That is what we end up doing when we poke our noses out of our electronic burrows... almost without fail. See we stick them out in the hope of finding people just like us... well alike enough that we can have the odd conversation with them at any rate. Without fail though, it always ends up more complicated than that. It is an ironic thing that in relationships such as these, one of the most important skills to learn is how to erect a boundary. Not from one's owner, but from the other people we come into contact with on public boards.

It is hard in these relationships to make friends, even ones on the net. The biggest problem is the complete lack of time to call your own. And boards are like black holes... you could probably lose hours to those things before you realise it. That lack of personal time is something that people pay lip service to... oh we understand. The thing is they don't really get it at all. In an average week one gets to spend about seven hours online... and that includes time writing the blog and helping mod the group. Everything one does online comes at the cost of something else... what one chooses to join, reply to and even the amount of conversations one has and with whom.

When you have limited time you start developing a selection criterion. Decisions to accept friends requests is often based more on how non prolific they are than how much you like them. And if they are prolific is it interesting, enlightening, confronting, growth causing... the list gests more rigorous as time goes on. Otherwise you log on and find 150 odd posts that you have to sift through to find content to spend time on. In the end you keep those who you enjoy... and oddly enough they are often the quiet ones who are that way 'cos they have bugger all time as well.

Another issue is that where ever you go on Fet, you find people happily debating how you do things as a group or as an individual relationship. It becomes an issue seeing your life constantly dissected like this because it is usually being done by those who have never actually tried it, those who want to be doing it and those for whom it didn't work. It is not that it is just annoying, which it is, but that after a while it is just exhausting. The human psyche can only take so much of being grist for the mill before it starts to retreat.

Then of course the fun really starts 'cos no one likes rejection for whatever the reason. People make the assumption that we get annoyed with them because they "can't possibly get it" and in some cases they are right... to a point. As one has said before there is a huge difference between non-cohabiting relationship and having someone in your grill morning, noon and night. Of course we are usually dubbed as the mean elitists for saying that...

What people often don't understand is that what they perceive as us rejecting them, because they are not like us, is in fact us becoming overwhelmed. The only way we can stop the sheer volume of noise is to reduce our contact with people, the outside world... and there we are again. On the outside looking in... Secure in the knowledge that it shouldn't be this bloody complicated L

Black, white and grey

2011-12-30T12:21:00.000-08:00

Curtailed

2011-12-29T12:12:00.000-08:00

That feeling of safety one mentioned the other day came to a grinding halt, with the help of the local postal service and the first of the missing unpleasant presents. As one small slave was reluctantly signing for a large parcel, He was already carting it inside looking like an excited school boy... a mean, sadistic schoolboy. Feeling less excited one wandered in to find Him happily ripping off the wrapping from the big, brown box from JT's... it seems the helpful people there had combined the shipping so their stuff all arrived together. Yeah thanks for that...

Nestled in all the packaging was not only the set of anal dilators, but an extra special item for His amusement. It seems after the outing with the Neon Wand He thought an extra pair of hands might come in useful... so this was his solution L

Dear Santa

Look one does know that one said don't bother with Christmas presents this year as you have been so generous with sex toys all year. Yeah, taking that back for next year. Next year one wants real presents... the sort that will render you unable to be generous like this ever again. Suitable gifts include jewellery (the sort that comes from an actual jewellery store), books, clothes... shoes are always an excellent choice.

Things that are not suitable are anything electrical, conductive metal, anything that can be turned into something conductive, anything that impedes flight (yes shoes do count on that one) and anything zappy, thwappy, stingy, ouchie, sharpie or unpleasant, as deemed by one small slave.

Better still just give cash... all of it.

Yours

One small and slightly put out slave

From who to what

2011-12-28T12:52:00.000-08:00

The day started with joining a friend online to watch the Dr. Who Christmas special. Yeah it probably doesn't get much geekier than that. But it was light hearted fun as we synced up our viewing and proceeded to chat about what was going on... yeah that isn't getting any less geeky is it? Seriously though, one of the nice things about technology is that distance doesn't stop you enjoying friends from all around the world... it just takes a little creativity.

We then indulged in some Christmas leftovers... where would we be without ham and turkey... for breakfast and got on with the domestic component of the day before it got too hot and we became even less inclined than we already were. Though one is a little unsure how that would be possible... mind you a couple of extra degrees can work wonders on willpower. It is worth noting that the heat didn't stop Him aggressing one small slave as we made the bed... or from making threats to sully the clean sheets. To be honest though that last one was more a last ditch effort by Him to avoid helping change them.

Mind you He got his own back in the shower... one small slave hopped in there to escape the heat and found herself pinned to the tiles while being brutally sodomised. His version of events was a little different of course... as we all know history is written by the victors. Oh, wait a minute... not here it isn't J

OK... it was a hot and steamy day. So hot in fact that one small slave ventured into the shower to cool down with a little illicit extended water usage. Suddenly out of nowhere He appeared, pulled open the door and stood there. His manliness was rampant and he advanced, forcing one into a corner as he roughly grabbed at one's hips and pulling one back against him. Bending one over He slid into that tight little orifice and proceeded to fuck it in a rough and aggressive manner... despite the squeaks of protest that were emitting from one's lips. With a final violent thrust He came deep inside and then stood there in a menacing manner until one got out of the shower leaving it free for him.

OK there might have been a makeup orgasm for one small slave later on... right before He used one like a fleshlight again. Only that time He used a slightly different orifice.... while threatening a, by that stage, rather tender breast. After He was finished one was shooed out into the warm world to go Christmas sale shopping with his mother. Seriously if the sex didn't make one feel violated, the public sure as hell did. One sits here at the close of day traumatised one tells you... traumatised!

Oh and one couldn't find a single thing at the sales... and boy are there some seriously ugly shoes left over this season.

It was a day...

2011-12-27T15:08:00.000-08:00

Mostly made up of penance unfortunately, though one does rather suspect that it is going to take more than one visit to the gym to make up for some of that food. In fact it is going to take days to work off what is currently stashed in the cupboards. For some reason His mother seems to think that popping it in our pantry is a good idea... can't imagine the logic behind that one L So while He snoozed on, in what one suspects resembled a diabetic coma more than actual sleep, one scampered off to catch a bus to the gym. It was there one found the fellow penitent... all making peace with their bodies by waging war on them.

After that He picked one up and we did the heady experience know to others as grocery shopping. For some reason none of the food stashed in our fridge and cupboards are actually comprised of... well food groups other than sugar. Mind you those mince pies probably count as fruit... in some alternate universe. And there is almond bread... that has to count as protein... again in that universe. Oh and there is marzipan... it was voted as a food by some of you J

Crap one is going to be in the gym for the rest of the year just for the contents of the cupboards alone L

Food, glorious food

2011-12-26T14:11:00.000-08:00

Today we nipped in to visit His grandmother, where in exchange for a bottle of something very alcoholic she gave us sweet things and small presents. His grandmother is as sharp as a tack in some ways, you just have to watch her at Christmas otherwise you get some very strange gifts. There was one spectacular year there where someone got a set of gaudy, glittery napkin rings shaped like butterflies. In fact it was right after that one started to buy one's own gift. It seems sensible... not to mention safer.

What you can rely on her for though is sweets and this year one got chocolate covered marzipan. Now, one could bore you insensate with an ode to that stuff, but for this one will just say that one likes it very much. Well is inordinately fond of the stuff might be closer to the truth. OK marzipan is the catnip of sweets to one small slave. The creamy, but firm texture, the sweet smell, the slightly sticky texture, the... ooops sorry blushes

Anyway after our visit there, we went to our Tuesday night vanillas for a more traditional (in this climate) Christmas time meal of ham, hot turkey, salads and hot rolls. That was followed at irregular intervals by rich chocolate cake, assorted snack food, mince pies and shortbread. All washed down with Champagne and Sauvignon Blanc from Marlborough in New Zealand. It was midnight when we tottered out of there... to drive home, crash into bed and pray that one of the bloody neighbours didn't have some new power tool they needed to try out first thing in the morning.

Mutters 'cos there is such a thing as too much sharing at Christmas L

Trifling with Christmas

2011-12-25T13:25:00.000-08:00

Well today was the day we trooped down the hall for presents... and some wonderful gifts there were. There was even a portable studio and lighting kit for one small slave (to enable better quality pics of shoes and toys). Well that was the excuse; the real reason is that like all keen hobbyists He is trying to infect one with his particular disease. Best of all though the nasty, large, painful presents are all lost in the mail for the moment. Honestly a girl has never felt so safe...

Of course that feeling was temporary... in fact there were signs of how temporary it was going to be...

