I’m on restriction still. I can’t play with my nipples or masturbate to orgasm.

After I wrote my last post, I was quite worked up and asked Master if I could masturbate. He replied,

“I like it when you’re horny. As someone said on The Upper Floor, ‘Let the bitch stew!’

No masturbation today…no orgasms today.”

As usual, this caused me to both stick out my pouty lip and get even more horny!

Well, leave it to a sub to find a loophole. I’m now fascinated with bringing myself to the brink of orgasm without touching myself. I proceeded to work myself up to the verge of two orgasms that afternoon. I told Master of my mischievousness, but then got nervous that perhaps I’d crossed the no masturbation line. He said I’d indeed found the loophole, and that because I didn’t touch myself or have an orgasm I was fine.

When Master and I talked on Monday, we realized I’d gone 10 days. He suggested that the restriction might continue well into next week, and I panicked slightly. He warned me not to beg. It was a luscious mix of sexual frustration and excitement at the thought He might torture me in this way for a while.

He called back later that night and said I could play with my nipples only to orgasm. He didn’t put any restrictions on the number of orgasms, just that I could only play with my nipples (and He was explicit that I couldn’t touch my pussy or play with my dildo in my ass…which is another loophole I thought of invoking until He beat me to the punch with a no).

I came within 15 minutes of playing with my nipples. It wasn’t a race to see how fast I could cum but just an indication of how primed I already was! It felt really good and pretty intense. I waited until I was ready for bed, so the one orgasm was quite satisfying and I didn’t try for more. I slept very well that night.

The next morning when I reported back to Master, he said I was back on restriction until further notice.

These past few days with work have suppressed my libido for now, so the sexual frustration is minimal at the moment. Even in these moments when I’m not totally worked up, I love just the thought that He is in control of my pleasure.

My pussy tingles with every question: How long will this last? Will He allow me an orgasm here and there? When will He give permission next? What will His instructions be? Every thought produces the same feeling as if He was in the room caressing my body, licking my nipples, pulling on my nipple rings or fingering my pussy.

Well, I’m not feeling particularly inspired with a D/s topic for my blog this week. It’s been a crazy week with my business, which sort of pushes primal urges down the priority list. It would be easy to skip a week in this case, but I set my intention to write at least once per week. Feeling vanilla at times is part of the D/s lifestyle, too, so it’s not entirely off-topic.

There are little reminders in my day, however, that I am His. I’m relishing wearing His collar again. My habit of reaching for the clasp at various times during the day continues. When I’m working, it could just be a flash of a reminder, but I like that those reminders pop to my mind at random moments.

I had to get my picture taken for an access badge today. The picture captured the collar. I also met some new people that I’ll be working with on this new project. After I got my picture, I was aware of the collar and wondered if people noticed. It was a giddy feeling…like are they noticing it and saying to themselves, “What an usual necklace?” Whether they do or don’t, it is just one more reminder in my day that I am His.

I realized a long time ago that my submissiveness is not something I switch on or off; yet it is kind of a new feeling for me to think about it in my day like this. Maybe my awareness in just changing. While I’ve known I couldn’t turn it on or off, I tried to keep it in a box – at least in my mind – and separate my submissiveness from the rest of who I am. I tried to make it something I could turn on or off and to keep a strong boundary between the two (and keep control).

My fear was that if I let it out (even just to myself) that everyone would see some big sign on my forehead that said “submissive.” That fear is lessening every single day…to the point where I’m looking back and wondering what I was so afraid of.

But when who you are is so bottled up, fear takes over. The fear consumes so much of you it starts to seem like it is who you are. I’ve been unraveling that for a long (long) time, so feeling all the facets of who I am – including my submissiveness –  in everyday circumstances is refreshing.

Since my punishment on Saturday, I’ve been noticing a new feeling.

I shared with Master the next day that I’m not sure I’ve felt this feeling before. I described it to him as new level of contentment. The past couple of days, I still find myself fishing for the right word(s). I even turned to the dictionary to help me out.

The best word I came up with is docile. In reading the definition of docile, words like “willing to be led” and “yielding control” resonated.

In anticipation of my punishment, I wrote how I longed for Him to beat my will out of me. After writing that post I had epiphanies about compliance vs. submission.

