A couple weeks ago Master and I had one of our three anniversaries. Yes, one of the three. Now, I’m not big on anniversaries, I don’t demand gifts or things like that, and this last anniversary passed with little recognition until a few days later when I realized it had passed. I do like anniversaries for the sheer and simple fact that it is a way of marking the time we have spent together, a way of remembering the day we met, or the day we collared, or the day I moved a few hundred miles East to be with him (those are the three anniversaries if you didn’t figure).

I like remembering the day the anniversary celebrates, so I thought to commemorate the anniversary of the day we met face-to-face (which was actually two weeks ago, July 29th) I would tell you a little bit about that day.

First, to tell you about the day we met face-to-face I have to give a little background about how we met and all that other stuff. I have a little bit of it written in my about page but it doesn’t go into great detail. I haven’t really talked about how we met in this blog yet, just where we are now.

Master and I met online on irc.sexnet.org in late 2004, December or so. I had just gotten out of a relationship and was rather sour on relationships in general, he was still married and rather sour on relationships in general as well. I had been told by a friend of mine that he thought I was one of “Pan’s girls” (Master goes by Pan or Pantos online) as in, someone that he scened with on a regular or semi-regular basis. I had never really interacted with Pan although we had similar friends and had seen him around since 2002, so I told him that, and he was surprised because, as he said, Pan and I have really similar desires and sexual tastes.

Needless to say I was intrigued. I made it my intention to get to know Pan better, to talk to him, see if we really were as compatible as J had said. Obviously we were otherwise I wouldn’t still be with him three and a half years later. We began talking, just getting to know each other at first, and then it moved to more. We both declared that we didn’t want a relationship, that we would just be friends and have fun online and chat on the phone and whatnot, but that we weren’t looking for anything serious. I had a crush offline that I was trying to subtly get with, and I talked about her with him, and we got to be good friends.

We talked about him coming to see me in March of 2005, though only idly, and so it didn’t really happen. We were in and out of touch for quite a while, talking most days but not quite every day, that usual online stuff. One night in June we were talking (he was drunk) and he told me that he loved me, that he was in love with me. I was surprised because we had sworn to each other that we would be just friends, but not that surprised because I had suspected he felt for me more than a friend. I knew I felt for him as well, and him telling me that allowed me to feel what I felt for him. I told him I loved him as well, and we started talking about him coming to meet me.

I moved in June, and went home to Alaska for a couple weeks, and then when I came back to Ashland we started seriously planning. He was going to come over on the weekend of the 22nd, arrive Friday night then leave Sunday night, be back home in time for work the next day and all that. He wasn’t able to get on a flight that weekend, he was flying standby at that time as his (ex)wife works for Delta and so he got free flights. And a side note on the wife thing, they were polyamorous, and she knew about me. He was not cheating and I wouldn’t have been with him if he had been. However, I did know that he had been unhappy with her for a few years prior to us being together, so I was a catalyst–though not the reason–for him eventually leaving her.

Back to the story. He wasn’t able to get a flight on the 22nd, which we both bemoaned, and catching a flight the next day would just not be good enough, since we would have even less time together. Since the Medford airport is so small there was only one flight from SLC to Medford a day, so it wasn’t like he could hop on a flight an hour later. We grumbled and were upset but he told me that he would try again the next weekend. And so, on July 29th, 2005 he hopped on a plane from SLC to Medford, then took a taxi to my apartment and knocked on my door.

I remember I had dressed up for him. I put my hair in pigtails, wore a black button-up shirt and my short yellow and green plaid schoolgirl skirt with thigh high fishnets and a garter belt. I was looking hot, and I knew it. I had just moved into the apartment and had very little furniture at the time, though I did have a bed upstairs, and a chair and futon in the living room, but that was it. The living room was large and spacious with just a few scraps of furniture in it. I opened the door, we said hello, he set his luggage down, and then we proceeded to maul each other. He pressed me against the door, we kissed hungrily, he slid his fingers under my skirt…

The first meeting is somewhat of a blur, honestly. I remember kissing him seconds after he came through the door. I remember us not making it two feet before just getting down and fucking right in the living room. He had me kneel and take his cock in my mouth while still against the door, then we moved and he fucked me from behind, my cunt and my ass. It was a whirlwind of excitement for the both of us. Nearly eight months of foreplay had led us up to this point, and there was no way we were leaving any inch of each other untouched.