It started last night when the first slice of fruitcake appeared with a tiny cow sitting atop it. OK a manger (ish) theme perhaps? It turned out that as the year had been a little hectic she hadn't used the cute decorations one picked up for her cupcakes (which for the record are divine and a thing one likes to actively encourage). Rather than waste them she decided to use them on the Christmas cake. In hindsight one should have seen it as an omen...

We meandered back later on for lunch. Now we voted against the traditional hot Christmas dinner this year. In part because after the turkey incident we were none too keen to have another repeat and because we thought something simple would be less stressful for her. That was the idea; of course the reality would indicate that nothing in this household would be that easy. In spite of the simple menu of prawns and crab salad she still managed to make a break for it round the edges...

First she had come up to see what time to get lunch ready for, which we came to an agreement on and toddled down at the appointed time to find everything was still in the fridge. Then she put on a Christmas DVD for us... and proceeded to slice the homemade bread throughout it... using an electric carving knife. Actually that one might have been a kindness... Anyway she then proceeded to bring out the food in what can only be described as an eclectic manner. That is to say bread, sea food, salads, followed by cutlery, then the actual serving utensils... well one set of them... followed by glasses and an exploding bottle of sparkling apple juice. OK that last one can happen to anybody, but one is still unsure what the bowl of gummy bears was doing on the table from the get go... they did look festive though.

We proceeded to work through lunch as she bemoaned the loss of the cooked lunch, and insist that it was really no trouble at all. Given the haphazard nature of lunch one is unconvinced by that particular assertion... but we may let her have her head next year in the name of science. In the end as we cleared the table, after convincing her that tipping the lemon and prawn infused finger bowls into the pot plants might not be a good idea, we brought out Grandma's infamous trifle. Yeah for the record all that booze mixed with dairy products was not enough to stop one being profoundly disturbed by her inclusion of blue jelly on the top of it.

As she went to get the homemade sweets to finish off the meal, He reached out for an after dinner mint... to find that they were Turkish delight. It seems she had picked up the wrong tin and as they were a good price had been reluctant to exchange them...

Maybe what one is witnessing is not the beginnings of old age taking root.

Maybe messing with peoples' food is a mother daughter thing...

It might account for why His sister made the chocolate spiders with milk chocolate this year instead of the dark kind, and why she stuck jellies on their backs turning them into red backs...

They are trying to kill Christmas... nods it's the only explanation

'Twas the day before Christmas

2011-12-24T13:47:00.000-08:00

Waking up to the sound of gentle rain one peered at the clock. It proudly claimed to be 4am. A tad early so one promptly rolled over and went back to sleep. Waking up again, this time to torrential rain and the sound of Crows squabbling, one peered once more at the clock. It still insisted that it was 4am.

Shit the fucking thing had stopped!

Scrambling out of bed one made coffee and hit the shower... with half an hour to get clean, drink coffee and shove on a uniform. Forget blessing whiskers... it was more in keeping with the sounds of the crows.

Unfortunately one made it... to spend another day in front of the perfume cabinet. Honestly all sense of smell is gone. It is the body's way of protecting itself. Though today brought out the other type of customer... the ones who only buy annually and haven't quite worked out that, in the age of aggressive amalgamation, their perfumes haven't make the cut... not to mention Christmas eve is too late to start the search.

Today one heard the litany of fragrances that were old when one was a teenager... and no there is nothing quite like them. There is a reason for that. See fragrances evoke memories... of when we were young and in love and the world was a kinder place. Actually it wasn't... but the lack of mass communication meant that we didn't hear about it every five minutes. They also hearken back to a time when we still could smell what we wore...

A bit of trivia for the readers... your sense of smell is linked to your oestrogen levels. It is why men can't smell their socks under the bed. It is also why women after a certain age pile the bloody stuff on like woollens in winter.

Now not realising that they can't actually smell perfume any longer they go with what they know. Unfortunately it comes from an age when they had a heavy musk base... which oddly enough can permeate almost any olfactory defence. Thankfully this generation has rejected most of them... though to be honest the fruity concoctions they seem to go for are not exactly an improvement.

So why was the Christmas Grinch manning the perfume you may be wondering... Well not only is one old enough to be able to remember the litany, but one is actually tactful enough to not tell people they are old enough to know better than to try and revisit their youth, let alone keep it alive.

How in fuck did that happen?

Oh that's right... old.

The eleventh hour

2011-12-23T13:02:00.000-08:00

Today was like yesterday except the desperation was just that much keener. The obstinacy was also just that much more noticeable and the name of the perfume had changed.

But all the staff had brought food to share.

And the day had started with sex and a ride to all this wonder.

So it wasn't all downhill J

The Christmas countdown

2011-12-22T13:09:00.000-08:00

The day started with awesome sex and a lift to work. It then descended into a nine and a half hour shift involving the public, as they started to scramble to do the last of their Christmas shopping. For the record if you "really wanted the Katy Perry perfume for (your) daughter" you shouldn't have left it till three days before Christmas. And standing there repeating the statement in a whinier voice isn't going to make it magically appear. Oh you don't want to go to that department store down the road and pay that price... guess you don't "really" want it after all.

Next they will start asking for one to make things appear from the magical "out back".

Embarrassed

2011-12-21T12:57:00.000-08:00

He did something, as one was masturbating, that involved a breast, both of his hands and his mouth. Actually there might have been some teeth in there as well. It is all a little hazy. There was a loud, screaming... well more keening... orgasm. That bit one is quite clear on.

Well to be completely honest one was also quite clear on how much the breast hurt after whatever it was He did to it. In fact it led one to roll over to try and find some way to alleviate the pain. That might not have been the most sensible move... post orgasm there isn't too much that sense stuff to be honest. In fact it ended up with Him lubing up his favourite hole with Mans' Grease, obviously in an attempt to find something easier to wash off, and fucking ones arse until he too came with a shuddering orgasm.

How was that?

Well the pain in the arse has taken the bodies mind off the pain in the breast... so not bad.

It was a hell of an orgasm too He said smugly.

What makes you say that?

Umm... the phone call from six blocks that way He said, indicating the direction of the window. They were applauding.

Looking in that direction one groaned...

The bloody window was wide open...

And that was a really loud orgasm...

Crap!

Returning to the 50's

2011-12-20T14:34:00.000-08:00

It was the Tuesday night RPG tonight. Well it was us and very little playing. In fact we are still quibbling about what to play. So meantime we decided to have a steak and martini night. Well that drinking component might have been one small slaves doing...

See they had never tried a martini before. This is hard to imagine. Those things are an ode to alcohol. So armed with some rather good gin and vodka off we set. Actually we also had a shaker, measure, glasses, vermouth, ice and a heavy cast iron pan. Err... that last one was for the steaks just so we are clear... seen what he cooks their food in normally L

Suitably armed we rocked up to find that she hadn't eaten all day. Now on martinis that is just asking to be stonkered in about 10 minutes flat, so we did the steaks first... which was rather a shame. The idea is to get a bit of a buzz and then kill it with some solid food. But anyway, off we set on our exploration of alcohol...

We started off with a twoo martini; which for the record is gin swirled gently with an olive trim, not some fancy flavoured crap. They sat there sipping cautiously. It tastes really good and then tastes not so good he reported. It was interesting to note though that when the booze hit his system (about five minutes flat) that was elevated to those things get better with every mouthful. She said so these are like gin? So really a martini is a rich person's way of having shots. Yeah think they had a firm grasp of the mechanics of a martini J

For the next round one did James Bond or vodka martinis... which personally one prefers. Sipping the edges of their glasses like two small birds their eyes got very bright. Oh yes those are good was the verdict. Now that was his last one... he is not a drinker, though he did agree that olives taste way better when drowned in booze (and he hates olives). She on the other hand was a convert... as she said they go with everything including cigarettes. Frankly nothing should go with that noxious habit, but then one speaks as a reformed smoker J

So there we are... finally found a way to make Tuesday night RPGing so much better. All that was needed was to get rid of the game component and add liberal amounts of alcohol. Who knew it could be so simple? Scampers off to unearth the cocktail handbook...

The first Christmas meals

2011-12-19T13:14:00.000-08:00

Today was the first family Christmas dinner of the season... yes there is normally more than one... and His work's do. As all one's favourite food turns up on a Christmas table that is a good thing J So with high hopes off we toddled down the hall to join His sister and the grandchild for lunch. Actually that isn't quite what happened so allow one to back track somewhat.

Arriving home hot and sweaty from the gym one found out that the grandchild was having her Christmas presents before lunch and we were expected there kinda now. Just the thought of childish shrieks of joy was enough to send one all a quiver, so dispatching Him as representative one hastened to the shower... where one lingered for an indecent amount of time before putting on a load of laundry. Hey with the big M comes the big R for responsibility. Beside as one always says if we ever separate He gets his family back... they are all his J

Wandering down there one discovered an ecstatic child, and more importantly, no lunch. Where's the food one enquired in an aggrieved voice. Honestly this was shaping up to be the worst bait and switch imaginable. In the oven was the reply. Smelling the worst one scampered over to peer in, before asking you mean the turkey that is burning in here? There was an almighty scramble and while they were engaged in bird rescue, one scampered back up to our end to forage for a snack.

