I mentioned this in my last post, but I'd like to talk a little more about our threesome with our new friend, H. We met her online, but we had talked to a lot of other people online before that and none of them had ever worked out. We had talked about a threesome with another woman for so long that we knew exactly how we wanted it to go, and we weren't willing to settle for an unsatisfactory experience with the wrong person.

We had even recently had a bad experience of our own. I don't want to go into it too deeply and dredge it all up again, but before we met H. we got together with a couple to play did not work out. It caused a lot of tension and (momentary) jealousy between my Owner and I, although we were able to come through it. That experience taught us that we are strong together, strong enough to find the right person to play with, strong enough to weather the tough parts of having a somewhat open relationship. We found H. pretty quickly after that and decided that we needed to believe in our relationship and pursue things with her even though we had been burned recently.

Anyway, we immediately hit it off with H. We had fun e-mail and phone conversations with her, separately and together. The energy was perfect. We all wanted the same things out of the experience, and we loved that she seemed to be open-minded. I especially loved that she was coming to us with no agenda - she truly wanted to be with both of us and I didn't get the feeling that there was going to be any problem with my relationship with my Owner in any way.

The night we finally got together was truly amazing. We had the opportunity to do so many things that I had been fantasizing about for so long. Also? She is a great kisser and great with her tongue. (Oh, and did I mention that she has the most amazing boobs that I have ever seen? *swoon!*) The highlight, though, was watching my Owner fuck her. It was really unexpected for me, but that memory still gives me a thrill every time. Sharing Him with H. was everything that I thought it would be, and more. There's something about the fact that my Owner could control and satisfy both of us that makes Him seem so powerful and so sexy. Just knowing that He could please her in that way, and continue to please me beyond my expectations, makes me feel like such a lucky girl. I am more in awe of Him than ever.

Things have continued to be fun and drama-free with H. since then. We're hoping to get together again soon to do all of the things that we didn't get to do the first time around (and for a repeat of some of the highlights). Mostly importantly, my Owner and I are doing great and we're stronger every day.


I'm here! I'm alive! I've just been out of the blogging mood for so long that it was almost impossible to come back. I'm still not sure if I'm going to be posting here regularly, so please check back when you can.

Things with my Owner are going very well. We have been very close and getting on very well. You know how it is normal, slavery continues! The most interesting development is that we met a lovely young woman and shared an amazing evening with her recently. She is very fun, very spontaneous, very sexy (and very bisexual, if I may say). The three of us had so much fun...I just hope that we all can get together again soon because six hours of playing (six! six whole hours!) was no where near enough.

Hope all is well where you are...I'll be in touch soon.



I have heard some young submissives (and even some insecure doms) worry about the attributes that the best Masters just must have. They mention discipline, internal and external, and rope-tying skills and delicious cruelty. But I think my Master's best attribute is something much more benign but still extremely important - His patience.

I am so grateful that He was so calm, understanding and willing to hold my hand this week, even as I threw an unholy hissy fit. I am thankful that He knows that I get scared and that I blame Him for feeling insecure, and that He loves me and reassures me anyway. I am so grateful that He holds me tight to His chest as I thrash and try to get away, tight until I tire and cling to Him again.

And I am most grateful for the fact that He will discipline me this weekend and put me back in my place. That's where I belong.

Such a Long Time

I haven't written here in a while. Life has intruded a little too much lately. He and I continue on. We learn new things every day.

Our biggest challenge lately - okay, so it's my biggest challenge - is how to do things for which there are no road maps. How to find out who you are when no one is like you. How to form your relationship when you don't think like any other couple you know. Blazing trails has never been my strong suit. I've been a conformist all my life and I've never tried to stand out from the crowd. He's a little different, but I know that He's challenged by our path. We're both so in the dark sometimes.

I hope that, as we continue to find our way, we cling to each other in the dark. We may be alone out there in what we're doing, but at least we're together in finding our way.


"I am your slave," I moaned as I rode Him with my collar around my neck. I didn't think before I said it. I just blurted it out as I felt it.

"Yes, yes you are. You've resisted that label, but that is what you are, Kitten," He reassured me.

I started crying, tears of relief and joy and humiliation, all at the same time. He pulled me close and we moved together. He whispered in my ear: "Slave."

Whys and wherfores

My friend and yours, the Discerning Dom, has written on the threesome from the male perspective, including why it's desirable to share your submissive with another man. I understand all of those reasons. I see them expressed by my Owner - He wants to feel that he can use me and own me so completely that I'll fuck another man for him, He wants me to express my inner slut for him, etc.

But why do I want to share Him with another woman? I feel it very strongly, but I cannot explain why. Remember the experience that we had this spring with that other couple? I didn't write about one part of that experience - the part where I sucked my Owner's cock with her. I was just about to start sucking His cock while the couple watched when I was overcome with the strongest feeling - I wanted to see her do it too. I wanted Him to feel that. I wanted to see His cock in her mouth. I wanted to share all of that with her and embrace them both in that moment.

I got my wish. I was so pleased to look up at one point and see my Owner reclining on the bed with his hands behind his head and this look of utter bliss on his face. He looked like the happiest man on earth.

And I have felt that desire many times since. We are about to embark on something new, possibly with someone we both can share. I want so many things with her and with Him, things that I want to see her enjoy with Him and ways that He can please me by pleasuring her. I cannot tease out all of the threads and understand why. I am happy that I feel this way because I think that it means that I'm growing into my relationship and comfortable with all of the ways that my Owner and I can explore our love for each other. (But there is a tiny part of me that thinks that my desires are fucked up and maybe wrong somehow.)

I know that part of it is simple - that I want to share Him just so I can experience his pleasure second-hand. That is part of it, surely, because I am nothing if not a people-pleaser. But I am usually also a jealous person and I would have expected that I would want to please Him myself, to know that I provide Him with the most pleasure in this world, not anyone else. But when push comes to shove, I'm not jealous. I'm generous and I want to share Him.



My Owner and I were pressed together, sweaty and hoarse from screaming.

No, it's not what you think. We were at an amazing concert. It lasted almost three hours and it was exhilarating. The crowd was rowdy and my Owner was working hard to protect me from getting stomped on. I'm barely 5'2", so I can get claustrophobic in crowds of tall people. But He put His arms around me and we were safe in the chaos together.

But not quite alone...

A few songs into the set, He started protecting this girl who was even shorter than me. I saw her in my peripheral vision at first and could see that she was cute. Black top, dark hair, sexy eyes. My Owner put out His arm to make sure she didn't get knocked over and she shot him a grateful smile. She stayed by us, dancing close. I saw her looking at me and at Him. Her hip and arm bumped mine as she danced close to me and she gave me little looks under her eyelashes.

I felt my breathing quicken every time she ground her hips against mine. None of us said anything - I was convinced for a while that I was imaging things, and so was my Owner - but after a while we could both feel the electric energy between the three of us. I cast around for something to say to her, something that would sound flirtatious when screamed over the loud music, but I didn't know what to say. How could I let her know that we thought she was cute and yes, we wanted her like she seemed to want us? It seemed like too complicated a concept to express.

So we just danced and looked at each other, little lingering looks that made me wet. My Owner snaked His arm around my waist and I kissed Him as she watched, wondering if she would like to kiss him too. It was pure fantasy, but I felt all the special possibilities opening up before me in that moment.

And I wonder where she is now.


We did everything that night, except fuck. It was raw and primal and intense; in short, it was everything that we love and everything that characterizes our dynamic.

He snapped His fingers. I crawled to Him.

He kicked me down onto the floor. I cringed.

He spanked me mercilessly. I sobbed until He knew I had had enough.

After it was over, we were spent. We curled up next to each other on the floor. I felt like all of the tension had been wrung out of my body. We looked at each other with those blissed-out looks on our faces, but neither of us had come.

It was perfectly unexpected.

Pent Up

For a number of reasons, we spent last week together but we couldn't have sex.

It wasn't until the end of the week that we realized what that had done to us. In the absence of any sexual play between us, we had taken to sniping at each other. We both were constantly impatient and a tad testy. We didn't even realize that we were doing it.

Until, at the end of the week, after we had both come and were feeling much better, it dawned on me. Whatever sexual energy we regularly exercise, whatever play we used to get the small tensions out, had been all pent up. We needed the release, not just for our sanity but for the health of our relationship.

"Do you think that's a bad thing?," I asked Him once I realized what had happened.

"No, I think it's just part of who we are," He said and held me closer.

I really hope that we don't make that mistake again :-)

Health & Welfare

This isn't really about my relationship with my Owner, but it is about me and my health so I think it's relevant. After all, my well-being is directly in His interest. A happy, healthy submissive makes for a good submissive, yes?