I remember cuddling up next to him lying there on the floor of my living room, both of us spent and happy after an uncountable number of orgasms. We were cuddling my favorite way, him on his back and me on my side facing him, my head fitting right in that nook that still feels like it’s made for me. We were grinning like fools and so amazingly happy, and all I could think was how perfect we fit together.

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For my second HNT I wanted something, again, which is going along with another post of mine. I just yesterday published my recap of the weekend play party and my first public play experience, so I figured showing you all the pictures taken after that experience would fit right along nicely. The picture above was taken via Master’s camera phone, so it’s obviously not very good quality. Unfortunately we didn’t bring my camera with us to the party, so we didn’t get a good picture post-play aside from this one.

Obviously the coloring is a bit off, my skin is not actually that blue, but you can see the pretty cane marks on my butt and upper thighs, as well as some flogger marks mixed in for good measure. I think it’s pretty yummy, and hope you appreciate it as well! And, because I can’t just leave you with one poor quality picture…

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Taken two days after the party by Master (with my Rebel XT), just so you get to see the pretty bruises it left as well! I love bruises, but, unfortunately I have a butt of steel (or leather, which works too) and it doesn’t bruise very easily. It was being spanked, flogged, and caned for a good 45 minutes or so, including quite a bit of caning, and all I get are two lousy bruises? Curses!

That’s not to say I don’t like the bruises or think they’re pretty, far from it! I just adore marks and want more! But, then, I’m rarely satisfied, am I? Alas, we’ll just have to try harder next time.

Master and I went to our second play party this weekend, our first was a couple weeks ago where we didn’t play, we just observed. Despite being into BDSM for many years, we’ve never gotten much into the actual community, and since we didn’t know people very well and we didn’t bring any of our own toys to the first play party we didn’t feel like playing (though, I felt like playing near the end, but we didn’t).

This party, however, we did end up playing. We mingled and chatted for a while, observing others in their scenes, getting introduced to new people and seeing a few friends. I was wearing a black leather corset with spiderweb tights on my arms (basically spiderweb tights with the crotch and feet cut out, which works very well as a pseudo-shirt), a black skirt with D-rings and black bondage straps, black lacy panties, and silver and black cute femme shoes. I looked good, if I do say so myself.

We made the rounds, watched some delicious scenes including some caning, rope bondage, gas mask breath play/asphyxia, pressure point play, and physical force (not all in the same scene, mind you). I got a little antsy watching all the others playing and I asked Master in my coy and subtle fashion (until he made me ask him verbally) if we could play somewhere. We walked around, looking for an empty room, and ended up getting one after a little bit of waiting. I took off my corset and skirt, stripping down to my panties and spiderweb tights, and got up on a long flat massage table with my head facing away from the door.

We pushed the boy-cut panties up a bit so they were more thong-like and he had access to my ass, as I didn’t feel comfortable taking them off. He started with some nice swats to my ass with his hand, getting me warmed up. I was nervous, but it was kinda nice to be nervous and heightened the experience in some ways. I was facing away from the door so I couldn’t see people looking in, and we were somewhat secluded, in a seperate room off of the living room and most people were outside or downstairs, which helped with my nervousness as well Once I was able to focus on what he was doing and not on the fact that we were doing this in public it stopped being an issue.

Once I was sufficiently warmed up with his hand he began flogging me. We used to have a flogger that I liked better than the one we currently have, not that this one is bad mind you, and at that moment I missed the old one. It was much heavier and had a better thud. Despite missing the other, the flogging was long and yummy. He alternated between slow and fast, hard and soft, all as a good flogging should go. By the time he moved on to the next implement I was so far gone and loving every second of it.

The cane was next and, honestly, I love canes when I’m in the mood for them. I think they have a wonderful combination of burning and stinging, plus they leave the most gorgeous marks (look for that tomorrow for my HNT, by the way). I was deep into masochistic pain-space and loving every second of it so even though the cane hurt there was also an amazingly warm and yummy feeling coursing through me. He alternated between the cane, back to the flogger, then to the cane again, and I would occasionally notice someone at the door behind me, but was unable to tell who it was (various people, I’d assume).