He came to winkle one out of the study with the promise that lunch was back on track and so off we went once more... to discover His brother on Skype and his mother once more neglecting lunch preparations. Scowling one gathered food, with His sister in tow, and started laying out lunch. Burnt bird is one thing, cold burnt bird is a hard limit. It was then we found that not only did the child have a seating plan, but she had made place cards so there was no confusion. And so we started lunch... with His brother not getting the hint at all... until they eventually said their goodbyes and joined us.

Afterwards we demolished Christmas crackers (bon bons) and He pulled poppers while the child scampered after the streamers. Oh look she cried. They're purple! That's (one small slaves) favourite colour.

That child is a freak... a scary little four year old freak, who is going to go on to be a domme.

He sat there snickering...

Bastard!

Later in the evening we toddled out for the work dinner. Now generally we hate them... all of them. But there is food... well there is supposed to be food. Of course we hit the place on the night of their work do and it was staffed with ringers. This may account for why the bathrooms were awash, and a check of the door revealed a sign proudly stating they were checked at 1.45, which was about six hours ago by that stage. It may also account for why one salad sat there the entire evening without being replenished... though one isn't sure that you can call three limp lettuce leaves and two chunks of tomato a salad. Not to mention someone had eaten all the shrimp and salmon out of it.

In fact by the time the meals did arrive, well most of them turned up, most of us were hungry and surly... more so than usual for a work do. It was such a shemozzle that the place actually gave two of them a 15% off voucher for their next meal. Unfortunately as it is Christmas, they were unlikely to be of any use in the week they were valid for. So while they sat around laughing at the idea, some of us went to get desert... to find there was none left. That was when the collective howl of displeasure went up and we ended up with some comped meals for next time.

To be honest the only bright spark of the evening was the fact that the ankle allowed one to wear the dress and shoes one picked up a couple of months ago. So yay for persistence and exercise J And a big boo for the food providers for the day. They collectively sucked the joy out of the only bright spot of this time of the year L

Bastards!

Seven of nine

2011-12-18T13:32:00.000-08:00

Curled up watching Leverage, the final scene closed with Jeri Ryan throwing some hapless man on a bed. The slut one quipped, without malice.

Oh like you would turn her down.

Only like her in her costume

He laughed and said you are such a nerd

Not a nerd.

You would turn down a woman in the top one percent because she wasn't in her costume. That makes you a nerd

Well more a geek... admittedly a specialised geek...

Confrontational views

2011-12-17T13:07:00.000-08:00

From the mail bag

2011-12-16T12:40:00.000-08:00

One of the readers had some questions about the permanent plug and it was easier to put the answers here and bore all of you at the same time J

They were curious about what size the plug was and what equipment would be needed to use one.

The plug we own is the small one that has an insertable length of about one and a half inches. When we first got it, we used to unscrew the shower head and use the connector in the picture (above) to join the plug and the shower hose together and you can see the pictures of that in action here. Later He had a diverter installed in the shower so one could use the plug without freezing... isn't He kind? What the diverter does is separate the water flow into two streams, the shower and the plug.

The reader was also curious about flow rates and if you could pop the core back in to keep the water there.

The idea is to insert the plug, turn the water on a slow stream and let it gently fill you up. You will know when you have had enough... mainly because you will feel full. Which is usually followed by a sense of cramping as the bowel tries to evacuate. As to the question of whether you could put the centre core back in, thereby trapping the water... You probably could if you were bending over, but you would probably need a hand and it is going to mean that the enema is going to go deeper. It will not be a quick clean out, which is what the plug is designed to facilitate.

As to how long you could hold the water and if it would escape... yeah that is one of the battles that the arse is probably going to win. As we all know, the arse rules everything J

Reminders

2011-12-16T02:00:00.001-08:00

Sitting on the bus one is acutely aware of where He has been. Oddly enough it is not the nipples that are feeling His presence but one's arse. He kindly reamed it in the shower this morning before one left for work. And He was kind... he even used lube rather than the more conveniently available soap.

Not that it helped much... He leaned against the sphincter muscle until it was forced opened and then slid in up to His balls in one slick motion. He then proceeded to fuck that tight, lubed little orifice until He came with a shudder, for which one thanked him politely.

Even now sitting here this evening all one can feel is the pulsing throb of where He has been...

In fact it is as sore as buggery L

Things to put in your stocking

2011-12-14T13:42:00.000-08:00

It is no secret that we like fossicking around in hardware stores more than some. This is strange 'cos only one of us is what you would describe as handy. The thing is though that the other one of us has a good eye for practical applications of the things you can find in there. So the other week when we went to check out the new hardware chain a couple of these slipped into the shopping.

Today we tried them out and made a couple of interesting discoveries...

The implement:

These (for those that don't do tools) are a pair of curved jaw locking pliers. In this case they are miniature versions, about two dollars each and the size of the palm of your hand. He saw them and thought that they would make nifty nipple clamps. See the trouble with nipple clamps normally is that there is always a small issue with them. They are too bitey from the get go, not bitey enough, too fiddly, come off too easily, are a bastard to remove... you are getting the idea.

The pros:

They stay on
The level of bite can be adjusted
They are easy to adjust
Quick release

The cons:

There aren't any...

Honestly they are perfect. In fact one would go as far as saying they make the best nipple clamps ever and certainly the cheapest. Even when He was slowly fucking one small slave and pulling on these with a less than gentle hand they didn't come off. He was as pleased as punch with them. The nipples were too... though frankly they may not be so thrilled later on when the endorphins toddle off back home J

Crossing the line

2011-12-13T14:26:00.000-08:00

The best shopping centre round here is Chermside and they have done a bastard thing. Recently Westfield (the owners of Chermside) installed paid parking, and unveiled plans to do the same in all their shopping centres in the future, just in time for Christmas. They are even charging the staff who work there a flat weekly fee. Their reasoning was that too many people were using their facilities to park and ride to work, rather than shopping. This left an inadequate amount of car parks for shoppers and it was the only thing they could do to prevent this.

Now paid parking is one of those things... many states have it here and so do many places around the world. The difference is those places have public transport and/ or validated parking. Chermside has neither; there is no train station, it is two hours by bus or a 40 minute drive to get there from where we live. To add insult to injury after you have travelled all that way in your car you get three hours free, which is inadequate to doing serious shopping interspersed with a little lunch and afternoon tea at the French patisserie. Some of us like to... you know... Shop J

The area around the centre is a shemozzle... Cars are parked everywhere; the parks, side streets and the cricket grounds are awash with vehicles. The centre is claiming it is the commuters and they are telling the council to fix it. Their books tell a different story though... trade is down. And oddly enough casual employees are getting very reluctant to work there... strange that 'cos you would think that people going in for a three hour shift on a junior wage would be happy to pay for the privilege. In fact the only way some retailers can get workers is to pay for their parking.

See Brisbanites are funny people they will go the long way to avoid a toll... hell they sent the Clem Jones Tunnel broke with that principle. So we have done what many Brisbanites have done. We have voted with our feet and boycotted the place. We go elsewhere to shop, preferably to a non Westfield shopping centre. Those places which were struggling to survive against Chermside are reaping the rewards... And it is hurting not only Westfield, but the retailers. Their profits are down a significant amount... one or two have closed already.

So in the spirit of Christmas Westfield have offered validated parking... if you spend $199 your parking is free. They claim it is only for the holiday season. Now it is a reasonable offer... so we crossed the line. Oddly enough there was plenty of parking... if you can get underground parking there that close to Christmas things must be grim. We crossed because we needed decent shopping (they have shops that can only be found in the city) and we have no issue with validated shopping.

See if this had really been about stopping the commuters they wouldn't have installed some of the terms and conditions that they did (things like you can't leave and return on the same day and call it two visits) and they would have instigated validated parking. This was a money grubbing little exercise and they thought they could make more money by renting their parking space. What they underestimated was how much the people of this state hate being ripped off...

And they forgot that it takes the same amount of time for people like us to go to the city using the park and ride train system.

Wittner Felle 090

We love going to the city... and if they don't keep the validated parking that is where we will be going. Besides the people who produce these little babies have a shop there too J

Petty aggravator

2011-12-12T12:20:00.000-08:00

His idea of sensation play isn't quite like other peoples. One of His favourite past times is mean shit like this evening where He is repeatedly grabbing a breast and squeezing it. It is like nails on a chalk board and He only does it until one screams... usually in rage. Actually in this case one was yelling no. It is a completely futile word and honestly one doesn't think it means what He thinks it means. Otherwise He would stop surely?