I started exercising seriously over the winter. I finally quit smoking in January after...oh god, this makes me so ashamed...smoking regularly for about 12 years. I loved smoking and was very serious about it. It was a huge part of who I was, even after it became more of a negative than a positive. I finally got sick of feeling awful and smelling awful and, like a truly vain person, didn't want to spend any more time destroying my skin with cigarettes.

So a few weeks after I quit, I started exercising in order to stay in a healthy frame of mind. I haven't touched a cigarette since, although I do dream about smoking quite often. (I guess it's still pretty deeply ingrained in my subconscious.) After I got in decent shape, I started running seriously. I'm totally obsessed with running now - the way it makes my body look and feel, the amazing high I get for hours after an early morning run, the noticeable metabolism rev that I can feel, etc. I even love saying that I'm a runner and having that as part of my identity. I think it speaks of a certain strength of character that I get out there on the road before most people are awake. Something about that makes me feel really alive and really strong.

In July, I ran my first first road race in my life, period. I'm planning on running another in the fall. I'm really, really proud of my accomplishment, if you'll allow me this moment of complete non-humbleness. As I strode across that finish line, I could hardly believe that I was an out-of-shape smoker just seven months before.

Next, I'm thinking about taking up meditation. I'm a bundle of nerves, usually, although running has given me some rare moments of peace in my life as of late. But I would love to be able to find a way to bring more calmness into even more areas of my life. I tried yoga in the past and enjoyed it physically, but I was never able to obtain the serenity necessary to get its full benefits. Do any of you have experience with meditation or have any suggestions?

Rules, Rules, Rules

Some submissives complain about rules set out by their Masters, but maybe I'm different. I love rules. I welcome them and thrive under them. My favorite rule is my bedtime because it helps me so, so much. My Owner really got that one right and I thank my lucky stars every day that I have Him to help me with my sleep schedule or I'd be the most unproductive Kitten ever.

The great thing about any set of rules imposed by my Owner is that the rules usually come with an explanation. My Owner sits down and tells me what the rules are and why the rules are. When I'm most confused and the situation is most uncertain, I love having the rules to carve out a safe course of conduct for my behavior. I love knowing where the boundaries are (better not to inadvertently to step over them) and I love the satisfaction in knowing when I am able to comply with my Owner's wishes to a T.

There are a lot of gray areas in my life, but things are better with my Owner when the lines are drawn in black and white. The clarity and security in knowing where I stand, even in the face of an onerous restriction, warms my submissive little heart in ways that I've only begun to explore. Let me know your feelings about your rules and whether you enjoy them, love/hate them or something else!


He spun out a fantasy as He put me on my knees in front of Him and held me by the neck. That if I left - if we separated for some reason - I wouldn't last a day without Him.

"Correction, you wouldn't last half a day without me," He taunted

In his fantasy, I'd try to forget about Him. I'd fuck someone else and feel like I was high and free for a moment, but it would come crashing down soon enough. I'd be desperate to have Him back.

I didn't want Him to spin that fantasy out anymore. He was using the idea as sexual stimulation, but it just seems like a nightmare to me. I don't want to be without Him. I never want to do that inevitable dive from false euphoria to crumbling resolve to manic desperation. I know that I am unable to be without Him and I didn't want to think about it, even if it was turning Him on.

What He said was true: I would call Him and beg to see Him. He would refuse, but maybe He'd come over anyway. We'd fuck, rough, my face pushed up against the wall as He rammed me from behind. He'd hold my neck and ask me if I liked being free, if I felt good being a whore for someone else because that's what I'd become.

Kneeling before Him, I shook my head and felt the tears come to my eyes. At the same time, I could feel the wetness between my legs and that familiar pulse of lust in my cunt. He let go of my neck and smiled. "Wouldn't last a day," he said softly as He patted my cheek.

Looking for Love

Is He right? Do I need more love than the average girl? Am I unhappy unless I am completely wrapped up and absorbed in someone's love and affection?

Am I needier than I should be?

Perhaps. I remember my profound dissatisfaction with my vanilla relationships. Something was always missing, and not just the spanking. Some sort of emotional comfort and security. I have been in love before, but it was never enough. I always wanted more - more devotion, more attention, more of whatever it was that I wasn't getting.

I've been single and I consider myself independent. But when I met my Owner, I knew that He was what I had been looking for all along. His overflowing heart and boundless affection were perfect for me. He has never been afraid to express how much He loves me and I've never felt like my ardor was too much either.

So, at the end of the day, I guess it doesn't matter if I need too much love. My owner and I are giving (and getting) exactly what we need from each other. But maybe I'm not alone out there, readers? Do those submissively-inclined among you see yourselves as needing more love?


The clothespin was innocently sitting on the kitchen table. I was minding my own business. I wasn't even paying any attention to it. I was just sitting there, enjoying a glass of wine with my Owner. He noticed it, picked it up, turned it over between His fingers. He held it up where I could see it. I felt my breathing deepen and change. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the look in His eye, but I felt my pulse beat a little faster.

He led me over to the couch, where he stripped me of my shirt and pulled my skirt up around my waist. He pinched my right nipple between his fingers until it got hard, then He clamped on the clothespin. He watched me carefully as I squirmed, a little at first and then more as the pressure set in.

He switched to the other nipple, lamenting the fact that He only had one clothespin at hand. He went back and forth, watching, flicking the clothespin and waiting for me to cry out. Then He really started to torture me.

He clipped the clothespin to my clit. If you haven't experienced this sensation - and I hadn't before this moment - then you have no idea the intensity of the feeling. It's somewhere beyond pain, it's more like a searing white lightening bolt. And when He forced three fingers inside of me at the same time? I howled like I was being skinned alive.

I also dripped all over His fingers, down His hand, everywhere. After that, we fucked like it was the first time, or the last time. I want the clothespins again, I want Him on top of me on the floor, pumping deep into me, I want His hand on my throat and his breath hot on my ear.

I want Him and I cannot wait until next time.


No matter how much control you think you've surrendered, there comes a time when you realize how much farther there is to go. There comes a time when something more is demanded of you and you give it, even though you didn't think it was possible.

I can't explain what happened - even if my Owner hadn't forbidden me from talking about it, I couldn't describe it. But I need only say that it shook my understanding of how powerful He is and how connected we are. It makes me wonder what either of us would be without the other, as if my whole being depends on His existence on this planet. That sounds over-dramatic, but these are dramatic times between us.

Oh, I can tell you this small part...

He made me come with his mind.

About Last Night

Last night, I fucked someone other than my Owner.

I met him by the pool at the resort on my vacation. I saw him looking at me from across the lounge chairs. His eyes followed me as I walked from my seat to the pool. When I got out, I approached him. I put out my hand and invited him for a drink in my room, which was right nearby.

We didn't touch until we were alone in the room. I sat next to him on the couch and put my drink on the table. I waited for him to make a move, to realize that we weren't there to chat. He kissed me and pulled me closer. His eyes were wide as I undid my bikini top and let it fall to the floor in between us. I knelt in front of him and pulled his cock from his pants.

As we moved to the bed, he marveled at how he couldn't believe that this was happening. I smiled and straddled him on the bed. As I slid down onto him, he asked my name. "Who are you?," he wondered, "What's your name, even?" I put my finger to his lips as I fucked him slowly. "Shh," I moaned in his ear, "You ask too many questions."

He moaned loudly as I slid off of his cock and knelt over him to take him into my mouth. He moaned even more loudly when I fingered my own asshole as I sucked on him. When he came hard in my mouth, my cunt clenched tight and I came too.

He groaned softly and buried his face in my hair as we laid next to each other on the bed in the late afternoon sunlight. "Can I see you again? My friends won't believe that this happened," he said.

"Sure, maybe you should bring one along next time..."


"So, that's how I'd do it," I told Him as we laid side-by-side in a post-orgasmic haze. "If the time is right and you give the okay, that's exactly what I'd do with him."

"You'd do it just like that?," He panted, looking at me with lust in His eyes.

"Yes, and I'll tell you all about it later," I said as we started to fuck again.


I was in a giggly mood. We were cuddling on his bed. He started fumbling with the top button of my jean skirt and tickling my stomach in the process. "Get this off," He joked and He tried the button again, with no success.

"There are, like, eight more of those," I told him, pointing to the buttons that run all the way down the front of the skirt.

"Fuck that," He laughed and threw up his hands. "It's like a puzzle!" I laughed at his exasperation. He is adorable.

He laughed too and we dissolved into giggles as I undid the skirt. He pulled me close and kissed me, still laughing.