When He commanded me to lay on the bed face down, I silently said to myself, “Be open.” I knew what was about to happen was going to be a new level of intensity and pain. I didn’t want to just comply with my punishment. I wanted to submit and be open to receive it fully.

When He suggested that 100 lashes might be too much, I silently agreed. That sounded like a lot. He’s given me 25 swats before with a body brush I own and that seemed like it would never end.

So, I laid there centering myself as He prepared me. I didn’t focus on past experience or even try to anticipate how it would be…I just focused on surrendering.

When He was finished and he was putting the collar on me, I do remember wondering if it was over. I felt like I could take more. That is why I was surprised when he eventually told me I’d taken 115 lashes. It didn’t feel like that much. It felt like only the beginning…

…and I say that not wishing I’d received more that day. It wasn’t a hungry, sub frenzy reaction of wanting more right then right now. It was a calm, centered reaction knowing that I am capable of handling this – that I can let Him take me to new levels of intensity and pain and trust my well-being in His capable hands. It was a glimpse into the places He’d take me if I’d surrender my will…and how much I would enjoy those places.

Punishment can be seen as a type of aversion therapy: associate an unpleasant experience with a behavior in order to stop the behavior. I’m seeing my punishment as having an opposite effect: if I don’t change my behavior of hiding and not being emotionally transparent with Master, then I won’t get to experience the wonderful place and feeling where Master took me on Saturday.

Master took me someplace new with my punishment. Since discovering my submissiveness, I’ve also embraced that I’m a masochist. I’ve enjoyed the mix of pleasure and pain that Master inflicts on me. But this was new; this was different. Master said maybe he’s flipped a switch, and I think he has….in more ways than one.

My mind seems to have switched from wondering what I’d give up if I let go of my control to wondering what I will miss if I don’t.

I always shut my bedroom door at night. I like the enclosed feeling. I fall asleep easier that way. I guess there is some level of security I associate with it. The door is not locked, but I figure I’d hear the door open if someone did enter.

In my fantasies I imagine…

I don’t hear the door open. He stands over me, observing me. He notices my breathing, my arm above my head and my legs slightly open underneath the covers. Without the covers, it’d look like I’m begging to be taken.

He steps toward me and runs his fingers lightly through my hair. I stir, which he takes as his cue. He grabs my hair forcefully and covers my mouth. I open my eyes but in the dark I can’t see anything. My heart is beating but I’m too scared to react any more than that. I’m petrified.

“Don’t move,” He says. He pauses for a moment. His deep, commanding voice is the underscore and exclamation point that tells me to take Him seriously. My tense body relaxes just a little bit, and He smiles that I’m obeying.

He shoves a gag in my mouth, ties a blindfold around my eyes and puts earplugs in my ears. I’m trying to decide if this is Master or not. We’ve talked about abduction fantasies, but He wasn’t taking me anywhere. In the haze of waking up, I couldn’t be sure if it was His voice or not. I want it to be Master…to have Him fulfill a fantasy. But what if it is a stranger? Someone who’s here to rape me?

I try to clench my legs without really moving. I do end up moving slightly. He grabs my hair again. He repeats, “Don’t move.” With the ear plugs in, His voice is muffled so I still can’t make out if it is Master or not. My heart sinks. I might be in real trouble here.

He pulls the covers off me completely and exposes my naked body. I just want to curl up into a ball and hide. He slaps my thighs to indicate to open them more. I instinctively open them wider, and I hear a muffled, “Good girl.” I can’t believe I obeyed Him. I don’t know who this is. And girl? Master never refers to me as girl. I’m fearing the worst now.

He starts handling my body roughly. He’s kneading my breasts and rubbing my pussy. My hands raise up to push Him away, and He grabs my wrists and cuffs them. He pulls my arms above my head and repeats, “Don’t move them.”

With my arms above my head, he pulls me down toward the end of the bed so my legs are dangling over. He stands between my legs and opens my pussy. He rubs my clit and comments how wet I am. I’m so embarrassed. My body reacts even when my mind tells me not to.

He steps away from me for a moment and all my protection instincts kick in. I close my legs and pull them toward me. He grabs my legs and forces them open. I try to fight Him but I can’t hold Him back for long. He gets my legs open and climbs on tops of me. He pins my arms downs while He shoves his cock inside me and starts fucking me as hard as he can.