In the end one turned around and asked is there a word that works like the word no, but actually you know, works?

Yes, He replied.

So what is it one asked without much hope... we have been down this road before.

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious He replied. And then He proceeded to try to make one use the word.

Yeah, so not going to fall for that one L

Then He added a new wrinkle. Rather than just amuse himself with the squeezing, He added hitting with a slapper. It is leather and shaped like a small red hand. It isn't painful so much as guaranteed to drive you insane... it's the BDSM equivalency of water torture L

Say your safeword He said with way too much glee.

There isn't one... 'cos we all know that supercalifragilisticexpialidocious was just a ruse.

Oh that's right, and off He went... slap, slap, slappity, slappity, slap...

You know just for the record, He really isn't as funny as he thinks he is L

Keeping owners apart

2011-12-11T12:52:00.000-08:00

We don't have much of a punishment dynamic round here... well... that isn't quite true. He just prefers to think of them as "appropriate deterrents" and He is big on them being fitting. Some of them are diabolically ~~clever~~ mean and vindictive. Like the time He made one watch a certain someone's special home movie. That won't be forgotten in a hurry... there isn't enough mind bleach to scrub those images away... and one still has lingering doubts about how fitting that was L

What this has to do with other owners you may be starting to wonder quietly...

There is an unwritten rule amongst slaves... keep your owners apart. Really it is the only sensible thing to do. See they don't just chat and good naturedly push each other under the bus like we do. They actively collude to push us under it and more scarily, they learn from each other. And it is never good...

Just occasionally, no matter how vigilant you are, the odd owner slips through your cordon. Sometimes it is a direct, full frontal assault on each other's inboxes while we grab a few precious hours of sleep or scamper off to work. You come home to find they have become fully engaged in their own embryonic bromance. When that happens all you can do is hope for the best... which is futile, unless the person in their life still has more powers of veto than you do J

Other times the ammo comes to them via your own inbox. Those one are always the worst ones... Not only is it that invasion of privacy thing (a nifty concept one has been reading about on Fet), but you are left with the knowledge that you enabled the whole situation to begin with. See most of the owner types are busy people. They usually only get to know each other through us s types to begin with... if we didn't chat amongst ourselves they wouldn't come up on each other's radar.

This unfortunate tale is a good illustration of the last scenario...

A friend has recently acquired a most unfortunate friend. So unfortunate that one did take time to write a note that was the concerned version of what the fuck? Well it seems she has acquired her new friend as a reminder to be a better person. Now it was inspired, one is the first to admit. And when He stopped laughing like a hyena one could see the burgeoning admiration in his eyes. In that moment one knew this was going to be tucked away and perverted into some horrible future event...

See one always thought that the home movie thing couldn't be topped... but you know... just occasionally one small slave is wrong L

Red!

2011-12-10T13:07:00.000-08:00

Alone...

2011-12-09T12:21:00.000-08:00

This morning one got onto an empty bus, driven by a man wearing a Santa hat. It felt creepy.... we're talking clown creepy here. Mind you it was not as creepy as all the people boarding further along singing out good morning Santa...

For fucks sake you're 40 years old! Santa isn't real.

No wonder some people seem to have difficulty separating reality and fantasy on boards. It's an extension of this willingness to hold onto a lie and perpetuate it L

Today's Grinching brought to you by sinusitis, an ear infection and a face that feels like it has been hit, repeatedly

Wayism

2011-12-08T12:30:00.000-08:00

Our group is often home to the Wayists. In spite of this we rub along OK because we don't believe our way is necessarily the right way for anybody else. Of course every once in a while we get a Twoo Wayist in our midst. Ironically they are usually what others might view as moderates.

They are the ones who believe that transparency must be a two way street for the relationship to be healthy. Their beliefs often include the notion that the properties emotional wellbeing must be paramount in the owners mind above all else, and that their mental wellbeing must also be protected. It goes without saying of course that the owner is still in charge, but these things are his responsibility and he chooses to do them willingly... or something like that. To be honest one is always so bemused by these assorted assertions that one just can't quite stumble past the hurdle of wondering exactly what the owner is in charge of, but each to their own...

Mostly the problems arise with these moderates out of their insistence their way is the only possible way. After all their position is reasonable, therefore it must be for everyone.... Yeah they bring that special brand of circular logic to all their outings in the group. It always gets ugly... it's bad enough that they are insulting to us, but they have to insult our intelligence too L

Generally most of us look at these people, pat them on the head and go that might be the case in your relationship, yet some of us manage just fine not doing it that way. You see we really don't care how they do things in their relationship. We do care about them tromping in and telling us that ultimately our relationships are abusive by contrast. For some reason they always seem to end there... right before they leave to write journal entries that exhibit more of that spectacular logic, liberally peppered with half truths. OK half is being generous here...

Apart from the fact that we aren't them, don't want to be like them, doubt that their way would work for us...apart from all that... The really irksome part is that nine times out of ten they believe their position is right because somewhere along the line, they had a bad experience with something similar... or something. Every single one of them seems to have had a bad relationship that has left them scarred, some sort of mental disorder that makes them especially vulnerable or emotional issues that are guaranteed to be triggered if their owner, master or sir tried some of that non-consensual shit on them. They just know it and believe it and preach it.

Well here's a heads up people...

There isn't one of us who has got to be an adult that hasn't had some sort of crap happen to us. It's a fact of life. Adversity is what shapes us and tempers us. Now, one does understand that everyone reacts to bad shit in different ways. But for the love of all things sacred would you stop coming into the group and projecting your stuff onto the rest of us. A major difference between us and you seems to be not the nuances of our lives, but that we know projection when we see it. Most of us have enough baggage without you trying to palm your suitcases off on us as well.

And we reserve the right to reject both you and your luggage.

Such romance

2011-12-07T13:33:00.000-08:00

Before we got together He had been engaged to his high school sweetheart. It was young love; romantic, intense and it seared and scorched them both from what one can work out. She was in love with a White Knight who wrote her beautiful poetry (He has hidden depths), but was unable to cope with his dark and less than courtly intents. He couldn't ratify the two. Fortunately she made a sensible choice and ended things...

Every once in a while, when cleaning out the odd box of papers (a family of squirrels remember?) we come across some of the poetry. And it is bitter sweet... one gets glimmerings of the beamish boy He once was. Oddly enough He hasn't written poetry since we got together all those years ago. In fact when one asked many years ago why he no longer wrote, He replied that one didn't make him feel that way. It seems being a muse is not one small slave's strength at all...

In fact there is little trace of the White Knight left today. There is no courtly love, little gifts of jewellery or sweets, flowers or candlelit dinners. But then one is hardly a damsel in distress and there is that shocking memory for romantic dates so... it's probably just as well. Otherwise one would be that terrible cliché who has no idea why their partner has run from the room sobbing after an intense period of expectant silence. Actually one has been that partner... sighs bad, bad girl.

Despite these obvious failings as a romantic partner, that we both suffer from, He is very generous with gifts of other kinds...

Why only today did He stroll in, as one was surrounded by drink bottles and tissues, to ask if one would like a set of these.

Yeah, the Dark Knight... ~~champion~~ terroriser of sick and sniffing slaves.

For lovers of red

2011-12-06T15:18:00.000-08:00

It was a dark and stormy morning

2011-12-06T13:33:00.000-08:00

So one was shoved into the studio...

Ankle restraints by Scott Paul Designs

Busted at the gym

2011-12-05T13:04:00.000-08:00

Generally there are unwritten rules at a gym... unless you are friends you don't really talk to each other, except to ask how many more sets before they are finished with a piece of equipment or commiserate how it doesn't get any easier. Even that last one is usually reserved for people you have had a nodding acquaintance with for... well a suitable period of time. You are starting to get glimmerings why an introvert would like the gym so much aren't you?

Anyway it was something of a shock when, as one was setting up the Hammer Press, a voice sang out across the aisle and said, don't they have lockers in the women's changing room?

Stopping what one was doing, which was removing some of the 20kg (44 lbs) weights from the machine, one replied yes, but that doesn't stop anyone with a bolt cutter. Besides if there is a fire one would rather evacuate the place with one's stuff.

Oh, hadn't thought of that he replied.

Satisfied that we had finished this unnecessary conversation one hopped on the machine and started doing sets...

Um I've just noticed your collar.

Liar, one thought, if that was the case why did we just have the inane start up conversation?

You know it has significance in certain circles?

Thinking crap (it is hard to breath and count and chat (high rep component of the workout)) here we go, one smiled politely (OK anyone who actually knows one would have recognised it as a grimace of annoyance but...) and replied yes one is aware of that.

Most people don't he said conversationally.

Yes well that is the joy of being part of a small and discrete community. Of course he ignored that hint L

So you know about the house in (uttered mangled French) then?