At one point, our friend Ashley, who is gorgeous and graciously invited us to come with her (also my newest favorite friend here in SLC), came into the room and observed. She remarked that I have a nicely rounded butt (a bubble-butt I call it) and Master asked if she’d like to get in a smack with the cane, which he was currently using on me. She readily accepted, warned me that she isn’t nice when it comes to inflicting pain, and asked how hard she could hit. I told her I had a pretty high tolerance, so she gave me a nice hard smack, and let me say: it hurt! It wasn’t unbearable, though, and it was actually really nice (and painful). She hit me a few more times before realizing that Master had only asked her if she wanted “one” smack with the cane, not multiple (though, honestly, she probably could have kept going and neither of us would have cared).

She handed the cane back over and either departed or watched for a bit longer and then departed (I’m not sure). Master asked how I was doing, and when I said “wonderful” he informed me that he would continue until I asked him to stop. I was more than fine with that. I found that I really like multiple fast semi-hard swats with the cane, it creates more of a burning sensation than a stingy sensation, and I really like that better. I asked him for that a few times over the session. He switched back to the flogger, and then back to the cane, all the while I was flying high.

I asked him if he would put his hand over my nose and mouth while he spanked me, which is my favorite method of breath play/asphyxiation. I find it extremely intimate as well as much more solidly breath-affecting and slightly less risky than hand-on-throat. We had seen some gas-mask breath play earlier in the evening which was also suitably arousing. He controlled my breath perfectly, I thought, and spanked my ass with his hand and then with the cane while controlling it. As you probably can imagine, I was taken even higher into that pain-space/sub-space/play-space mindset.

After playing with my breath for a good amount of time he stopped and kissed me and told me that we were done. I still wanted more and could have taken more, but I knew that he was right in stopping before I hit my limit. I got off of the now very sweaty table and he cleaned it with alcohol as I fixed my panties and put my skirt back on, choosing to opt out of the corset since it would be a pain to get back into and I was much more comfortable without it, plus the spiderweb mesh makeshift-shirt looked hot by itself.

We headed to the kitchen where I ate a bit of food and had some water, and then headed outside where we were told that our scene was hot by someone I didn’t know had been observing. I realized I didn’t know who all watched and who didn’t, aside from Ashley, which was a little strange, but not bad (and actually kind of hot). For the remainder of the party we chatted with people, wandered around, and observed more, including a fantastic play piercing session with 50+ needles which was amazing. Master and I played with the idea of flogging my back a couple hours after we ended our session, but it didn’t end up feeling right, so we decided against it.

All in all it was a wonderful party, and I really enjoyed meeting new people or meeting people I had seen at other events. I’m finding that I’m more interested in getting involved with the community here the more I get to know people, which makes sense, and I’m really looking forward to getting into it even more.

Master and I were lying in bed last night and I remarked that he had forgotten to turn off the light in the “office,” the door of which is next to ours in the corner of the small hallway in an L configuration ( | = our bedroom door _ = the office door). Since our door was open, light was coming in, and we like it to be pretty dark when we sleep.

He grumbled a bit, told me to do it, I teasingly refused, and he got up to turn it off. I told him I would have turned it off, but on his way back to the other side of the bed (his side is the side opposite from the door) he straddled my legs to softly grind his cock against my ass before lying back down. He then mentioned that if he hadn’t gotten up he wouldn’t have been able to tease me.

Two can play at that game, I thought, so I leaned over and down and licked at his cockhead before taking it into my mouth. I didn’t want to just briefly tease for a second, I wanted to get him hard and then move away and stop. I figured that would get him to fuck me, at least my mouth if not somewhere else. I bobbed my head a few times until I could feel him harden and tried to pull my head away.

While I was focused on teasing he had moved his hand behind my head, not so it was touching, but so that if I pulled away as I did his hand would catch me and not let me back up. My hair was in a bun, so he easily grabbed hold of that and dug his fingers into the hair around it, pulling at my hair whenever I tried to get away. It was deliciously painful, and because of it I decided to clench my teeth together so that he could not get his cock back in my mouth.

We struggled like that for quite some time. He pushed my mouth against his cock, he slapped my face with his cock, he grabbed and tugged at my hair and asked if I would be a “good girl” to which I frequently shook my head or replied with a “no.” He growled and pulled my hair more, making me whimper and cry out with the pain, twisting the bun so that it tugged at what felt like every strand.