I feel the orgasm welling up from inside me. I wish I could stop it. The more I clench and resist, though, the stronger I feel it coming. I squirt all over Him, and he chuckles. I think I hear Him call me a whore, but between the ear plugs and the orgasm, I don’t know exactly what He said.

He stands up, and I squirm to curl up again. He slaps my face hard and tells me if I don’t stay still, he will hurt me. Tears well up in my eyes and start dripping down my cheek. He holds down my arms, and I hear him faintly say, “Your turn.” Another set of hands forcefully spreads my legs. I gasp and start coughing because of the gag. The second cock starts fucking me while I’m trying to catch my breath. I have enough of my wits about me that I know if I don’t calm down, I’ll choke. I want to believe Master orchestrated this, and that I really am OK. Another orgasm is welling up inside me, and I squirt again.

They take turns fucking me. I cry while having after orgasm after orgasm until I seem to fade away.

++++++++++

I wake up the next morning discombobulated. The phone rings, and it’s Master.

“How’d you sleep?” He asks. “Did you have any dreams?”

I am collared, but right now I am not wearing His collar.

As he was leaving Wednesday night, he removed it from my neck and walked out the door.

My heart immediately sank and tears welled up in my eyes. “This scares me,” I said as he put it in His pocket. All I could think about was the conversation we had after the act for which I’m being punished. I expressed my anger and fears to Him, and he said, “You only need to worry if I rip the collar off your neck myself.” And here…it was happening (maybe not ripping but…).

About a month ago, I got mad during one of Master’s visit. He didn’t know it because my tendency is to just withdraw and get stoic when I’m mad. I didn’t express it while he was here. After he left, though, I started to let it out. I was so mad that I took advantage of the fact that the collar is broken and not locked at the moment, and I ripped it off my neck.

I thought of going into detail here on the blog about what happened and why it happened (my reasons). I’m very good at recounting and reliving the stories (over and over again). I know why it happened is not an excuse for what happened, and telling the story is dwelling on the details instead of facing the issue at hand.

Rather than trusting Master with my feelings and being transparent about how I was doing and what I was thinking, I withdrew. I didn’t want him to see this “ugly” side of me, and I took control. I chose to rely on ingrained, habitual ways of dealing with what feels like overwhelming emotion (and pain) rather than being in the moment and trusting that both of us could handle it.

It took me two days to even tell him I was mad (and during this time, I left the collar off). When I ripped it off my neck, I did so knowing the feeling was temporary and not some statement of not wanting to be His collared submissive. I wanted to feel better in that moment. A lot of my old habits are about that…feeling better in the moment without regard for longer term consequences.

When I finally did share that I was mad, I knew I couldn’t hide what I had done with the collar. Technically, I could have gotten away with not sharing it with Him, but I would have known. I felt very guilty for treating something I treasure so cavalierly.

For the past two days, I’ve found myself reaching for the clasp of my collar. I didn’t realize what a habit it has become to reach for and rub it in my everyday activities. I like rubbing the clasp as a reminder that I’m His.

The first morning without it, I looked in the mirror before I left for my meeting. I felt naked without it. I wondered if the people I was meeting with would notice it was gone. I was so worried six months ago when I was being collared about people noticing it and thinking it was an odd necklace. Now I wondered if they’d notice my unusal necklace was gone…and kind of wishing they did notice…like noticing someone is out of sorts and asking them if something is wrong.

I rub my bare neck and realize how sobering not wearing His collar is. At some level, I’ll always be His (collared or not) but I don’t want to just be His. I want to fully blossom and be the slave I am meant to be. I want to serve Him in all the ways I know are possible.

…and I can’t do that when I hide.

I’m a big fan of LOST. One of the many, many things I enjoy about it is the theme of free will.

This final season has so many good episodes, but my favorite so far I’d have to say is “Ab Aeterno.” I’ve watched it several times already, and I always dwell on this scene.

Jacob: “When [the people I bring] get [to the island], their past doesn’t matter. … [They died here, and I didn't help them] because I wanted them to help themselves. To know the difference between right and wrong without me having to tell them. It’s all meaningless if I have to force them to do anything. Why should I have to step in?”