It's good to be back.


Don't be alarmed - I'm only going away for a week.

My Owner and I said goodbye last night and it was very difficult. We spent a lot of time last night curled up together on the couch. Neither one of us wanted to let go. It was getting late and I had to leave, but we just couldn't stop holding each other close. I was teary-eyed and He looked so sad.

Eventually, I got up to leave. He stood me in front of him and stared at me for a long time. I wasn't sure if He was going to let me go or if He was going to do something to me. He just had that glint in his eye. He snapped his fingers and I knew to drop to my knees. He stroked my hair and then ordered me to bow at his feet.

I pressed my face against the tops of his feet and, suddenly, I was hit with how much I didn't want to be without Him for the next week. I started sobbing, humbled by kneeling in front of him. I swept my hair across his feet as I clutched him around the ankles. My tears fell on the ground in front of Him. I could feel his hands caressing my back as I cried.

After a moment, He went around behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I stayed bent over as He unbuttoned my pants and pulled them down around my knees. I was breathless from crying and now the anticipation. I was reeling with the shift from soft sorrow to arousal and passion.

He entered me from behind, speaking to me gently and still caressing my back. "Daddy's here, don't worry Kitten, it's okay Kitten," He cooed as we fucked slowly, feeling each other intimately for the last time for a week. "I love you."


I keep trying to write some smut, but everything I write seems to be about women. I admit it - ever since our experience in March, my bisexuality has been rearing its pretty head. To my Owner's glee, I've been leering at girls everywhere we go, including a the cute blonde at the book store and the quirky check-out girl at the grocery store. I'm nowhere near open enough to approach these girls, but I am expending a lot of mental energy thinking about them.

A few weeks ago, I went to a gay pride parade in my local city with a gay friend of mine. He has been to a lot of these types of events since he came out, but it was my first pride parade. I was really bowled over. There were so many women who like women there - where have they been hiding? I never see them as I travel the city during the week or go out on weekends. But there they were, kissing and flirting in public. This community has really been hidden from me and I felt like I had just discovered a secret world.

If it's possible, that experience set my thoughts toward women even more. Their beautiful bare shoulders and their long bare legs on a summer day...their soft breasts and lips pressed against me...their hair tickling my back as they lean over me...their fingers probing inside my wetness...their moans in my ear as I draw out their orgasm...

*Ahem.* Sorry, I can get a little carried away. Care to hear more?

Year One/Year Two

It's amazing to me how different the second year of our relationship has been from the first year. That first year was so unlike any time in a relationship that I've ever had - scary and unknown, but also innocent and sweet. Everything was murky then, where we were going and how we were going to get there. We spent so much of our energy figuring out our roles, and then figuring out how to stick with them, and then figuring out how to change the things that didn't work for us.

Now, in our second year, things are so much more natural. After some trouble that we had in December, we came back stronger than ever. That was a big blow-up, but I think we needed that - the same way that forests need cleansing fires in order to grow. We've been in complete sync ever since. Our second year has been one of improvements and growth and great new experiences.

I feel like we've finally figured it out and settled into our roles. I call him "Owner" so instinctively that I don't realize when I do it out in public, or in front of my friends. Everyone knows that he calls me "Kitten," even if they don't really know what that means. We don't even think about it much anymore. I still get mouthy sometimes, but I know my place and I know what to expect. He is comfortable in his dominance, so much so that He doesn't always have to use a heavy hand in order to keep me in control. The best part is is that I feel like we're on the same side, always. It's us together in everything and I know that we're going exactly where we need to go, together.

I think the key to how well this has worked out is that we let these roles, the rules and our whole dynamic emerge organically. We didn't have a blueprint from the established S&M scene or anyone else's relationship as a model of how to do things. I'm sure there are examples out there on the internet, where there is invariably always someone to tell you that their way is the "true" way. But we've done it on our own and managed to find our own way. It might not work for anyone else, so please don't take this as advice. We were inexperienced coming into this, so our lack of expectations helped us; obviously, an experienced person would be frustrated with some of the bumbling and false starts to be disappointing.

I'm feeling unbelievably optimistic today, which is funny because I've used this blog so much as a place to air my negative feelings. But the thing is: I know now that we He says that He'll own me forever, that He means it and that it is possible. It is possible. At this point, anything is possible.

Fight, fight, fight

Thanks to subtletimes for the topic suggestion. She asked for the details of our last "fight/argument."

I talked this over with my Owner and we were basically unable to come up with anything. We squabble from time to time, but we haven't had a big fight over actual relationship issues in about six months. We disagree and have difficultly communicating every couple of weeks, which I think is normal. Also, I tend to get overtired late at night because I'm on a pretty strict schedule for work, while He's more of a night owl. By 11 pm, I can get like an overtired toddler - I cycle from hyper, to comatose, to crying in the span of an hour. He knows my moods and can read me pretty well, so He tries to put me to bed before I get out of control. But I still get crabby sometimes and lose my patience when I speak to Him, which is never good.

But those occasional incidents are not really fights, per se. Not like the time six months into our relationship when I got so angry at Him that I put his belongings in a paper bag and drove over to His house with them. I intended to throw the bag at Him and never see Him again. Hilariously, I made the thirty-minute drive to His house that night in about fifteen minutes. He joked later that I drove at pyscho speed! I know that I really offended Him that night because I was just going to throw our relationship away because I was upset. It took a long time to recover from that, but I learned not to react that way in the future.

The oddest thing is that I can't even remember what it was that we were arguing about that night. I just remember that in the middle of a tense moment, we were standing by my car and He went to throw his gum out onto the ground. He looked at me and said in this super-serious voice: "Time out. I need to ask you something." I nodded, thinking that we were about to make some life-changing relationship decision. Then He said, "Can racoons choke on gum?," and we both started cracking up. He was so concerned that a racoon was going to come by and choke on his discarded gum that He couldn't even think about what we were arguing about at that moment. It was so funny, and it diffused all the tension so that we could resolve whatever it was that we were arguing about in the first place.

So, thanks again for the topic. My Owner's suggestion for topics is that I write some good old-fashioned smut, so you have that to look forward to sometime soon. Keep your suggestions coming in by e-mail or in the comments!


Unlike my Owner, who never runs out of great kinky ideas, I'm finding it difficult to come up with things to write about here as of late. Maybe you noticed? If so, I apologize. It's not that there isn't anything going on, because there is, or that we're not doing anything new and interesting, because we are. I could write about the amazing anal sex that we had to start off our Saturday, or the way that He made me come for about 10 minutes straight yesterday, but haven't we already covered that? Maybe I've just lost that blogging mojo. Help me get it back, dear readers? Leave suggestions, questions and/or topics of conversation in the comments or drop me an e-mail. Let's see if I can get back on track.


I got my first tattoo a few weeks ago. The tattoo is an interpretation of a drawing of several naked women who appear to be floating, each with long dark flowing hair. I think the tattoo is beautifully done and I am very happy to have this tattoo after years of indecision.

I decided on this design during the past year as I started to come to terms with my sexuality, not just my dedication to submission but my bisexuality. It is something that I have kept hidden from those closest to me - and from myself, even - for years. My desire for women is one of my first sexual memories and my earliest sexual experiences were with women. But, for whatever reasons based on my repressive childhood or religious upbringing, I always kept that hidden away.

I still carry a great deal of shame about these experiences and I am not open about my bisexuality. This is something that my Owner and I have been discussing a lot and will be working on. I hope to be more open one day, but I am still in the closet with most everyone in my life. But the tattoo is a semi-public way for me to celebrate my love for women and this part of myself. It is a hope for the future, that I one day can proudly display and be comfortable in my own skin.


Oh, how I love my shiny new vibrator! I broke my last one, or it died a natural death. Either way, it served me well for several years. On Monday, my Owner and I bought me a new one.

I don't need a fancy vibrator with attachments and probes and bells and whistles. I just need a smooth, continuously vibrating toy that I can apply to my clit. We bought a basic one, one that will hopefully last another few years...although with the way we used it that first day, I don't hold out much hope for a long, vibrating life.

We cleaned it and put it right to use when we got home. I was already wet with anticipation. He laid between my legs and put his face up close to my cunt to watch me play. When I came, He pushed my hand back down and made sure that I came two more times right away.

I wasn't sated yet. I begged Him to fuck me as I continued to writhe with the vibrator buzzing against me. He obliged, entering me and instructing me to keep the vibrator against my clit. I held it between us where we could both feel it, and I could tell from the look in His eyes that he really enjoyed the feel of the toy as he thrust into me. I came even harder on his cock than I had before - an incandescent orgasm that felt like a total white-out of feeling below my waist. Before I could stop gasping, He came inside me with a loud moan.