He began to stroke his cock in front of me, and I could no longer resist the temptation of the now extremely hard shaft. I stuck my tongue out and wiggled it against the cockhead while he stroked, then took it into my mouth when he let me. His hand still gripping my bun as he began to fuck my face, or, more accurately, he began to forcefully stroke his cock with my mouth, tugging my head up and down by my hair.

It didn’t take long until he was groaning, grunting, and shooting his come into my mouth. I swallowed it like the good little cunt I am, and proceeded to lick and suck at it for a few moments longer, to make sure I had gotten every last drop.

We don’t often play with my cunt side, but it has been coming out more lately. It’s always delicious when it does. Master loves forcing me, and I love being forced, so it’s really a win-win. In an odd way it is also a way for my Domina side to (somewhat) come out during play with Master, as I can have somewhat more control over the situation, but end up being overpowered by him… but this is something to get into for another post.

Afterward he told me that I should know that I would not be able to tease him like he can tease me. Of course I knew that, but pretending is much more fun than just giving in to that fact.

This is something I’ve been meaning to post on for a while now, but I just haven’t been able to get around to it. Some of you may have noticed that I took cuntpet out of the title of this blog as well as out of the nick I was using (scarlet lotus cuntpet–now scarlet lotus sexgeek). Cuntpet.com still forwards to this site, and will for quite some time until/unless I choose to do something else with it, and I do still embrace my cuntpet-hood, it was not for that reason that I have taken it out, for it is still in the subtitle “24/7 submissive cuntpet” because that’s how I identify.

Cuntpet has come to be an identity for me, not just a name. This was also it’s original intention but I didn’t realize what that meant at the time. Another original intention of cuntpet was simply to get away from the term “slave.”

I dislike “slave” as my personal identity, and although I used to embrace it, I did not do so wholeheartedly. There has always been something not quite right about it for me, which brought me to the search for something different. I don’t like the historical connotations, or the indication that as a slave I would have no choice whatsoever. While I do think that is one thing which distinguishes slave from sub I also did not (and do not) embrace sub (though I embrace submissive, but that’s for another post). I believe that all consensual slaves have a choice, as they are choosing to be a slave, otherwise it cannot be consensual.

I also dislike the “I’m a slave, therefore somehow better than just a sub” mentality, though it’s nearly impossible to get away from. Not everyone feels like this, of course, and not everyone thinks there’s that sort of hierarchy within different BDSM roles. I don’t believe that someone who is a bedroom-only submissive is any more or less of a submissive than someone who is submissive in a 24/7 M/s relationship.

I didn’t realize how much I have started to dislike the identity of slave for me (not for others who choose to embrace it, just for me personally) until Master and I were talking earlier this week and he mentioned that I signed up to be his slave (which therefore has certain requirements along with it, that too is another post). It wasn’t appropriate at the time to correct him, though I mentioned it roundaboutly later, but inside my head I screamed “not slave! Cuntpet!” Though in some ways they mean the same thing. I even went through and changed all the references to me as “slave” in our contract, protocols, etc. to read “cuntpet” as you can see.

My idea of what it means to be a cuntpet has changed slightly since my original conception of it:

My use of the term “cuntpet” incorporates four dynamics within it: Owner/cunt, Owner/servant, Owner/fucktoy, and Owner/pet. All of these are similar and different in their own ways, some overlap to an extent, some are almost contradictory, and all of which I identify with and either have or am striving to have in my current relationship.

Owner/cunt is an identity which I have lifted from a post by cunt of Under His Hand, which I take to mean as a way of having fun with bratting and force fetishism within an Owner/owned framework. As she said: “I get to have my “force fetish” scratched without it having hidden meanings of anything bad. I get to dance out of reach and sing “make me” and then run like hell, because he will make me and it will hurt.” Basically I see this aspect as the ability to be stubborn and strong-willed at times, the ability to not be the “perfect slave,” and to play with force, bratting, but also not being able to get away with it, and being completely overpowered in the end.

The cunt aspect of my submissiveness is almost directly opposed to many ideas of what a “slave” or even a 24/7 submissive “should” be. I don’t subscribe to “should”s and think that everyone is able to embrace whatever label they so choose, because labels are not boxes, but categories, and nothing is confined to just one category (my complete view of labels will be another post).