I read a few slave blogs. At first, I drank them up and saw them as kind of a manual for how slavery is. I read entries about Masters who overpower their slaves when they exert their will. I started wanting that. I thought maybe that was the key to pushing my will aside and becoming Master’s slave. The day before Master collared me, I wasn’t sure if I was ready for the one thing I wanted more than anything in the world. I pleaded with him to break my will. I figured the only way I would give it up it is to have it taken from me.

He took my request to break my will seriously, but he won’t break it the way I think I want it broken.

From Day One, he has always told me I have a choice. There are times I’ve thought I understood this over the years, but I don’t always remember it. It’s a little too easy to think that just because he’s my Master that that single choice to submit to Him is the only choice I have to make.

As much as I value my submissiveness, I also value my independence. As I shared in this blog post, it’s what driven me to become a very successful businesswoman, to be a risk taker and to be persistent on this journey to discover and be who I am.

I wouldn’t thrive in a relationship where my will was taken by consensual force. It might look like I was submitting, but I’d really just be complying.

He could have been the one sitting on the beach speaking the words that Jacob spoke…and he’s expressed that to me in one way or the other over the years. I always think I get it, and I do understand it…but surrendering seems harder to do.

I feel like I’m on the verge of one of the most important choices of my life. At the very least, I’m at a huge fork in the road. The choice is very clear, and I know what I want. It’s not even a question of which choice I want to make. The final step is to make it. Yet, I hesitate and wish in all sorts of insidious ways that He’d make it for me.

For Christmas, one of the presents I gave Master was a set of keys to my apartment.

When the idea first came to me, I was thinking more about the convenience of him getting into my building without having to call. It’s a tedious but inevitable part of apartment life. It’s not that big of a deal I guess, but it did start to feel odd to have him call to be let in. In fact, the idea seemed a bit overdue the more I thought about it.

As the idea percolated, the symbolic started to seem more important than the practical. For as much as I’ve revealed of myself to Master, there are still ways I hide. It’s easy enough to retreat when one lives alone. He knows the ways I can hide, so it’s not a very good secret. Yet, I started to think about how I would be if I knew he could drop in whenever he wanted.

For as much as I want to be His slave, I’ve struggled with surrender. It’s easier for me to submit to him sexually – restraining me, whipping me and all the other ways he controls my pleasure. It’s much harder to let down and let go of the emotional walls and just be me in any given moment. Not that I’m not me with him…but there are still so many ways I try to control my emotional response. As ineffective as I know those ways are, I cling to the control.

Master said he’d come by today. I wanted to shower before he came but didn’t rush to do so. Just as I thought I should get into the shower, I heard the keys in my front door. I was naked, but I usually am when Master comes to visit. I’ve been sick, and I have a lingering cough. I’d rubbed Vicks VapoRub on my feet and chest to help alleviate it, and I was wearing socks because of the ointment. So here I am in nothing but socks, smelling of Vicks and needing a shower. It was a more “relaxed me” than I usually let him see…and I just chuckled. Master seeing me the way he did today wasn’t a hard, emotional wall to break down but it was a layer of vulnerability I’d normally guard.

I like that I didn’t know when he was coming. I like that he can now drop in on me anytime he wants. I like that my opportunity to withdraw and hide is diminished.

Ultimately, it is up to me to unlock the doors Master encounters. Giving Master the keys to my apartment is not a magical answer but it is one step toward surrendering the keys that protect my soul.

I’ve been on restriction from masturbation since right before Thanksgiving. At first, it was only for a weekend. Then my family arrived in town from Thanksgiving. Master then turned it into “until further notice.”

With my family here, I have to be honest that masturbation was one of the last things on my mind. Besides lack of privacy in my home (I was also sharing my bed), dealing with family kind of sucked the sexual drive out of me. I love my family, but sometimes it is hard to deal…especially as I observe family behavior patterns. All my dreams that I’m going to change my life and my own behavioral patterns start seeming kind of hopeless as I watch them deal and react to life in the same, old ways.

The times I talked with Master while they were here were titillating. I was sure my libido would return once my family left. Interestingly enough, it didn’t.

It’s not like I didn’t want to masturbate at all. In fact, I noticed how my habit is to grab the vibrator as I crawl into bed. Since I’m on restriction, I find myself reaching for it, and then stopping. I didn’t realize that habit was so ingrained.