Sorry one said breathing through reps.

It's in France. Seeing one look blank he added the Story of O helpfully. It's what the collar represents.

Yes one does know where it is, but it's been 25 years since one read the book, didn't make the connection.

Oh I'm much more recently acquainted with it he said.

Of course he is... otherwise he might have considered some oh, you know, discretion and not be shouting this across a busy thoroughfare in a gym.

Nodding politely one got up and moved back to the bikes for a quick sprint to get the heart rate back up.

Moving into the weight lifting area there he was, and he came over as one was setting up weights to carry on his conversation.

So do you go out in the scene much?

We have nothing to do with the scene at all. Apart from Fet. And that is to stay in touch with friends who live overseas.

Oh everybody is on Fet. But since Libertine has closed there really is nowhere to go. Of course I do attend private parties.

Really? We have never been to so much as a munch and are quite happy with that.

Oh private parties are much better... and then he proceeded to give one the run down on his last outings.

We work end weeks...

End weeks?

Wednesday to Sunday. And He works nights.

Oh, yes, that would make going out difficult.

The light of finding new meat died in his eyes... it was very gratifying.

And now all one has to do is avoid him every Monday because his Senior Circuit Class is on then.

Crap!

Would anyone care to make a guess at what side of the slash he resides?

Later in the car one was recounting this to Him, he is laughing like a hyena, and pointed out this was all his fault.

How do you figure that?

It's this bloody lump around one's neck... it attracts them like a dick magnet.

Oh that is your fault... you consented remember?

Yeah, something else to think about before ~~a collar is slapped~~ you sign up... honestly one should start a list L

Who owns it?

2011-12-04T13:37:00.000-08:00

Fet has an interesting idea... anyone can come along and start a group, about pretty much anything they like. Unless of course it is something not pleasing to the banks and their corporate image... then it will get closed down pretty darn quick. Like many places Fet needs an income and to facilitate that it needs to be able to take credit card payments. Fet is not going to offend those credit providers or stand up to them and say no. Those little issues aside though, you are free to do what you want.

Now what motivates people to start a group is varied and interesting, but in many cases they are started because someone got butt hurt somewhere else and stomped off to start their own group. It is interesting over time though, how most of them rewrite their history to have much more noble beginnings than they actually had. But even a cynical person such as one small slave can see the appeal of we wanted to provide a safe place (from persecution, censorship, (insert cause de jour here) over we got pissy and left the last place. And to be honest one does find the rewrites far more entertaining too...

Most of the groups on Fet fail after about three to six months... people have no idea how much work actually goes into starting up a group and keeping it going. Oh it is fine in the beginning; everyone is very excited and rebellious. Ideas flow, creative juices are cranked up... there is a real feeling of camaraderie and everyone is in it together. Then the real work begins because as John Cleese allegedly said about Fawlty Towers, there are only 12 good ideas and boards are no different. Once you have done them, you then have to find creative ways to look at them again and again.

Then life gets in the way for the leaders of the group... it always does. And that is where it starts to get very interesting because how it ends up depends on who got busy. If mods get busy it happens. In many cases the people appointed to mod status are good group members. They contribute to discussions and actively take a roll in the group. Even if they aren't contributing, they are often floating around keeping an eye out for trouble.

See this is where most people go wrong when they appoint mods, they don't think to take into account if they actually start discussions. Being good friends and getting along is ultimately not as important as waking up and going oh thank god someone else started a discussion. Trust one small slave on that OK? But one digresses... back to this.

Where it gets to be trouble is when a group owner goes missing and/ or can't be contacted. See without their impetus because so many groups are cults of personality, the group starts to die. It goes quiet and people wander off to do other things. In some cases though people cluster together to bemoan the loss of the group and the camaraderie that they found there. And this is where it starts to get very interesting...

In situations like this someone will step into the power vacuum and become a focal point. They will become a surrogate group owner and people will follow them quite happily because they are just grateful someone is doing the work. They get to hang out with the people they like, they log on and there is a topic to discuss and everything is bright in their world again...

Right up until the actual owner comes toddling back...

Because then the shit always hits the fan.

It always hits because the group has usually veered away from the original owners vision... there is no way to avoid that... cult of personality remember? And the original owner then has to try and drag it back to their way... and then reality really bites. They left for a reason in the first place... and it is usually because they were bored, busy or tapped out. In some ways they have emotionally moved on and in some ways the group has done the same thing. It has become imprinted with the new owners flavour or essence if you will.

Which usually leaves the original owner with three options... quit gracefully and hand it over, try and wrest it back or blow it up. Now the first one seems to be sensible... you don't want to do the work anymore be gracious. Yeah, strangely that isn't what usually happens. There are a lot of hours involved in a group and it usually makes people very personally invested in it. People start thinking of it as theirs... regardless of who else might have been contributing alongside them and in their absence, and despite the fact that they may have publically vowed it is everyone's place.

Some will blow it up, close the group down and ask for it to be removed. The trouble is that while that is easy enough for a small group, it is much harder in a larger group. On Fet you have to remove all the members first and if you have pages of them it is long, slow work... not to mention some will rejoin just to be a pain. Strangely enough this process is often done in stealth... right before the owner themselves disappears.

Other owners will try and wrest it back. They may vow to do better and be more present, the mods may say they will do more and for a while they will flutter around. Unfortunately the reason it was dying is still there, somewhere between disinterest and the inability to rise to the challenge. And after you have done your "thank you, you're dismissed speech" to the temporary owner, and they have pissed off to start their own group, you are left in your dying group. Often surrounded by people who don't think you did the right thing by the people who have been doing the work in your absence.

See the trouble with cult of personality is that you can't just bugger off or turn your back on a group and hope it will fend for itself... because sometime it will. And the strange thing is, although it might have been yours in the beginning, dynamic groups take on a life of their own after a while. They are a bit like children; they change and evolve because otherwise they become stunted and die. You end up as a steward for a group once it gets past a certain size... all you can do is shepherd it into the next phase and make yourself look good by handing it off graciously when it finds a new partner.

Sharing intimacies... with the lounge

2011-12-03T13:26:00.000-08:00

It was one of those strange days where one came home, had a snack, put some dishes in the sink with sudsy water and trotted over to the lounge to read. Feeling cold, and unbelievably sore from the gym yesterday, one dragged a quilt up and snuggled into it. The lounge's soft skin warmed up and moulded around one's recumbent form as only leather can do. And before you know it the last thought was hmmm... it's only 7.30, there is time for a nap before He gets up at 9.30.

See because life is still a little frantic we sort of have a date night on Saturday. Oh not dinner and a movie... hell who has that much time? No, it is a date for something that is far more important to us... sex. As one has mentioned before sex for us is intimacy and without it we don't function as well as we like. Actually we don't function very well at all.

The sound of the heavy glass door being rolled open woke one up... kind of. Hey you it's 10.30 He said peering over the lounge. That is when He gets up to get ready for work. Shit... haven't made you lunch yet one mumbled, struggling to wake the rest of the way.

Well you would have been up earlier. I came out at 9.30 and you were sound asleep.

Sorry.

You even slept through the fireworks.

The brain tried to process that, while surreptitiously checking for wet spots. What fireworks one asked, wondering if He was still speaking in code?

There was a huge fireworks display up the road. It woke me up. So did the cat banging on the back door. You slept through the lot.

Oh... really, there were fireworks?

Struggling to escape the lounge's embrace one made Him lunch while looking longingly back at it. We have shared so many good naps... each one gets a little better. But now one is starting to wonder if the leather lounge is a little evil. Not only is it stopping one from being a good slave, it's interfering with our sex life. The damn thing is more insidious than the other woman L

Spreading Christmas cheer

2011-12-02T12:56:00.000-08:00

Getting on the bus this morning one was confronted by a bus driver wearing a tinsel hat shaped like a Christmas tree. It was complete with decorations, including a gold star on the top of it and golden baubles dangling from the brim. The damn thing also seemed to attract a lot of attention. People... all young females one noticed... kept taking pics of it.

All of this attention faded when compared with the rapt expression on the faces to two small children in an overtaking car. They were transfixed and pointed excitedly as they drove past. It was then that one noticed their car had antlers attached to it.

Dear gods this Christmas stuff is like a virus... it needs a living host L

Just a quick note...

2011-12-02T01:40:00.000-08:00

Blogger is playing silly buggers and won't let one small slave reply to anyone so... new look comments for now. Hopefully it will work for you guys...
It's Blogger, there are no guarantees :)

The stuff of dreams

2011-12-01T12:05:00.000-08:00

The day started with a drilling sensation behind the eyes and a fan blowing cool air in all the wrong places. By 7.30 one conceded that the migraine was only going to get worse, like they do anything else, and called in sick. He came home to find one kneeling quietly and contemplating which migraine drug to take. Yeah not quite the normal slave devotional stuff one hears of, but there are choices...