Owner/servant is slightly more self-explanatory. I have come to think of this in some ways as being his personal assistant. I am here to assist him in any way he needs/desires, be that maintaining the cleanliness of the house, fetching him drinks, preparing meals, and all those other daily little things. This aspect of my submission to him does not come as easily to me as the other three aspects do, but mostly that is due to inherent procrastination and not the desire not to serve him.

I love doing things for him, don’t get me wrong. I love the look of happiness he gets on his face when I do something for him, and I love the warm feeling I get from serving him, but sometimes (like when I’m sore and have trouble moving, or when I’m in the middle of something else) it is difficult for me to do for him as quickly as he or I would like. I believe that servant/personal assistant (pa) is the weakest aspect of my submission, and something which I need to work more on, both for him and for me as well.

Owner/fucktoy incorporates the sexual aspects of my submission to him. This aspect represents my sexual willingness and desires, not encompassed by the other aspects. This is my having given over my body to him as his property, my willingness and desire to be used by him in any way he desires. Different from the cunt aspect which craves force, this aspect is the one which simply craves to be used like a whore, like a toy.

Willingness is a big part of this aspect. It’s about embracing and releasing my inner harlot, it’s about being an eager and shameless fucktoy for his (and my own) pleasure. It’s about giving in to all those sexual desires quaking within me. It’s about being able to be free in my sexuality. The ability to be fucked hard and thoroughly without any thought to my own pleasure, but deriving pleasure simply from being used exactly as we desire.

Owner/pet is also somewhat self-explanatory, though also has a bit of the servant and fucktoy aspects in it as well, which is part of why I chose cuntpet (though mostly because it was the best sounding and cuntservanttoypet is too long and doesn’t sound nearly as good). I have always said that I love to be fucked like a dirty whore but also pampered like a prized pet, depending on my mood and the mood of my Owner. Also, one of Master’s favorite terms for me is to call me his pet, it has been for a very long time.

This is the aspect which in some ways covers all the rest, but only with explanation, I think. If I was just to consider myself a pet the other aspects would not come through the same way as they do with cuntpet, though As I said in my first definition of cuntpet: pets can be strong and willful, independent, stubborn, and spirited, while at the same time being able to be tamed.

My darling Kat had a saying “A wild horse doesn’t need to be broken. If she is tamed properly she will still have fire in her eyes while eating out of the palm of your hand.” This quote, in some ways, encompasses the cunt, pet, and servant aspects. I am looking to be tamed, while still retaining everything about me. I desire to be overpowered, tamed, and trained into the mental mindset of each of the other aspects.

Cunt and fucktoy come the easiest to me, then pet, and servant. Even though I have the desire to serve and to do for him I have become jaded over the ten plus years I have been exploring and playing with aspects of my submission, not to mention it’s difficult to work up the desire to clean when it is way too hot outside and in (we lack air conditioning) and when I have things I want to write, and when… the list of excuses goes on. I do have the desire, but inertia is so much easier to give into rather than fight.

We are making massive steps forward, however. I am closer to the mindset I desire than I have been ever before, and we are working better than we have ever before. I constantly marvel at the fact that despite living together for two years, being together for three, I still elate when he comes home from work, or when I know I will see him after being apart for hours. I still ache for his touch, and desire to explore more with him.

One of our major downfalls was that our relationship started as completely sexual-based when I (we?) desired to have a mental D/s connection. Due to lots of hard work, however, we are closer to Owner and cuntpet than we have been before.

Please note: this post will contain talk of ravishment/rape play and is not meant to be a trigger for anyone who may have suffered from sexual assault. This post or participation in this activity does not condone any sort of non-consensual sexual activity.

As Tart said, “Do I want actual rape? Good lord no!” And I completely agree. I can’t express my feelings of horror when I think that people actually think it is acceptable to have sex with someone completely against their will, and yet I find consensual play incredibly arousing. Playing with vulnerability and putting myself in seemingly vulnerable situations is one of the strongest lures I have to BDSM in general, and is my pull to rape play.

There is something powerful in consensually giving oneself to another, something I’ve talked about numerous times before. Willfully putting oneself in the power of another to create the illusion of helplessness while still having some measure of control is all power play is about. Rape play is another form of power play, obviously, as most rape is about power, not about sex. Being able to pretend to struggle, to be “overpowered” and “forced” into submission is something which appeals to my force fetish and allows an outlet for my strong-willed and stubborn nature while also being in the context of Master’s and my relationship.