I set the vibrator down on the bed next to us. "So, I think that was a good purchase," He understated. All I could do was nod in agreement :-)

Family Matters

I've been having problems with my family lately and I know that it comes from things that I'm going through in my relationship. My parents haven't changed - they are still the same over-involved parents that they have always been. If they had their way, they would continue to be super involved in my life, there would be no boundaries, and they would be the figures looming largest in my life.

I'm 29 years old, so that's probably not a healthy situation. I know that some people live geographically close to their parents and are really involved with their families in a healthy way, but that's not what it would be like for us. I see how they are with my sister, who lives in the same town. They are really involved with every part of her life, which she doesn't seem to mind. But I could never do that. I've resisted a bit in the past, but now I'm in a state of all-out rebellion because of my relationship. I'm directly challenging my parents because the most important person in my life - the person I go to when I need help or guidance and the one who is in charge of what I do - is now my Owner, not them.

I've been more vocal when they try to encroach on my turf, partly because I know that He sees them as manipulative and controlling and He has encouraged me to push back. Obviously, He has an interest in this change in me: his control is solidified as their control on me is loosened. But I don't think things are as sinister as that for Him. Instead, I think he sees (as my therapist sees) that I'm on the road toward accepting who I really am and that part of that journey involves separating from my parents. It's just causing all of this tension and I've been pulling away. There's so much about my relationship that I can't tell them anyway, but now I sense that they are truly unhappy with the way the situation has turned out.

I don't know where we go from here. I'm trying to assert my independence and eventually get to a place where I don't need their approval, but that's very difficult for me. I'm still terribly hung up on the fact that I've been seeking their approval my whole life. And when I realized this week in therapy that I'll never get it because I'll never be good enough for them, no matter what I do, it practically broke my heart. So that place where I am happy enough with who I am that I no longer need their approval, that place where I can relate to them without feeling torn apart, seems so far off from where I am right now. I hope that we can continue with our relationship in the meantime and make things better, but I see rough times ahead.


"You feel very cared for right now, don't you?," He asked. We stood in the aisle of the grocery store, semi-oblivious to the shoppers around us. He was helping me with a health issue that had come up, something that I tried (and failed) to handle on my own.

I nodded and continued to clutch his hand in both of mine. He led me toward the checkout, steering the cart with one hand and letting me cling to the other.

"Kitten, Kitten, Kitten...what am I going to do with you?," He teased gently as I nuzzled my face against his shoulder in the checkout line.

"Keep me?," I asked quietly with a smile on my face.

"Yes, I think I'll keep you," He said and pulled me closer.


From time to time, I get to thinking about this blog and its place in my life. I look at my stats and look back over my posting history. On the whole, this blog has been a positive experience. On the other hand, there have been a few hiccups along the way. I was especially hurt a few months ago by an online flurry of negativity. It really hit home and it upset me.

No more.

Now? Please. I welcome my visitors from other corners of the web. Please, feel free to poke around and read about my experiences. You might find that you can learn something. Or you might continue to judge me without any basis whatsoever. Either way, I'll keep being owned and happy, and you'll keep being...well, whatever it is that makes you so damn angry about what goes on in my bedroom.


It's the Little Things

Him: Are you taking your vitamins kitten?
Me: Sometimes, yes
Him: Kitten. Every day. Ok?
Me: Yes sir
Him: Good girl. Try hard for me ok?
Me: I will, Owner. I'm sorry
Him: It's ok Kitten. I just want you to be nice and healthy
Me: I know, thank you for looking out for me :)


I knelt on the floor with His belt around my neck. He took the length that he had been using to pull me to his cock and wrapped it around my neck again. He pulled it tight and put the end between my teeth. I gripped it there, afraid of what he was doing, afraid of how tightly he was pulling the belt around my neck. He wiped his cock on my face, mixing the saliva with the tears on my cheeks.

I trembled. Was this my punishment for last night? Was he still angry at me, and would his anger grow out of control until he pushed me harder than I was able to go? What was going to happen? This had all happened so suddenly.

I felt the red mark on my stomach where he had whipped me with the belt as I laid on the bed, before he dragged me onto the floor. I knew that I would have a mark that would last days. I knew that I deserved it, that I should take some of his anger as payment for what I had done.

But how much? Where would he take me this time?


Would you believe me if I told you that my Owner can make his eyes go almost completely black at will? That he can dilate his pupils, and just as quickly make them go back to normal?

Well, it doesn't really matter if you believe me or not. I saw it happen.

One minute he was growling and clawing at my back, ordering me to ride him facing away from him as he swatted at my ass. He hit me harder and harder, until I leaped off of his cock in pain. He trapped me as I tried to scramble away and bit me hard on the shoulder. I arched my back and cried out, and then he bit me one each breast as he pinned me down. I cowered away from him, sneaking a look up at him snarling above me. And his eyes were completely black, like he was possessed or a vampire. He looked just barely in control and I was afraid.

I put my hands over my face, but instead of attacking again, he laid calmly next to me and stroked my hair. I uncovered my eyes and saw him looking down at me with his warm, chocolate eyes back to normal. In that moment, his pupils had retracted and he was feigning a look of innocence.

I still don't know how he did it (and if it is some sort of trick that you all know, I'd rather you kept it from me). He claims that I imagined it, like so many other things that I have seen that I know that he has done that he claims he knows nothing about. Like the mind reading, I know that that is real. But this? How could this be real? But at the same time, how could I have imagined it?

Never Have I Ever

I never have been able to figure out where certain of our lines are. It's not that they are shifting or that He hides them from me, but just that things are too complex to be able to pinpoint where the lines are most times.

Like, where is the line between "I listen to you because I value your opinion" and "I am deciding against you, even though you disagree"?

Where is the line between "Trust that I will never take advantage of you" and "Because I'm the Owner and I say so"?

I'm guessing that He would say that often both rules apply at the same time, at his discretion. That our relationship encompasses lots of mutually-contradictory rules that we somehow manage to follow. It all makes sense to Him, so I should probably just go along and stop wondering. But I am an inquisitive Kitten and I'm constantly taking us apart to see how we work.


"Touch yourself and tell me when you're going to come," He said as he laid next to me, watching. I started playing with my clit and felt my pussy get wetter and wetter. I was moaning softly. I looked up at him and asked to come. "Get closer," He ordered and I kept playing. "Can I come now? Please?," I begged. He paused and I grew closer to orgasm. "No, stop," He said suddenly and I pulled my hand away sharply.

Then He did it again, allowing me to get close to coming and ordering me to stop. Each time I pulled away my hand quickly, but reluctantly. I knew that I would get a slap if I didn't stop, but I was unhappy about it.

Then He crouched between my legs and teased my inner thighs with his tongue. "Do you want to come?," He asked lightly. "Yes, please," I begged breathlessly. After what felt like an eternity, He finally touched his tongue to my clit and moved it unbearably slowly. "Fingers, please," I gasped, indicating that I wanted him to finger-fuck me while he licked my clit (a surefire way to orgasm for me). He slid two fingers into my pussy. I was just about to come. I begged, "Please, please, can I? Daddy please?" He said yes, and I felt the first wave about to break. That's when He pulled away and out of me.

I looked up in shock and squirmed with pent-up sexual frustration. Was he denying me? He laid next to me and touched my face.

"When you were about to come, what did I do?"

"You stopped," I said plainly, wondering if it was a trick question.

"And when I tell you to stop walking and wait, what should you do?"

"I should stop." Oh, I knew what this was. This was punishment.

"Good, then now you know how to stop. I just showed you," He said a touch smugly. "Maybe I should let you touch yourself and come while you suck my cock?," He asked.

"I would like that, please," I said tentatively.

"I bet you would. No, it's time for bed."

My mouth fell open. I had to come, I needed to come or I would be awake and out-of-sorts all night! He had never denied me an orgasm before. I couldn't believe it. A tear leaked out of my eye and I brushed it away, embarrassed. I sat up and smoothed my nightgown back over my thighs in a defeated gesture. Just as I was about to get up, He grabbed my arm.

"Oh, okay, you can come once, but I hope you learned your lesson," He chided with a wag of his finger. I smiled and crawled eagerly toward Him.


We were angry at each other when we laid down for a nap. It was dim and gray in the room, and we laid down on opposite ends of the king-sized bed. We weren't even close to touching, which was odd because we usually sleep with our limbs intertwined and our faces pressed up against each other.