The first one works fine, the migraine is usually gone within three hours, and reduces the nausea. The second newer one works much faster, when it works, but makes the nausea unrelenting. In fact the only reason the doctor prescribed it is because he doesn't have to wait on the phone for an authority number as it has been streamlined. Decisions, decisions... wibble, wobble, flip, flop. In fact the only thing one could decide on was that breakfast was really needed and the thought of cooking was more repellent than one could bear. Particularly as the heat was already cranking up, along with the humidity L

God that He is, he turned on the bedrooms air-con and whisked one out the door for Hungry Jacks... know to the rest of the world as Burger King. Not here it isn't... damned if they didn't lose that fight J While their food is generally mediocre, it does dish up grease and carbohydrates with a rich selection of protein... in this case a bacon, steak and egg wrap... and more importantly you can't smell it being cooked while you wait in the drive through.

Going home happily snuffling through brown paper bags one decided to give the new drug another go. It worked in about an hour. That is to say it deafened everything to a stage where one could contemplate a shower, with assistance. Though to be honest, one isn't entirely convinced that coming in one small slaves arse isn't taking advantage of her rather than assisting. But, drive through treats have to be paid for, one way or the other.

Shuffling off to the bedroom, which was deliciously icy, suitably fed, medicated and sodomised one curled up to watch mindless TV until it was time to give Him a put me to sleep orgasm. Duties performed one was evicted back to drift around in the lounge. On the bright side it had at least started to cool down due to some very welcome rain.

So there we are... the hot fantasy life of a slave.

Domestic dreariness

2011-11-30T13:01:00.000-08:00

It was a day of it to be honest. Silly things like restringing the washing line. Nothing lasts forever in this climate and plastic coated anything is no exception. Of course as soon as the washing was hung out on the new line, it started to rain. It wasn't real rain, more a mist that you could smell and feel. There was enough however, that the washing had to be brought back in to the undercover line.

Apart from that it was hot, there was a low grade headache from the heat and a sore arse from yesterdays little endeavours. All in all it was a day spectacularly devoid of anything of interest. It happens in the best of households...

In fact it was so dull even the cat avoided us J

Asking for it

2011-11-29T13:33:00.000-08:00

How are you feeling He asked?

Those slave senses started to tingle...

Um... bloody sore. In fact the only thing that doesn't hurt is the arse. Seeing His eyes glimmer one hastened to add this part, clearly indicating gluteus maximus, medius and minimus with frantic hand signals.

I can fix that He replied.

See this is why we switched to verbal communication because hand signals are woefully inadequate for most. It is the only explanation for why He got it so wrong and spent the rest of the day trying to stuff large things in one's arse L

Starting with the x-small and then the small (which is a lie) MEO in He moved to the medium (again a lie, there it is in the middle) and spent some considerable time trying to get it in there. The arse said no. Which was so frustrating... it was so close and it just wouldn't go any further. We did however try out a new lube called Man's Grease... OMG that stuff is so good for large toys.

So He switched tactics and started fisting the arse... and that was where things started to go a little wrong. . The Man's Grease just allowed the hand to slip in and out... it felt soooo good. It fact it felt a little too good because it was almost impossible to not orgasm. That was the thing He was trying to avoid because after one cums, the damn thing closes up tighter than any amphibian.

In a flash of inspiration He thought he would try out the glass toy on the right. It is a similar size to the medium MEO, but a different shape. Again it would only go so far... that last blue line to be precise. And then things went a little wrong. With an almighty shudder the body orgasmed and everything went no... including one small slave.

So.... things we learnt;

Man's Grease is an awesome lube for big things
The arse can win a round
Man's Grease can make things very slippery for a while afterwards, though it does wash of toys and skin way better than silicone lube does
There is a sore spot between gluteus maximus, medius and minimus that has added yet another thing to the list of aches and pains L

Self torture... it's the new black

2011-11-28T12:59:00.000-08:00

Today one boldly dragged one's very reluctant arse back into the gym. A glance at the programme made one realise it had been four months since spraining the ankle. To be honest one had no idea it was so long, and being good one didn't have at it hammer and tongs. Aiming for about two thirds of the programme and dropping the weights back seemed to go surprisingly well.

There were some other surprises too... the lungs were not as bad as one thought they would be, though it is going to be a while before one is running round the block. And it is so nice to use the X-Trainer without ever present foot pain. The biceps have taken on complete girl status... they are going to need some work done on them... and the triceps also presented some difficulty of a different kind. The body has got so used to compensating for the foot it had no idea what to do with the foot working again. It took a while to find a centre of gravity and... let's just say there is nothing elegant about hanging from a straight bar shall we and leave it at that? And no there aren't any pics so don't ask.

Now as the end of the day draws near one is aware of a couple of things. It has helped no end with the slow spiralling slide into depression, but then so did His home remedy.

And His treatment actually hurt less than this is going to...

Selfishness continued...

2011-11-27T13:11:00.000-08:00

The day started out unseasonably hot, so much so that the morning medicinal cum injection was administered in the shower. Well it started there... it was one of those times that we all have during sex... they zig while you zag. In this case His arse kept colliding with the shower door, while one small slave's breast kept getting mashed up against the glass wall. It ended when one was ordered into the bedroom and unceremoniously shoved arse up on the bed while He finished off. In fact it was how one was left as He wandered off to do other things.

That was just mean He said emerging from the study

What was?

What you wrote. I'm not selfish... just focused.

Umm... you mean self absorbed...

I prefer focused

... on your own needs

We went to breakfast squabbling playfully over His misuse of the English language.

Hours later, having been picked up from work, we were huddled in the bedroom with the air-con on catching up on Chuck. The evening was so warm we actually carted our dinner and desert in there, and even with the air-con on our ice-cream was only just firm. It hit 34C (about 94F for our American friends) today with humidity in the region of about 83% and it is only spring L Afterwards, as one lay there thinking that ice-cream is better in winter while the cat battered the back door down to remind us its needs hadn't been attended to, He turned around and said well I think I'm done for the night.

How's your arse He said casually.

Are you asking how it is or are you asking if it has recovered from this morning's medicinal reaming?

Has it He replied.

No, since you are so interested in its wellbeing, it is a bit tender.

OK I'll use your cunt then.

Um... stuffed to the gills with dinner and feeling seriously unsexy here

Climb on I want to cum before I go to sleep.

So while feeling like a human fleshlight as one was slid up and down on His hard on with his hands firmly guiding one's hips, two thoughts scampered across the mind...

First that turning off the air-con before we started might have been an error on ones part and that...

He wasn't exactly making his case for unselfish behaviour at all...

The importance of selfishness

2011-11-26T13:05:00.000-08:00

On the face of it He makes selfish choices. They are often done with a casualness that is breathtaking, well to someone who was brought up with the idea that you always offer these things as a form of politeness. From drinking the last mouthful of anything, to asking what one wants to watch on TV and then ignoring it in favour of something He wants. All of the little acts that in an egalitarian relationship would conspire to drive someone not only insane, but mad with rage.

To be honest they have the same effect in this arrangement too... but... they also serve as little reminders that we are not in an egalitarian relationship. Subsequently what needs to change is not His behaviour, but one small slave's reaction to it...

This is where all that grace stuff one reads about comes into play.

Suppose violence is out of the question too...

A companion field guide to trolls

2011-11-25T13:05:00.000-08:00

Chapter four:

Genus: Troll

Species: crudelis

Common name: The cruel troll or old snarky pants

Habitat:

This troll prefers groups with a high quota of new and occasionally, one must concede, stupid people. Perhaps a better term for them would be newpid... Either way the cruel troll will not usually be found in quiet little groups minding its own business... well not for long.

Life cycle:

Stage 1:

Nesting:

The cruel troll arrives and usually exhibits highly insightful observational skills. They often have the capacity to cut to the chase in few words because they are witty, bright, articulate and often well educated. In fact these talents often gain this troll a large following... well you have to admire skill whatever its form. The cruel troll is one of the few that actually has not only groupies, but groupies that form a posse... one that will willingly follow it into the fray.

Unlike many of the other trolls the cruel troll is very good at perception management. It will form relationships with people via memos to further its aims, and it will actively court those who might be useful to it in the future. Like many bright charismatic people, the cruel troll has excellent people skills. And it isn't afraid to use them.

Stage 2:

Adult developmental stage:

As time goes on though, those keen scrutinising skills are usually turned more frequently on other group members. The cruel troll exhibits less patience with those it considers inferior in some way as time goes on. Unfortunately it has no qualms about hurting the afflicted or about scoring points on those who are woefully unmatched. In some ways this troll is the biggest show pony of them all, as it plays to the audience and is never happier than in a large group for this reason.