As said before: do I want to be raped? Do I want to be taken against my will? Of course not! I would even say: hell no! However, rape play is about the blending of one person’s will to struggle and be overpowered and the other’s will to overpower. It’s about mutual fantasies being fulfilled, and fully consensual and safe, even if it may not always completely feel like it in the moment.

That said, on to the scenario.

Master and I were lying in bed, talking, teasing each other. He moved on top of me and grabbed my wrists as he often does, I struggled a little more than usual, and he became more forceful. As he became more forceful I began to struggle even more, saying “no” and “stop” and trying (not too hard) to get out of his grasp. He told me what he was going to do to me, he slid a finger inside me and told me how wet I was, that I wanted it, and I disagreed.

He began fucking me hard, wonderfully, and he continued teasing me about my desire, which I constantly refused to admit until he slowed down and then took his cock out of me. I whimpered and refused to admit it for a few moments before giving in, furthering the scenario by admitting to be a horny slut, begging to be fucked, begging to be used, begging for his cum.

The few force scenes that we’ve done have ended that way. It’s a long-time fantasy of mine, being discovered as a slut, being called out on it even if I’m pretending to resist. It is something Master loves as well, he’s the one who always turns it to that aspect of it. “Non-consent” erotic stories (or, consensual non-consent scenarios) were what lead me to BDSM in the first place.

These are desires that, when I look into the origin of them, don’t make much logical sense. But, then, what desires really do? The desire to be out of control for me (a control freak) is a big mixture of scary, exciting, and arousing. The same can be said for vulnerability. One of the nice things about rape play is that it allows me to be scared in a way that regular play does not. I can work with feeling scared and vulnerable in a space where I can let those emotions out while still knowing that I am safe and cared for (despite the appearance of otherwise from an unknowing outside observer).

Last night I was so close to cumming I just couldn’t. I was right on the edge, but something just didn’t click the way it should have, and I ended up frustrated, though less frustrated than I was a few months ago when the similar thing happened. Part of (or maybe the entirety of) the reason I was less frustrated was because of the difference in the relationship dynamics between Master and me. I was annoyed that I didn’t cum, and he said something along the lines of “be thankful you got that much” and it somehow put things in perspective.

Despite not cumming, it was still a wonderful and delicious fucking session. He hadn’t fucked me since Sunday and said I was spoiled by our vacation, during which we had sex nearly every night. He had me admit to how badly I wanted him to fuck me, and then he fucked me nice and hard, my legs on his shoulders, him pinning me down as he rammed into me. It was good, and perfect, and one of my favorite positions.

There was thunder and lightening outside, and after he came Master opened the blinds so we could see the streaks of light across the sky. Master and I both are big fans of thunder and lightening, and he began fingering me while I was laying with my head near the foot of the bed so that I could watch the sky light up. He had me rub my clit, and after I asked to cum he told me that I could after the next lightning strike.

I whimpered and moaned and tried to hold on as long as I could, but there was a definite gap, as lightning had just struck before I asked. I held on for so long that when he finally told me I could cum, I couldn’t. I was so close but I had trouble letting go, and I ended up not cumming at all. I was disappointed, frustrated, and so close to the edge that I felt like I was going to pop, but for some reason I just… couldn’t!

But, his words to put me back into my place, remind me that cumming is a privilege, not a right, and that really did the trick. I consider this a testament to the way our relationship has furthered, and him saying it as a testament to that as well. I didn’t feel any resentment or annoyance, I was just content with what he had said. All the discomfort and disappointment melted away into loving him.

That’s right, I thought, I should be lucky he gave me the pleasure that he did. Not because I don’t deserve it, but because I have chosen to give my body and my self over to him to do with as he pleases. If my cumming pleases him, then I should cum. If my hanging right on the edge so long that I am somehow unable to cum pleases him, then I shouldn’t cum. This is what I have been wanting for, to feel owned, to be cherished, and even to be denied if necessary.

Three nights ago (Monday) was the first night we implemented the new way of greeting. I am to have dinner ready, be freshly showered, and be waiting, kneeling and naked, with my collar offered to him, when he gets home from work. He works late and doesn’t get home until a little after 10pm, so I have a bit of time usually after I get home to relax, get other things done, and then make dinner and shower and get ready for his arrival. It’s been really amazing to have that more dedicated and ritualistic presentation to him when he first comes home, offering myself at his cuntpet, getting into that mindset right away.