As we slept and the room grew dark with the evening, we let some of our anger go. We woke up close to each other. For a minute after I woke up, I forgot that I was supposed to be mad.

"Hi," I sighed sleepily.

"Hi," He said with a sad note in his voice.

Then I remembered and turned away. He reached out a hand and slid it over my hip, placing his palm flat on my stomach and pulling me to him. I tried to hold a grudge, but I really couldn't remember why I was supposed to be mad anymore. I slid over next to him. I let him cradle me in his arms and I tucked my head into the crook of his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," He whispered into my hair.

"I am too, I'm sorry," I murmured in response. We both sighed and He tightened his arms around my body.

The Aftermath

That title is so ominous, but the aftermath of our weekend fun with another couple was pure hilarity.

We all left the hotel together, chatting easily in the elevator. We breezed through the lobby, impervious to the stares from the staff. Maybe they knew why we were checking out early, or maybe my skirt was just too short. In any case, I didn't care. I loved being with my Owner and this couple, out and comfortable with my relationship for the first time.

We parted in the parking lot with hugs. She whispered in my ear as she embraced me, and I knew that neither of us would forget our special time together.

As He and I got in the truck together and drove away, we burst out into giggles. "What?," He asked, laughing. "Nothing, what's with you?," I laughed back. "Oh, nothing," and He kept laughing. We were tired and a little giddy and oddly energized.

"Are you hungry?," He asked as we approached a Burger King on the highway.

"No, but I'll get a drink," I said. (For the record, I don't usually eat fast food. It's bad for a Kitten's figure.)

"Ok, but I'm getting Burger Shots," He said teasingly.

"No way!"

"Oh, I am. We just had a foursome and I am getting Burger Shots!," He announced.

"Okay, I guess you deserve them. For your efforts," I giggled.

Our spirits were high as we ate the little burgers in the truck, laughing and joking lightly about the events of our evening. To His delight, He even got me to eat two little burgers - I was hungry too!

And even though we were tired when we got home, we fucked before bed anyway. We held each other close and looked into each others' eyes as we came, like we knew that we had shared a once-in-a-lifetime experience.


I bent over my Owner's lap and closed my eyes. I touched my fingertips to the ground to steady myself, but I needn't have bothered. My Owner had his arm gripped tightly around my waist. He had the paddle in his hand - I knew because I had brought it over to him - and he was ready. Her Master sat across from me on the edge of the bed. He leaned forward intently as we got ready. She was across the room, in the corner, facing the wall.

My Owner started paddling me and I took a deep breath with every blow. I felt her Master lean closer. He began to speak to me.

He told me that I was an inconsiderate bitch for what I had done. He called me those names. He punished me with his words as my Owner punished me with the paddle. They formed this united force - one dominant field of energy, working together on my punishment. I knew that I was wrong, I knew that I deserved this. I was only shocked that her Master knew exactly what to say...that he said exactly what my Owner had said the week before when I got into trouble in the first place. He knew. Her Master just knew.

I managed not to cry, I'm not sure how. A beating like that should easily reduce me to a sobbing mess. She thinks it was because she was there to take some of my pain. She might be right. The strength of her kneeling there, hearing each blow and my attempts not to cry out, she absorbed all of the energy coming off of me. Just as my Owner and her Master were channeling each other, she and I were right there together, slaves in pain.


Sometimes I wish that I didn't doubt or question. But I do. The doubts creep up at the oddest times, like last night. I don't know why it happened because I was feeling so good after my latest therapy session and my amazing weekend, but it happened anyway. I couldn't take His comment that he is allowed to do X because he is the Owner while I am not allowed to do X because I am the Kitten. I wanted to get off of the phone right away when he said that. I didn't want to listen anymore.

My emotional reaction to his statement brought up all kinds of questions that I wish I could say are gone at this point. I thought that I'd be over asking "why" after almost a year and a half. I know that that's not long in the grand scheme of things, but I thought that those questions would just go away at some point. I've felt stronger and more sure of myself lately, but I still push back and I still challenge.

I am a hard nut to crack, I guess. Or maybe I'm just like everyone else and others cover it better. Who's to say what the usual process is for any of us, anyway? Maybe I'm ahead of the curve or maybe I'm a slow learner. I wish I didn't feel the weight of these questions so much, but what can I expect when I carry these questions around by myself all the time?

Sometimes I wish I wasn't this way, that I could be happy with a normal life. I wish that I could turn off those voices in my head that want pain or degradation. Sometimes I wish that I didn't know about S&M so that I could go back to pretending to be a happy vanilla person. I wish that I could accept myself as I am.

I wish that I could accept myself. I wish that I didn't have to be ashamed or afraid. I wish that I could feel normalcy in this life. I wonder if it will happen over time. Right now, it seems like a roadblock. I need to move forward, move through it. I don't exactly know how.

Until I figure that out, I'm afraid that I will continue to test Him, and test myself. I don't want to be a pain, at least but I know that He's not ready to give up on me any time soon. I just feel bad. I could be so much better for Him if I could just get over myself.

The Room, II

She laid on her stomach with her arms folded along the small of her back and her feet in the air. I helped her Master fasten the cuffs to hogtie her. I slid a small pillow under her head and knelt on the bed beside her as he slid the dildo into her cunt.

I stroked her back and watched her hips start to move against his hand. My eyes were on her, but my mind was floating away, spinning out all of the possibilities. I snapped back to attention when her Master called my name, telling me to take his place.

He put the dildo in my hand and I stared down at it. My Owner came up behind me and guided my hand toward her cunt. I slid the dildo in slowly and heard her sigh. I started fucking her, building up to a good rhythm along with her hips. "Fuck her like a man, Kitten," her Master ordered from his place beside her. My Owner stood behind me, whispering small words of encouragement.

I fucked her harder and watched her writhe on the bed in front of me. My mouth was hanging open in awe and disbelief. Was I really doing this?

I could feel her wetness dripping out of her, and she started begging to be allowed to come. The moment her Master said yes, she suddenly she seized upon the dildo and cried out. I could feel her coming as I fucked her harder, my Owner's hand resting gently on the back of my neck.

The Room

She pulled my hand toward her and pressed it against her breastbone. I tilted my forehead toward hers and smiled shyly.

We were curled together in the middle of the big hotel room bed. Candles flickered all around us. It was late - what time was it again? I had lost track - and we were breathing together quietly. I was nearly naked, but I didn't notice.

"I know you're nervous," she whispered, "but you could kiss me sometime before it's time to go." She giggled and bit her lip. I laughed with her, propping my head up on my elbow. I brushed the hair back from her forehead. "Come here, you," I sighed, and I touched my lips to hers.

They were so soft, they made me melt. I remembered suddenly why I love women so much. (And the beautiful thing about them is that their soft lips are just the beginning.)

We kissed deeper and deeper, winding our hands in each others' hair. When our lips parted, we laid back against the pillows, touching hands.

"Do you think they're watching us?," I whispered.

"Definitely, but I'm not going to look," she laughed.

"What are you girls talking about over there?," He called playfully from his seat on the other side of the room.

"Girl talk?," her Master asked and the two men laughed.

We looked up and laughed as they came over to us. We kissed again.

This and That

It would be one thing if He just made me do what I do not want to do by force. If I could just be unhappy about it and get over it in my own time, or maybe resent him for it. Blame him and pretend like I don't want this life where he has complete control over me. That would be an easy way to be the victim here and escape the darkness of my own choices. If he forced me, that would be one thing.

But that's not how it works. He makes me do things, but he wants me to like it. He explains and reasons with me so that I understand. And he does not let me pout about it, or drag my feet while I serve. I have to accept it, I have to smile and I have to be happy. I cannot fake that. I must process my resistance quickly and I must choose this life, over and over again. I must say, "Yes, Sir" and I must sound like I mean it.

It must be strange, and strangely powerful, to be Him. To expect to get his way all the time and to expect me to always be happy about it. If he were any other man, I'd say that the least he could do would be to let me be upset, but he's not any other man. Because he is this man, he gets everything he wants, eventually.


We have these funny little moments. Like where He makes a joke at my expense and I laugh, then I make a joke at his expense and am met with stony silence. Because it is not funny when I do it. And the difference is that one of us is the Owner and the other one of us is owned. And we are different.

That's cute, when he pulls up and reminds me that we are not equal, even where innocuous banter is concerned. I fake-sigh like I am put out, but I am not put out. It doesn't feel like a big deal. And I want Him to be over me or I wouldn't have chosen this life.