Stage 3:

The metamorphosis:

The cruel troll is an unusual one in that the behaviour usually keeps escalating. In fact it is one of the troll clan that is most likely to be kicked out of groups and given time outs from sites generally. Mainly this occurs because they tend to cross the line from just vicious to slightly rabid behaviour. In some ways it is like they have no idea where the line is and just keep moving over it, until someone puts a halt to its behaviour.

When the inevitable removal happens, the fan base comes into play. They start lobbying the group and site owners to bring it back. Often the fans are quite unaware that not only have they been manipulated, but that they are giving the troll more pleasure than anyone should receive... no one needs that much validation.

Spotting the cruel troll:

Of all the trolls the cruel troll is the easiest to spot. They are always the mean fish in the big pond. In the beginning they may seem very bright... and say the things you wish you had the guts to say. The difference is that somewhere along the path they cross that line and just make you cringe... repeatedly. After a while it becomes apparent that they enjoy inflicting pain for the pleasure of it... theirs might one add.

Control and eradication:

If you have one of these in your midst the best thing to do is nip it in the bud. They are only going to escalate. Should you find yourself in a group with one do not encourage it... even a little... because once it knows it has a following it will only get worse.

Doctor in the house

2011-11-24T12:05:00.000-08:00

Well He said, seeing as I am taking you to work we will have time for your medication. It comes in three forms; ingested orally, pessary or suppository.

Which do you recommend doctor?

Well suppository of course. Pessaries are effective, but can be messy a little later on.

That being the case one will bow to your wisdom...

This was how one spent part of the morning having a screaming orgasm with Him buried deep in one's arse, as he delivered a little mood altering cum.

Being a hedonist He turned around afterwards and said you could call in sick... It is grey outside we could watch a little crap TV, nibble on snacks, have more sex and go to sleep.

And truth to be told the offer was very tempting. Made all the more so by Him laying there stroking one in a most persuasive manner, might one add. Thinking about it one hesitated... torn between a natural wanton streak and the knowledge that work would be swamped without the extra set of hands. He turned on the charm... as only a Scorpio bent on getting his own way can.

That was how one found oneself floating along as He performed his oral magic. Well He asked are you going to stay at home with me? Suffused in the afterglow of another orgasm... that is the excuse one is sticking to... one replied no. And pointed out that as one had cum there seemed little need to stay. As the words slid out of one's mouth the world lurched to a grinding, uncertain stop...

Honestly it was the orgasms fault...

So one went to work... while remaining uncertain when one will be orgasming again... indeed if ever L

Devoured

2011-11-23T13:00:00.000-08:00

Life has got too full... and it has eaten all the things one likes to do. There is no time to chat to people, or go to the gym. Between His all consuming hobby which has bled across any free time one had, and fucked up shifts at work (that always happens at this time of year... yay Christmas) there is barely a skirret of time for one's self to think in, let alone do anything. It was so bad that last night one begged Him to go roleplaying alone. He said no.

Without the gym the depression is starting to come in waves... they roll across your psyche. All you want to do is sleep, but you can't. You wake up tired and it gets worse as the day goes on...

He wants pancakes stuffed with bacon (which has to be cooked) for breakfast, the cat is there working its own brand of intimidation, His mother wants a clock hung up, the shopping needs to be done, linen needs to be changed, the laundry needs to be redone thanks to His mothers insistence on planting lilies near the clothes line (forget about no wire hangers... it should be no flowers with stamens), the postie is honking his horn and one can't find anything to pull on, the dishes have soaked long enough and now need doing. All of it rubs and conspires to ensure there isn't five minutes alone, that isn't consumed with someone else's something.

Please stop the world... really need to get off

Of course we talked... and rejigged our time together to squeeze in some time for the gym.

And He ended up nailing one's arse to the bed... err not literally... to the point one begged him to please stop fucking it as the orgasm needed to end. It is a strange thing, but orgasms are like anything... even ice-cream. At some point you have to stop otherwise it starts to feel not so good, and ends up feeling bad if you persist.

The sex helps with the depression... for a while at least.

And tomorrow is another day...

The path

2011-11-22T14:23:00.000-08:00

It was a fucked up day full of nothing. In fact the highlight of it was discovering on Fet that for a master to attend master school, he needs to fulfil the following criteria:

Must be bigger than eight inches (apparently they measure you)
Must bring two bring at least 2 subservient women whom will perform for paying customers
Must have money

All of this will graduate you with the title Domme...

To be honest one thinks that should get you the title of pimp, but not having attended slave school one is obviously confused.

Mind you it was such a slow day that one scampered in to inform Him he wasn't a twoo master.

Yeah not much happening at all, though one suspects Auntie might have been right... a fool and his money are soon parted L

Bridging the gap

2011-11-21T14:16:00.000-08:00

This is dedicated to kaya and all those with Gephyrophobia...

We live on a peninsula... the only way to get off it to go to the south side of Brisbane is over several bridges. The first one is the Ted Smout Memorial Bridge, which at nearly 3km or 8, 990 feet long is the longest bridge in Australia and a reinforced concrete viaduct design. Its twin bride, the Houghton Highway, is now used for the return trip, though it wasn't that long ago that its three lanes were the only entry and exit from the area going in that direction.

Pic courtesy of the net

The second bridge, well bridges to be more accurate, is the far more impressive dual Gateways. Now renamed the Leo Hielscher Bridges, not that anyone actually calls them that, they span the next leg of the journey and go across the river to what is known as Southside. Brisbane is rather odd in that it bisected by a long and winding river and has about 15 bridges of assorted designs that span it at various points.

Now some of you may be wondering what we were doing wandering so far and wide... Well, we thought we might make a quick trip to IKEA. Yes it is half way across town and about two hours drive along motorways and over two major bridges, and probably several smaller ones, but we have a very different perspective on distance here. We also thought that on the way we would fix the small issue with our Gateway tag.

To cross the gateway you have to pay a toll and it is done electronically. Of course ours hasn't worked since we got it, even though we had been reassured it would start magically working after a couple of trips. So off we went to their head office... where we were informed that the reason it wouldn't work was because our model of car has incompatible tinting. It seems there is an area of about two square inches around the mirror where it will work. With that sorted off we set... only to discover we were peckish and closeish to Sunnybank. OK miles across town in a different direction, but it is very good yum cha J

After finally making it to IKEA and shopping until we dropped, and our credit cards had assumed a foetal position, we wended our way back home. It was several hours later and pitch dark, when we pulled up back home to find this little guy sitting on the garage entry. Those with Ranidaphobia might like to look away now...

The Green Tree Frog with another interesting bit of trivia...
These are often kept as exotic pets and the biggest problem is that they can suffer from obesity. Now in captivity their food sources are similar to those in the wild and include the usual insects and what have you. They will also stretch to small mice. No wonder they get to be obese... sit around all day getting large meals delivered, what do you expect?

A missed opportunity... and a plea

2011-11-20T13:28:00.000-08:00

As one arrived at work one noticed a big Labrador sitting patiently in the line to see Santa. The first thought was that it was probably a guide dog in training (a lot of them are brought there for socialisation) and then one realised he was pretty big to be that, and there was no smart dog coat on. Then one noticed that his owner had reindeer antlers in his hand. Oh dear gods someone was taking their dog to see Santa...

Then more arrived, all fractious and excited, barking and yipping as they tugged and danced around on their leads. Looking at it one suddenly realised it was pet day. The day pet owners bring along their fur kids to have their picture taken with Santa. The owners had an assortment of elf hats, reindeer antlers and Santa hats... as if being stuck next to Santa and having you picture taken isn't humiliating enough... you are owned by someone who is going to stick you into a costume for the event.

Soon the line had stretched along as everyone waited impatiently, and all one could think was the Coffee Club must be thrilled at this and wonder which poor sod gets to clean the floor. Seriously what responsible pet owner would think that bringing their animal to a noisy shopping centre is a good idea? Let us not even dwell on why you would want to shove them in a hat for the occasion.

And then the thought crossed the mind that we had missed a wonderful opportunity...

We could have brought the cat. Not shoved it in an elf hat, after all one is homicidal not suicidal. He reckons it would be an each way bet... Santa or the cat. Santa does have a large sack... the cat might not make it J

Nothing going on

2011-11-19T13:42:00.000-08:00

Santa and his minions are still parked outside the door at work. For some reason he has taken to smiling and waving whenever one goes past...

Maybe Santas are like cats and can sense who doesn't like them. Cats will usually make a bee line for those types and go to great lengths to rub themselves all over their victim.

Perhaps one could sic the cat onto him... she bit a repairman who came the other day, as he knelt while undoing a screw. Surely the red suit should enrage it enough to do some serious damage. It might even take out the photographer and her damned squeaky toy (which she applies liberally to encourage small children to look at the camera) while it was at it...