He’s also implemented a few other things, such as asking to use the furniture, and we have been calling each other by our role names more often, by which I mean Master and scarlet/pet/cuntpet/etc. respectively. There are more things which I believe would be helpful for us to implement, as just the asking to sit on furniture is itself a little odd, since we don’t have others surrounding it. Something like having to ask to leave the room, or to go to the bathroom, or things like that. Making sure to ask, also, whenever I get up, if he needs anything, things like that.

Little details and little rituals are so amazingly important, especially in a live-in 24/7 situation. I think our earlier downfall, which we are now correcting, was letting little things slide.

He has also begun to simply act in a different manner, as have I. We are both focusing more on these chosen power roles which we inhabit, and so we are able to be in them more and with much more ease than before. Things have changed in leaps and bounds and we have gotten farther in the last week or so than (I feel) we have in quite some time. While we usually make small improvements here and there, we have been changing more monumental things which are, at the same time, all the details.

It is really amazing to feel this transformation. I have become a lot less resistant, though still smart-mouthed and bratty to an extent, but more accepting of his domination over me. He has become more easily able to tap into his domination and has become more attentive to the details in order for us to sustain our roles. We’ve really gotten closer to where I feel comfortable, and we’re both enjoying it a lot.

Well, we made it back to Salt Lake City safe and sound, and only slightly worse for the wear. One of these days I will post a general trip update in my general blog… once I get around to it.

Master and I have been talking a lot, I mean A LOT about what we want out of this relationship, where we want it to go, the difficulties we have with it. I know a lot of the time I make it sound like all the reasons why we are not farther (or where I want to be) are because of him, and that simply isn’t true, but it does feel like that on occasion, as this is my blog, my emotions, my expression of my point of view, of course it feels like it’s only him who is wrong at times.

However, that simply isn’t true. I was talking with Kat not too long ago, however, while we were still in Norway. We were talking about Master and me and my needs and his desires and our relationship and why it wasn’t working and I got to a point of realization. I have said before that I am a control freak, and this is very true. I have come to realize the extent of this control freakyness, something which seems obvious now that I have thought of it, but something I hadn’t quite put into these words before: I need complete control or no control.

Now, no control doesn’t have to literally be no control, but just that the little control I have is given to me and can be taken away at any moment. So, in my ideal relationship situation I would still have control over quite a lot as far as my personal, professional, academic, emotional, and relationship lives, however, all that control is temporary and not something that I have naturally, but something which I am allowed, something which is given to me and which my Owner could take back at any moment.

This is not something which is has been happening in my relationship with Master, and because I often know that I can get my way if I am stubborn enough, or I know that he will cave if I do a certain thing or another, I haven’t been taking his Dominance seriously. Because of that, he has been having an even harder time relating to me on a D/s way than we normally would. There is the problem of him having trouble receiving it when I do attempt to submit to him, and part of that is because of his own issues, but part of it is because I haven’t shown him my submission well enough.

I need complete and total power exchange, or I don’t respond as well. I need to have no choices, no way to say no, no control whatsoever, and I need to be shown that he is capable of this.

My other ideal situation would be to have complete and utter control over everything. This is not something that I have really talked about, either, as I am first and foremost submissive. Lately, however, I’ve been opening up to my Dominant side, and I think I may be more of a switch than I have really let myself believe before. This is a side of myself which I would like to explore more of, online, at first, as that is a wonderful way to explore new sides of oneself, I believe.

While I want to explore my Dominant side, I do not want to explore it with Master as my sub. Though, I could see myself Dominating someone in front of him, and that’s something I’ve done before online, actually, but it’s not something I would want to do to him, nor is submission something I think he would want to explore for himself.

After our many conversations, things are drastically changing. It’s all those little, subtle, teeny tiny things which can make or break a D/s relationship. It’s thanking him whenever he uses me or allows me to cum. It’s having to ask for permission to sit after getting something for him or for myself. It’s having him remind me to call him “Master” (which I don’t always do) or me correcting myself and calling him Master after calling him something else. It’s all those little things that have really made a difference.