I did have a dream one night during the week that I started to masturbate, and then I remembered I wasn’t supposed to. I wondered (in the dream) if Master would consider playing with myself but not having an orgasm as violating the restriction.

Since I work from home, I can generally masturbate whenever I feel the urge. I like the fact that I can masturbate during the day, and then have a phone meeting right after doing so. I don’t generally track whether or when I masturbate…I just do it when I feel the urge. Now that I’m on restriction, I’m noticing how many times a day I think about masturbating! Let’s just say it is a lot. During these moments, I played with my nipple ring a bit. I wondered if that was violating the restrictions. I almost sent a text message to Master asking him that question, but I got distracted by work and never did.

Given how many times I think about masturbating in a day, you’d think my libido would be higher right now. It’s just not.

I saw Master on Friday. He asked me how the restriction was going. I shared all of this plus the fact I’d gotten a flu shot and was feeling a little puny from the side effects. I think we’re both a bit surprised this restriction hasn’t had a different effect on me. He said he was going to lift the restriction but decided not to after hearing my report.

He did show me this great video from kink.com. That woke me up some…it was definitely arousing. Since Master is quite the compassionate one, he said I could masturbate that night (up until midnight), but then I was back on restriction.

He left, and I thought about masturbating. I both wanted to and didn’t. It was a weird feeling.

He called a few minutes later. He said I didn’t have to masturbate…only if I wanted to. I can’t even explain how freeing that was to hear. I felt myself melt inside. Maybe I’m more depressed from my family’s visit than I care to admit…and in that moment, I just felt permission to be however I needed to be.

Even though the urge was not high, I decided to masturbate. I was really missing my dildo and butt plug in my ass more than wanting to play with my clit or pussy. I took out my dildo. It has been more than a couple of weeks since doing any sort of anal masturbation, but instead of easing into it with smaller toys, I wanted to feel what it would feel like if Master were to fuck in me the ass right in this moment…him balls deep in my ass.

I lubed the dildo and laid on my side. The dildo inserted fairly easily, although I had to just stop and rest once the head was past my sphincter. I imagined Master saying, “Surrender.” My whole body relaxed, and the dildo slipped in the rest of the way. I moved it in and out, and it felt soooo good.

I put the dildo in all the way, and then took out my g-spot toy. It felt so good to work my pussy with my ass so full. Two, deep orgasms welled up from inside me. On the second one, I cried…just letting out a couple of weeks worth of frustration that I’d been burying instead of expressing.

I sent a text message to Master telling him I wish it was his dick in my ass. He called, and all I could really do was giggle. Obviously, my mood had changed.

I masturbated to one more nice orgasm after we talked…and one more with the vibrator right before going to bed at midnight. I’m not sure how long I’ll be restricted, so I wanted to get what I could in…

Holding my new nephew (a few months old) is such a joy. He’s starting to smile, laugh and notice more of the world around him. It’s fascinating to look where he is looking and try to see the world through his eyes.

I feel the awesome responsibility as I look upon this child. I’m not his parent, so I can only imagine this feeling is intensified as a parent. As an aunt, I still look at him and think about the delicate balance of letting him grow and be who he is meant to be while at the same time guiding him, directing him and protecting him.

He rubs his eyes as he lays in my arms. It is clear he is tired and fighting sleep. I turn down the lights and turn off the TV as a signal that it is time for sleep. I hold him in my arms and rock him gently. I sing lullabies to him.

His eyes droop, and I watch him travel toward that edge of being completely asleep. Just as he reaches the edge, he wakes himself up a bit. He rubs his eyes again. He stretches. He fusses but doesn’t outright cry. I gently say, “Shhh…” over and over to calm him again.

I would think a baby this small wouldn’t be “fighting” nature so early. Even this small baby is wanting to exert his will. He likes to see the world around him. He’s aware of who’s around and seems to want part of the action. He doesn’t want to go to sleep.

My sister and I discuss whether he needs a bit more milk. While we know an ounce or two will definitely help him sleep, is it really what he needs? He is clearly tired, not hungry.

As his caretaker in this given moment, I know I can’t force him to sleep yet I also know it is what he needs right now. I look at him lovingly and contemplate how I can help him give in – submit if you will – to his needs.