But there are other times when the disparity between us seems like a very big deal. When I cannot do something that He can do just because He says so...that is very difficult, especially if it affects something major in my life or requires a big shift in my behavior. It may mean that I have to take what I would never be allowed to dish out. It may mean that I am not heard when I have something to say. It may mean that I do not get to decide things for myself. It often means that. It's these moments when I am not comforted in my submission and I struggle to locate the strength that I am supposed to find here.

I read something today that said that sometimes freedom is more important than happiness. That made me pause. I give up my freedom every day and sometimes it feels like what remaining freedoms I may have are being wrung out of me. I choose enslavement because it brings me happiness. Would I be better off, if unhappy, if I were free? I can't see how being deliberately unhappy on my own would be beneficial, but I haven't lived a free life in quite a while. Maybe I have lost touch with what that would feel like. I can imagine it and it seems a very hollow way to live.

But anyway. I know that this is my choice and I choose to stay every day. Some days it is just a little more difficult than others.

The Other

I sit on his lap facing away from him, my legs spread wide and my feet planted outside his. I am only wearing a pair of panties and I can feel his chest against my naked back. He slides his hand into my panties and slowly teases my clit with his fingers as his other hand reaches to pinch my nipples. I arch back against him and he slides his fingers inside me.

"Put your fingers in her mouth," my Owner says from his seat across the room. The man brings his fingers, wet from my cunt, up to my lips and I lick them hungrily. I keep my eyes on my Owner the whole time.

I turn away from my Owner, toward the man and face him on his lap. He pulls my panties aside as he enters me. I can hear my Owner stroking his cock and moaning softly. The man puts his hands under my ass cheeks and guides me slowly up and down on his cock.

I turn back to look at my Owner, a smile on my lips. "Such a good girl," He moans, "Such a good girl for me."

Disclaimer: This is just a fantasy. But a girl can dream, can't she?


After what happened a couple of weeks ago and all of the negative attention I received for this bog, my Owner sought out the blog and read it for the first time. He didn't read the whole thing - that would take forever! - but he did read enough to get a sense of what goes on here. He wants to make sure that I am doing okay. He is always looking out for me.

He's not reading everyday, just checking in from time to time. (Hi Owner! I love you!). I'm glad that he's keeping an eye on me. I thought that I would be upset that my last private space is now His n but I'm not. I'm happy to share this him and give him a little insight into my thoughts. I'm feeling comfortable in my submission and welcome this extra bit of control. And I know that he doesn't want to interfere here, nor does he want this blog to devolve into a tool for airing our grievances at each other. Our communication needs to stay open and genuine and it needs to stay out of the public eye.

I'm hoping that once he becomes comfortable with the blog, he will consider contributing something from his perspective. I know that he sees some of what we do in a radically different way than I do and I'd love to explore that with you all. Plus he's really hot and effortlessly creative in his dominance. Where does he get his devious ideas like his idea for Silent Kitten day (a whole day of no talking and completely silent submission for me)? Inquiring minds want to know!

So watch this space...I know He is!


I was in a real state last Thursday. I had an unexpectedly stressful day and was facing a grueling presentation on Friday morning. I was not prepared to handle the day's stress and I just wanted to curl up and hide away from the world. I didn't want to face my responsibilities, even though I knew that I had to.

That night, I was in a funk even before I got home and met up with Him. I had looked forward to seeing him all week and didn't want to cancel on him, although my instinct was to spend the evening alone, stewing in my bad mood. He saw the cross look on my face from the second that we hugged and I worried about how my distracted state would upset our evening together.

Instead of letting me spend the entire evening in a funk, he took matters into his own hands. He pulled me into the bedroom and laid me down on the bed next to him. I was suddenly grateful for the distraction. I put my lips near his ear and told him that I needed him to hurt me. It seemed like the only way to rearrange my head. His eyes flashed and he moved toward me quickly.

He was unrelenting, slapping my face and holding me down. He dragged me to the edge of the bed so that he could fuck my face, ignoring the tears rolling up my face as he hung my head over the edge of the bed. Already, I could feel the tension slipping out of my body. I could hear the quiet hum in my head as I scrambled to keep up with him and I let everything but the moment slip away from me. I heard my therapist in my head, urging me to just breathe and be present in my submission. I relaxed every muscle of my body.

He draped me over his knee and started to spank me. I sobbed with relief with every spank, gripping the arm that held me in place over his lap. He took out my collar and I expected him to put it on me, if only to reinforce the calm feeling of my submission, but he whipped my ass with it instead. I wasn't sure at the time, but I thought that he was using the buckle side and it stung very badly. The metal bit into me and I took deep breath after deep breath to stay there, to let everything flow through me.

Finally, he placed a pillow in front of me and urged me to hit it. I had mentioned earlier that I needed to take up kickboxing to get out all of my frustration from the day, and I guess this was his version of that. I felt silly at first, unconvincingly punching the pillow with my fists, but soon I got the hang of it. I pounded the pillow as I let out the last of my tension, crying out with each blow, and let the final tears slide down my cheeks.

I slid down to the floor in front of him and rested my head on his knee. I held onto his leg as I panted. He smiled down at me. "Feel better, Kitten?" I nodded happily. It was as if my terrible day had never happened.


I stood in front of him, completely naked except for the collar. He looked up at me, his eyes wide. I wasn't sure what he was thinking - was he afraid or in awe? - but something certainly had changed. The way he was looking at was indescribable.

He touched his fingertips to my skin and I shivered. He slowly started touching me all over, my breasts and stomach, legs, turning me around, up and down my back. He kissed me softly and my skin felt hot under his lips. He was being so gentle and so careful. It was like he was afraid to break me, but I felt stronger than ever with his collar around my neck.

He laid me down on the bed and spread my legs apart. His mouth touched my cunt and I could feel my climax building already. As he gently worked his tongue on my clit, he slid two fingers into me.

I felt for the collar around my neck as I came, like I couldn't believe that this had finally happened. All the work that I had done over the last fourteen months, all the struggle and the joy, had finally come to this one moment. It was like a singularity. Everything that came before built up to this point, coming together, coalescing faster and faster, until it reached maximum pressure and then bam...and now everything that comes after spins out from this point.

In many ways things feel exactly the same. Except that now I have his collar to hold at night when I'm scared.

About Control

To me, the most interesting part of my relationship is the control.  The physical elements aren't awfully groundbreaking, although they are exciting.  The physical part isn't hard for me to understand.  The control is different.  

In a way, I have a closer connection to the control than to the physical element of my relationship.  I crave it more, and more often.  It is something that I am connected to in a very visceral manner.  The fact that the nature of the craving for this control is somewhat a mystery to me is really puzzling and is something that I have been working through.  Because I am at the point where I have accepted all of my desires, I need to become more comfortable and fully understand control before I can move forward.  I am right on the cusp of that.  I need to do this to move ahead.

As an initial matter, what I mean when I speak about control: I mean all of the non-physical elements of our dynamic, those ones that occur outside of context of the bedroom.  I mean any rules or restrictions that I have, my bedtime, the guidelines that I follow when I speak to Him and any general guidelines on my behavior.  Occasionally the expression of His control can be harsh, but most often it is caring and benevolent.  He enforces my bedtime in order to help me look after myself and put my health first.  It is sweet and welcome for me.  On the whole, I don't think my rules are that onerous.  What is interesting is that they ebb and flow, increasing in intensity when I need them and relaxing when I need to focus elsewhere.  He is very in tune to my emotional state and uses control to serve his ends as my Owner, but He is also always careful to keep me in balance.

What do I feel when I am controlled?  Maybe if I can trace this backward I can figure it out.  In essence, I feel safe.  I feel like I have been wrapped in a warm blanket.  It is very comforting.  Sometimes when I am having a hard time, I will ask Him to speak to me over the phone in that tone of voice that he uses, the one that only I get to hear, and I am immediately calm.  We speak about feeling his hand on the back of my neck, which he physically does when we are together, but it also has a metaphorical component.  I am secure and guided by his hand on my neck.  I am comforted.

And I do not feel alone.  I think that is the most important part.  I have lived on my own since I left my parents' house at 18.  Several years ago, I left school and have been really on my own, with no professors or mentors looking after my welfare.  The years before I met Him were a challenge for me as I struggled to have that warm connection with a family and community that you do not get as an independent adult floating free in the world.  There was no one looking out for me but me, and that was a very scary feeling.  

Yes, I got to work on time every day and paid my bills like an adult, but those were just the superficial parts of taking care of myself.  There was an emotional component of being on my own that I found very difficult to handle.  I wondered, will I float through my entire life like this by myself?  The world is so big and I am so small.  There is no one who cares for me.