We’re nowhere near perfect, of course, and there are many things I still desire to do, and which I hope he desires to do to me, but I feel that we are much closer than we were before, and that we are starting to pick up the pace, as it were. We have talked about numerous other things which we want to change, to do, and many of which I have that hate/love feeling for. The feeling I have toward humiliating and degrading things, or submitting in general, it’s a love for the feeling I will get from it, but a hate for actually doing it.

One of those things is being trained as a pet. I think this will be good for me, good for our relationship, but it is something which I both love the idea of and will hate the humiliation of, but love it at the same time. I want to have to crawl everywhere, sit at his feet while we’re watching tv or he’s on the computer, patiently attending to him quietly, only allowed to make animal noises unless I have something specific to ask him. I would be made to ask him if I need to go to the bathroom, if I need to move at all, if he would be alright with letting me do something, if I could cuddle with him on the couch instead of next to him. I would have to eat my food out of a dish on the floor, drink and food alike. He would pet me and play with me and do as he pleased, my body, my will, my self all given to him.

I want to be tied up, teased, and left, bound, for long periods of time, not knowing when he would come back, showing me that he can do as he please with me. I want to be shown that he can Dominate me completely, that he is higher than me and I his servant, his pet, his toy. I have so many needs in me, and I need to get better at letting him know them.

I feel I need to make a few clarifications to my last post. I think it came out as a lot harsher than I meant it. I pointed Master to it last night and mentioned that I thought it might come off a little stronger than I meant it, and he said that it was pretty harsh. It was really just unrestrained pouring of the situation onto the screen and I realized afterward reading it over again that it was a little too blunt and came off as really blunt, harsh, and worse than I meant it.

I end up writing things a bit stronger or exaggerated than they actually are sometimes, because I build things up in my head, it’s just the way I do things. I over-analyze and often tend to blow things out of proportion in my head while I’m in the middle of analyzing and figuring them out, and I often write about things from the middle of that analyzation and they end up coming off a lot more strongly than I actually think about them or more strongly than they actually are… if that makes sense.

While everything I wrote was true to an extent, it is also not true at all times, but are things which I struggle with and I’m trying to work through and figure out for myself. Not everything I said about him, specifically disappointment, are true all the time. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy in many cases, but these are things which we have talked about and which are better than they were a year ago, a month ago, and even a week ago. We do talk about things, and my writing here is a catalyst for the beginning of those conversations, which is part of the reason why I write in here.

Things are not quite as bad as I sometimes make them out to be. We are moving forward, we are talking about things, we are changing. We’re constantly in a state of figuring out what works still, as both of us have all sorts of hangups that we are working through. But, we definitely are moving forward. We are worlds away from where we were (nearly) two years ago when I moved to be with him. We are also far from where we were even just last week. Every week, every day, brings us closer to the way we want to be.

After the post we had a very long talk about everything. We came to some wonderful conclusions, including acknowledging the efforts each of us has been putting in. I say a lot that he’s not meeting my standards, not living up to my expectations, but only because I have unreasonable expectations. I’m Veruca Salt, really. I want the world, and I want it now! I’m the queen of instant gratification, and I want us to be the way I know we will be one day right NOW! This is not to say that I don’t appreciate the changes both he and I have made over the years, nor do I not acknowledge that we are much closer to our goal than we were before, but I do sometimes get frustrated that we are not as far as I would like us to be.

We both have a lot of hang ups, emotional blocks, and things that each of us has to work through and work with and figure out. We have gotten through many of them already, but there are still many more to go. The most important thing is that we are both dedicated to making us work. I have thought about leaving, but I would never bring myself to do that. Thoughts of leaving a difficult situation are normal, really, and they have crossed my mind from time to time, but only in the depths of my own paranoia and crazyness.

I love this man more than anything, and I am devoted to him, even if I have doubts, or find him annoying at times, and even when he doesn’t do exactly what I want him to do. Though, that’s part of my problem that I’m working on. I need to be submissive on his terms, not on my terms. I need to give up my ideas of what a situation should be like and focus on what it is, and focus on him rather than me. I need to have faith, like glen said. It’s difficult when I know lots of times he doesn’t think about things the same way I do, and it’s been difficult to have faith when I know that quite often he lets things slide and he defaults to vanilla, but he’s working on that, and I’m working on having less expectations, and we’re both working on communicating more.

More later, I have lots more to write.