And people wonder what goes through an INTJ's mind as we wander to the rest room J

Degrees of separation

2011-11-18T13:05:00.000-08:00

One of the interesting things that has emerged from the VBA is how clicky and slightly incestuous we are. In some ways it shouldn't be a surprise. Some of us have hung out online for years, but following links around has made it very obvious how we band together. Most of us are linked by far less than the six degrees of separation that some theorists have postulated.

In the vastness of space we cluster together because although our relationships often have a gulf between them, we get each other on some level. We are the freaks who turn what is for many a fetish or an elaborate scene into a permanent power dynamic. It may flutter and wane occasionally as life tries to force itself upon us, but that dynamic will always rear up. Mostly because although some of us can do vanilla, we don't do it as well as we do this. Ultimately we are happier and more fulfilled when we aren't trying to squeeze ourselves into a power void in our relationships. Not that any of us would dream of doing that... cough, cough.

So here we are, a small flotilla of life rafts bumping and nudging each other in the blogosphere.

Out of the spotlight

2011-11-17T12:59:00.000-08:00

He came home looking tired, spent breakfast trying to get the computer to behave... for the record computers are not submissive anymore than cats are... and then cleaning up images from the photo shoot on Monday. Meanwhile one pottered around feeling slightly resentful... it was Thursday morning. It's supposed to be our morning together... the last one we have until Sunday.

And sure enough right on cue He wandered out in the last fifteen minutes before one had to get ready for work for a little put me to sleep sex.

Nothing says to a woman, regardless of the dynamic, that you are special quite as adequately as squeezing her in the last quarter of a day. Particularly a day when there is a standing arrangement to spend time together. A fact one did point out... you will notice those excellent communication skills... none of that passive aggressive shit and acting like nothing was wrong. See the thing is it is always a strange sensation when He is distracted like that. It's like someone has turned off the spotlight and you are left alone on the darkened stage... Of course this performer will ask what the fuck is up with the lights.

Of course He turned them back on...

We talked... about being too fried to do much more than what we were doing. It is strange but our lives are a mirror image at the moment... jobs where the staff is decreasing, but the work load isn't. It means that at times neither of us bring our A game to the relationship. This is something that we are both vigilant about. Hey even a relationship like ours doesn't survive without work... it's why we are still together after all this time.

Crawling across the couch for a hug one sort of ended up in an assisted ooops. That is to say one fell in His lap. Taking advantage of the position over His knee he proceeded to spank one with a less than gentle hand. He subdued the attempts to wriggle away with an arm and increased the rhythm. Protesting that one had only come across for a hug He replied this was a hug. Couldn't one feel His arms and the warmth?

To be honest one felt warmth of a different kind when He tossed one back on the couch and proceeded to perform some of that talented oral.

And there was even more warmth when He decided to finish off with a little anal without the benefit of lube of any kind... something He is too big for. That really made one squeak in protest... something He ignored. No sadistic tendencies there... oh no. It left one bleeding and has wrecked the damn thing for a couple of days is one's pick.

Dammit that spotlight needs a pink filter L

VBA is not a disease

2011-11-16T12:52:00.000-08:00

Most chain letter type things are a pain in the arse. In fact the family were told outright, if anything bad happened it would be all their fault for sending that stuff to one's inbox, as there was no intent to ever pass it on. It took a few years, but finally they got the message and ceased and desisted on sending one heart ~~warming~~ burning little bits of spam.

Then along came Vixen4770... who completely ignored the unwritten rulz regarding such things. And the worst of it is one is going to have to give her a pass because it is in a good cause... you will so get yours Alice L

It seems that the Versatile Bloggers Award is a way to help spread the joy of your reading list and creates a little publicity for those quiet corners of the web. The idea is to thank the person who nominates you and link back to them in your post, share seven things about yourself, pass on the award to 15 bloggers that you enjoy and contact your nominees.

To be honest one isn't sure what you don't already know about one small slave so let's have a rummage...

Hates wearing knickers with a passion
Loves morning mouse with a ferocity that is well... almost an illness... certainly symptomatic of one
Has a serious shoe problem... in fact one does an annual cull to keep the numbers down
The favourite colour is not purple... it's red dammit!
A bit geeky with a fondness for SciFi
There is a weakness for strong tea and bacon butties
Spends most of the time naked... even cooking the aforementioned bacon

Now there is a blog list of places one really enjoys. They are written either by people one knows from around the traps or have been places one has enjoyed quietly for a long time. Of course there is also a list of places one visits that are newer and often quieter that one slips off to when there is five minutes and a cup of coffee...

Now one has to sort them out and pare them down to 15... Yeah, thank you Vixen...

So in no particular order, which causes someone a tad anal a great deal of pain, the list of places you might like to read...

Bumbling Towards Submission

May you find something enjoyable J

Now as for contacting the nominees... that one might be a bit more fraught, but one will do what one can, though they may notice this when they slip in.

That being the case... Surprise!

You have been VBA'd

It's all Vixen's fault

Run rabbit...

2011-11-15T15:46:00.000-08:00

As some of you know one small slave is a reluctant model... completely camera phobic would be more honest. From the earliest age most shots are back shots as one escaped off into the distance, darted behind things or hid the minute a camera was pulled out. In fact one of the few family pics of one as a child is uncle on bended knee, with a grave faced child peering at the camera perched upon it, as auntie stood near us. What people don't see is uncle's arm clamped firmly around one's waist as he held on grimly. Hey difficult at any age... what can one say J

Of course because the universe is a ~~spiteful~~ ~~malevolent~~ humorous entity one ended up with a keen photographer and the running has come to a graceful halt. OK it is more that one is ordered into the studio and made to pose for the camera. Protestations that He has plenty of willing victims have fallen on deaf ears as has one's pitiful begging and pleading. For some reason He seems to like them not so willing... no sadistic tendencies there. Oh no... rolls eyes

The silly thing is that He does great work as you can see...

Even though you are never safe even when picking things up...

And He really enjoys taking the photos of one in a way he doesn't when photographing others... 'cos as one has mentioned there is nothing sexy about studio work. In fact He came all over one's immaculately made up face afterwards...

Um for those of you who use this blog as a how not to do stuff guide...

Cum in the eye... don't do it. It stings like a bitch and takes ages for the stinging to stop

Oh and mingled with heavy makeup makes it damned difficult to remove.

And He remains completely unapologetic for the incident... where is that damned slave union?

Just another day

2011-11-14T12:42:00.000-08:00

Well while everyone was displaying some impressive pink bottoms over on Fet, one of us spent the day in a very different way. It was another photo shoot and somewhere between being makeup artiste and wardrobe mistress, one got elevated to oiler of models.

Yeah, for the record it is not as sexy as you would think L

Purple all over

2011-11-13T12:13:00.000-08:00

A friend on Fet has an owner who makes interesting looking paddles. Well He thought they were interesting, while one small slave thought they looked mean and scary... if rather beautiful. Unfortunately His opinion is the only one that counts and before you could say wink one was on Fetmail making enquiries. He particularly liked one make out of Purpleheart wood... and they were about to do a batch of them.

Today one got a little note to say they were just being oiled and enquiring how one was. For starters they are not topics that should be in the same email... 'cos not good any more is a natural response. In fact the first thing one said to Him was, you realise that hitting one with that purple paddle is going to undo all your hard work with the colour don't you?

Looking up He said well in that case I will just have to use the purple Tango at the same time... that way you will just be conflicted.

Sighs it was worth a try...

Hell... on earth

2011-11-12T13:00:00.000-08:00

He came marching along, preceded by a vanguard of elves liveried in bright red and green. All around him swirled jazz musicians, carollers and hordes of small, screaming children. With great pomp and ceremony he mounted the enormous sled and took up position on the red seat... no sitting on Santa's knee for this generation of boys and girls... oh no, they get to sit next to him. The photographers took up their stations and held back by only a gold coloured rope, the crowd formed an enormous, ragged queue that stretched across the doorways of most of the businesses in our arm of the shopping centre.

Then the noise really began as the jazz musicians clustering to pump out hearty refrains of assorted Christmas melodies linked by rifts of blaring sound. They were joined by the carollers who took up stations opposite to sing completely different songs. In between all of this chaos danced small, precocious girls in leotards and antlers. All the while small humans dressed as presents cavorted around with the Cat in the Hat.

Still a little unsure what he has to do with Christmas.

This was topped off by the hoards of screaming children and air-conditioning that cannot compete with the old style halogen lights in the shop.

So let us see...

Screaming... check
Carollers... check
Indifferent jazz... check
Christmas songs... check
An iconic figure dressed in red... check
Children... check
Horns... check
Incredible heat... check

Yep, hell has opened its portals L

Seeing as it is the 11/11/11

2011-11-11T12:12:00.000-08:00

It seemed only appropriate that there be more eleven...

Njoy