It's funny, because I lived with a man several years ago.  I never felt more alone than the two years that we lived together.  Yet I never feel alone now.  He is always with me because I carry Him in my heart everywhere I go.  I see Him less than the man I used to live with, but I feel less alone.  That is the difference between this relationship and my previous vanilla ones.  I am the center of His world, and He is the center of mine.  We are never alone, spiraling around the universe, untethered.  We bring each other back down to earth.  We make each other safe.

So the control is an unbelievably positive thing in my life, one that is about connection and emotional security.  It tells me that he loves me and that I am special and that He will always be here for me.  He has taken on the responsibility to care for me and I will never be alone again.  We take care of each other and we shelter each other from the world.  We are safe and we are forever.  

It is love.  I just know that it is.       

Love is...

Valentine's Day is quickly approaching. I don't pay this particular holiday much attention since every day is a celebration of the love between my Owner and I, but I have been reflecting on the nature of love lately.

I recently read one person's definitive statement of what love is. It was a narrow definition and didn't describe my experience at all. And it excluded all of the other types of love that I feel in my life - the love that I have for my family, friends, old lovers, and all those who I may love in some capacity in the future as my relationship grows.

But the love for my Owner...that is the most difficult to describe because there is so much there. Just off the top of my head, I would describe our love the following ways:

  • Our love is accepting each other as we are.
  • Our love is giving ourselves completely in order to please each other.
  • Our love is great sacrifice, knowing that everything we give will be returned a hundred-fold.
  • Our love is opening our minds and hearts to experiences that will let us grow together.
  • Our love is not giving up, no matter how flawed we may be.
  • Our love is devotion and security, even if it looks like control.
  • Our love is pain, taking and receiving, recognizing our need to have pain in our lives, and the trust that is required to experience that pain.
  • Our love is seeing each other, even the ugly parts of ourselves, and truly embracing all parts of each other.
  • Our love is caring for each other every day and making sure that the other's needs are forefront in our minds.  
  • Our love is respect in our words, actions and attitudes toward each other.  
  • Our love is expecting each other to be only exactly as we are and sacrificing any preconceived notions of an ideal partner.  
  • Our love is loving each other more than anything, even as we share parts of ourselves with others.
I invite you to define your love - for anyone and everyone in your life - in the comments.  Happy Valentine's Day!

On Fear

Things are not always as they seem.  There is fear, but I am not scared.  There are tears, but I am not upset.  There is pain, but I am not hurt.  So much of what you see here, dear readers, is a small sliver of the experience.  Think of this place as a singular moment in which you get to peek through the crack in the door.  Your eyes may deceive you.

Take fear: I have described many times my experiences with fear, too many to link to here.  One of my earliest memories is running away from a parent who was about to physically discipline me.  In that moment, as I ran up the steps of the house and locked the bedroom door behind me, I felt a pure rush of adrenaline.  It was something overwhelming, something I had never experienced before.  The feeling recurred in my dreams over the years, usually in a scenario when I was being chased.  I could feel that enticing and terrifying rush in my sleep and I held onto it like it was a precious treasure of an experience.    

When we are together, he recreates that feeling.  He pushes me to a point where I feel like I am in jeopardy, either physically or emotionally.  He brings me to that point of terror and I let him.  I let him.  I trust Him to do that because I know that I am safe in his hands.  He pulls me in opposite directions - between fear and safety, pain and pleasure - and I feel the extreme emotions at each end.  That is the essence of the experience.  That is a delicious feeling and one that I would be hard-pressed to describe to anyone who has not been involved in such an experience.  

The experience of fear feels very real but is buffeted by the ultimately safe nature of the entire framework.  It ends, but I often write from within that experience because it is so world-bending that I cannot keep it inside me.  But I do not live in fear of Him.  I am never really afraid, after all.  I am just experiencing fear in a safe way.  I love him and trust him more because we have the ability to experience that together.    

Same with crying: By now, he knows me well enough to see that I have trouble letting my anxieties and emotions out in a constructive way.  I do not have a place to release those anxieties in my life.  I am too busy placating my family members and pleasing my bosses.  I cannot unleash an emotional torrent on them and I do not know what to do with these feelings.  I suppose I could take up kickboxing, but that's not my cup of tea.

Instead, he helps me exorcise those demons in a constructive way.  He may bring me down with verbal humiliation or push me past where I think I can go.  He is very skilled and knows just how to lead me.  The goal is to allow me to release these emotions, to sob with the grief that I feel and to cry out like I have been longing to all week.  He absorbs everything as he holds me.  Again, there are the emotional extremes, the humiliation and the comfort all in one place.  I am not really upset by the experience, after all.  It is safe for me and it is a wonderfully freeing experience.  Sort of like primal scream therapy for kinky people ;-)

In both situations, if you happened to peek through the crack in the door at the moment when he is holding me down and I am flailing with a look of terror in my eyes, or when I am crying and racked with sobs, you would naturally think "My god, what is that man doing to that woman?"  But your eyes deceive you.  I have been deceived in the very same way.  I have spent days wondering if I should be afraid of him or why he made me cry so, only to talk it over with him and realize that the emotional whiplash of the experience was the purpose, not the fear or the crying.  I get wrapped up in my myopic perspective sometimes and miss the point.  While I am working that out and until I come to a place of understanding, I come here to write.    

That's my excuse.  Yours is that you don't always get to see everything that goes on inside this relationship.  That is understandable.  I don't give you a running account of my whole life that would provide the context for much of what I do.  But it is not my job to provide you with a comfortable experience every time and it is not my job to make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside every time.  Many of you do feel comfortable and warm and fuzzy, judging from a great majority of the comments.  For everyone else, I don't really owe you an explanation as I do not expect you to constantly explain yourselves to me, although I'd like to provide a little understanding from my end.  

And that is the point of blogging after all.  To open up my world to you so I feel less alone, and maybe open yours up to an experience that you have only dreamed about.  Or to educate you about different perspectives or to educate me about my own limitations.  I feel a profound amount of love and peace in my relationship and in my submission, and if you can grab on to even a tiny piece of that, then we will have connected in a meaningful way.  All you have to do is open your heart and see that I have been here, pouring mine out all along.    


I only ever wanted a place to be myself.  All of this is so hidden and I didn't want to continue behaving as if I felt ashamed about it.  I wanted to air out some of this, give it room to breathe and let the light of day burn away all of irrelevancies.  In more than a year of posting, I have shared many things, even things that I knew would not be welcome for some.    

It took so much for me to get here, 29 years of reflection and self-discovery.  I never knew that I would end up here, but I am happier for it.  I am happy every day, even when a post does not reflect that.  Maybe I wrote because I was working through something that had actually happened, or maybe I was spinning out ideas that were only based on fantasy.  Maybe I had already resolved  to make a change by the time you read my words, maybe I did change, or maybe He backtracked and things leveled off before I could even process it.  I come to this from all angles.  I only wanted to allow myself to think.

I write for myself and for you.  I give you maybe 1/16 of myself, if that.  I keep so much of myself back, but I do want you to understand.  There are many of you that never will.  And to you, I would simply ask you to move on.  There is the whole wide internet out there.  Find your people and be with them, and leave me with my thoughts.  

Forever and Ever

"I'm never happier than when I'm next to you," He whispered.

"Me either," I sighed as I held Him closer. "I hope it's like this forever."

"I want that more than anything."


I am impatient. I have been my whole life. I don't want to seem like I'm skirting responsibility, but I learned from the best. My mother is the most impatient person that I know. I can't tell you how often she snaps my father's name, as if he were the cause of all of her problems. The poor man. He is so quiet and can never catch a break, not in 40 years of marriage.

Anyway, back to me...I'm impatient. I used to have a roaring temper, but now I am merely occasionally short-tempered. I tend to get lost in my moods and forget that everyone else isn't ruled by the ill wind. I can be petty and argumentative and childish. I can be frustratingly blunt. I can really put my foot in it. I can be short-sighted and give up too easily. I can be needlessly rebellious. I can be rigid, and at times I can be careless with the rules. I can be over-sensitive and I cry too easily. I am excitable and easily distracted. I am difficult to live with. I am too hard on myself.

I am all of these things. These are my faults and I keep a daily running tally of them. I see them all the time. But Him? He thinks I'm perfect. He thinks everything I do is perfectly adorable, from the way that I excitably greet him on the phone ("HI! Hi Daddy! Hi!"), to the fact that I still drink milk every night with dinner, to the way that I hum while I brush my teeth, to the holes in my socks. Even through all of my failures and my faults, of which there are many and which crush me daily like a lead weight, he loves me completely and thinks the world of me.