I take my index finger and lightly run it along the bridge of his nose. I guide him in a single direction – to close his eyes. His eyes close slowly, step-by-step as if he is descending stairs. Within a couple of minutes, he is sound asleep.

Before Master locked His collar on me, I had it in my possession. Over the course of a couple of weeks, I progressed from wearing it around the house, to wearing it for a few hours out during the day to wearing it full time (unlocked). I had to report on my experiences. This was my last report. He collared me the next night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

During a bodywork session today, the therapist noticed my collar. He looked up close and touched it. I smiled. And that was it. He didn’t ask about it, and he didn’t say anything.

I have to admit that made me mad. Not at him. I was mad I was going to have to report to you that “nothing happened.” It proves the points you’ve been making that I’m more worried about what people will think than what they will actually think. And even though I agree with your points, something in me wants to prove my points – to justify my fears and all the feelings that go along with them.

I can feel anger welling up inside me…and I’m trying very hard not to direct it at you. I felt it on Saturday when I shared my fears about my family. I was mad at your curt (although very Domly) responses.

When I read your “OK” response, I was seething. Did you just not want to deal with me and these feelings? Were you dismissing them? I know you don’t do that, but that wasn’t stopping these irrational thoughts from picking up speed.

I was wearing the collar. I’d worn it at home all day. And I ripped it off when I read your “OK” response. It was almost midnight. I knew my assignment to wear it non-stop would start on Sunday. But in that moment I wanted control. I wanted you to respond a certain way. I wanted to be right. I wanted things my way.

I left the collar off for about an hour. I put it on when I went to bed. I was fighting with myself – both wanting to be angry and to let it go. But I’d already decided I was going to carry out my assignment as directed and – by God – I was going to wear the collar no matter what! I was NOT going to push a panic button on my first day of wearing the collar full-time.

After getting through Sunday and writing my report, I did feel better. My anger seemed to subside, and I was hoping it was momentary. Then when you wrote back that the report was humorous (and serious), I thought, “I wasn’t trying to be funny!” I felt the anger swell again. And it swelled more with each e-mail message you sent last night.

I sat here last night and wanted to rip this collar off. I didn’t want to give you a single ounce of control at that point!

I didn’t rip it off, but my will was not letting up. I was going to keep control by not giving you the satisfaction of taking it off! (and now I’m laughing at myself while I write this…)

In the shower on Tuesday morning as I’m washing around my collar, I admit I’m panicking. I’m not taking off the collar but I’m panicking. I wonder if I’ll ever be ready for you to lock it. I’m wearing it right now with the instructions to not take it off, but the truth is I still have the power to take it off. I can make the decision to take control back. Even though I might suffer some consequences, I still have the choice. I still have my own will.

I’ve tried not to fantasize too much you locking the collar on me but – in a word – I’ve imagined it to be “sweet.” You’d lock the collar with some nice fanfare, and I’d happily submit to this next step of our journey together.

With the water running over me, I noticed I was just standing there staring at the shower floor. I’d been in a trance. I was fantasizing about you taking me by the hair, pushing me to my knees, exposing my neck to you and with your strong hands grabbing my throat and locking your control around my neck. I imagined that I was crying and telling you I wasn’t ready yet…that I needed more time to get used to the idea. Without words, you did not indulge my fears. You just took me forcefully and locked the collar.

I indulged this fantasy while driving home Tuesday night. After locking the collar I collapse and just bawl. You let me cry but you don’t leave me alone. You spread my legs and start fucking me. You comment on how wet I am for someone who said she wasn’t ready to be collared. You fuck me; you bite me; you spank me. In between sobs I’m saying no, but I cum over and over again and my resistance wears down. You fuck my mouth; you fuck my ass. You cum inside me and on me. You mark me as your own.

When you’re done, you let me lay in your arms. I’m not crying…I’m not fighting. I know my will is no longer my own. I’m Yours.

…

There is that part of me that wants to hold on to every bit of freedom I have and is not going to let it go easily – if at all if you leave it up to me to let it go.

I want to be taken. I want to be claimed. I want to feel your power over me. You don’t want to rule by force (and I don’t want to be ruled by force), but I want to feel your power over every cell in my body and know my will is Your Will.