There are times when I am sure that he is going to give up on me, or at least start to be a little less than 100% charmed by everything I do, but that never happens. Not even now, after 16 months together, has his ardor faded. How is that possible? I've had longer relationships, but never one where the lovey-dovey phase lasted this long or where we didn't start getting on each others' nerves to some extent. I wonder if we will always be this way.

I hope we will always be this way.


I thought I was over my period. Actually, I was, but it came back while I was fucking Him the other night. When He told me to get off of him and suck his cock, I saw a smear of blood on him and recoiled. I wasn't going to take him in my mouth like that. I just wasn't.

He saw what I saw and pushed me down toward his cock anyway. I whimpered and then shook my head slightly. I didn't want to disobey him, I feared bluntly saying "no," but I just couldn't do it. My eyes filled with tears as he persisted.

"Please Daddy, no, don't make me," I moaned, but he was unrelenting.

"Yes Kitten, now, take me in your mouth."

"But...but...," I sputtered, flailing my arms around helplessly. I balled up my fists and crushed them against my eyes, trying to block out what seemed inevitable.

"Just fucking do it," He growled.

I inched down toward his cock, looking anywhere but at him, trying to get out of this, trying to think of a solution. When it looked like I wouldn't be able to escape, I opened my mouth reluctantly and moved toward him.

But at the last possible second before my mouth touched his cock, he pulled me up and tenderly said, "That's enough." He sighed as he held me against him.

I should have felt relieved, but I was irate. How could he do that to me? It was a mindfuck, pure and simple. It was manipulation. It was humiliating. I was so stupid. I pushed against him, unwilling to feel grateful that he had let me go at the last second. Instead I felt a surge of hatred at what he did to me.

As he held me tighter, I struggled. "What do you feel right now?," he whispered, touching himself and watching me closely. "Mad," I grunted. "How could you do that?" I lost all sense of obedience and let my resentment course through my body.

"More, tell me more," he urged. I let the words spill from my mouth. "You can just do that, you can mess with me. You knew that I would do it if you asked. You fucked with me." I started beating my fists against his chest and I could see that he was growing more excited.

"Tell me, I know how you feel about me right now," he growled.

"I hate you, that's how I feel, I hate you," I shouted as I hit him in a frenzy. I was a blur of aggression, but he kept me held tightly to him throughout. I was angry but I was safe, venting everything that I held pent up inside me.

And then he came all over me in a rush of sighs and moans. He brushed my hair back from my face as I laid next to him in stunned silence. What had just happened?

"I control all of you, Kitten," he said, looking down at me. "I can bring everything out of you, everything that you've been hiding. I know that you hate that I can make you do anything, but sometimes you need to be reminded."

I smiled at him ruefully, giving him one last bump on his chest with my fist before cuddling deep in his arms.

Humiliation Nation

The other night, He knelt behind me to watch his come drip out of me. He had just finished taking me roughly from behind and I was shaky on my hands and knees. Once He saw what he wanted - the physical evidence of his ownership - he let me collapse on the bed. After a few minutes, after I caught my breath, I asked to get up to go to the bathroom to clean up.

"Is there more?," He asked.

"Um...," I stalled, knowing that he can't get enough of the sight of his come dripping out of me.

"Get up on your knees," He said in a tone of voice that brooked no argument.

My legs shook as I knelt next to him on the bed. I steadied myself against the wall with one hand. He knocked my knees apart and held his cupped hand under my cunt.

"Push," He said with an evil glint in his eyes. I covered my eyes with my free hand, but I obeyed. After a moment, I looked down to see his hand covered in my wetness and his. He held his hand up to my face and I looked at him warily.

"Lick, now," He whispered. I bent my head down, eyes tightly squeezed shut, and lapped at his palm. I could taste both of us on his hand. He made me clean up every drop.

I never did make it to the bathroom and I didn't get to rest my shaking body. I think my humiliation turned him on so much that he had to have me again, right away. As I sucked his cock, I could still feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Collaring, Part II

I think about the collar all the time. I used to fantasize about all manner of things as I tried to fall asleep, romance and ravishment, the first blush of new love. But I've put all that aside now. That seems so naive and childish, to think of unrealistic fantasies when I have the chance for a lifetime of love and happiness right in front of me.

So instead of dancing off to sleep with dreams in my head, I think of the collar. I can feel myself kneeling naked in front of Him, as naked as I have ever been in my life - exposed but warm in his gaze. He brings out the collar. I can't imagine exactly what it looks like, but its presence fills me with a tremendous sense of joy. There are tears, wonderfully happy tears.

He places it around my neck like a blessing. I have finally deserved it, our connection is finally complete. Everything is washed away. It is a baptism.

He tells me now that the time is close that I hold this tight against my heart. He tells me that I am walking straight along the path like a good girl. He knows that I have been trying so hard to be exactly what I need to be.

He tells me what the collar means, that I will be his Kitten forever. Later there will be a ring, but the collar comes first and, in a way, is more important. It will bind us on another level and in a way that only we will understand. It will be the most special bond we share.

And it all starts the first time he grabs me by that collar. After that, everything will be different. I drift off to sleep, dreaming of those moments just out of my grasp.


I haven't been posting here. I apologize. I've been trying to live outside my head for a while, but you know how difficult that can be. I had to come back here to be with you and to talk over those things that only you and I understand. It is so isolating sometimes. I tried to share a part of myself with a close friend recently and it went very badly, so I have retreated. I know that no one understands except you reading here and blogging out there about this life.

This is mostly my fault because I cannot explain this to myself, let alone someone else. Like, how do you put this kind of love into words when you don't even understand what this kind of love is to begin with? Sometimes I think that it isn't love at all, that it is just control and anger and hatred dressed up as something else. It isn't care and protection. Sometimes it is just power for power's sake. How can hurting me so badly, emotionally, serve any end other than to show me how much He hates me? Why else would he do this to me?

I am going on a trip in a few months and it has already been decided that my suitcase will be inspected and He has already made it known that I am not trusted by myself on this trip. That may not seem like a big deal to any of you, but it seems like an intrusion and a declaration that I am not a competent adult who cannot be on her own without suspicion. It's not a test. It just is. I can choose to leave if I don't want to put up with it, but who throws away their whole life based on one thing like that? But that's where they get is one thing today and tomorrow it is another thing and before you know it, your whole life is under siege. Then you look back and wonder where you made the decision to stay and you see that did it every day in a million little ways and that you didn't understand where it was going. And I don't see how that can be love. It seems like something else.

Of all of the things that got me into this, the emotional control is the part I understood the least. I didn't expect it and I didn't see how it tied into the sexual control or ownership or any of that. I am still at a loss to understand it even now, even after it has become the predominant force is my life. I know that I crave it on some level. I can feel it deep in my stomach, that sort of swooping sensation when he puts his hand on my neck and tells me that he owns me. I know that's the desire for control, or maybe the fear of it that gets crossed with desire. There are a lot of crossed wires in my head.

I know that he craves it too. He craves the brutality just like I do, although I think he fears it a great deal less. The other night I was airing some grievance with him and I was speaking a little more forcefully than was appropriate. I could see the burning in his eyes and I quickly stopped. Later he told me that he wanted to hit me so hard in that moment and I immediately felt an electric charge shoot between us. We both wanted it, but if he had actually hit me in that moment? It would have destroyed me and I would have felt an unbelievable sense of betrayal. I know, because it has happened before. There is confusion about destruction for the purpose of rebuilding me and destruction for its own sake. What happens when they look the same from my position on the floor?

He scares me so much sometimes that I wonder about his motivations. He scares me the most those times when he lets up on me suddenly, when he stops the pain and the cruelty, and he draws me into him. I am still scared and defiant and fighting, I want to push him away, but I am out of strength. I collapse on him and start to cry and he comforts me and I wonder, what kind of love is this?

Nothing, Part a Million

"When you said that I was nothing without you? Did you mean that?," I asked quietly before we went to bed. Of all of the terrible thing He said to me, somehow that was sticking with me the most.

"Kitten, you know that not everything I say to you during a scene is 100% accurate. Sometimes I say things to humiliate you, or to break you down, or to show you your place. But I don't always mean everything," he explained.

"So...did you mean that? Do you really think that I'm nothing without you?"

"I think that you'd be incomplete without me. I think that you'd be a cold, lost little Kitten without me. But I don't think you'd be nothing. You were something when I met you," he said, and he smiled.


The collar never really meant much to me. It would just be an accessory. I thought of it as a fun addition and a welcome symbol of our relationship, but it wouldn't be the be-all-end-all. I was going to get one for Christmas and I was excited. I didn't understand how important it is and how much giving it to me means to Him.

But that was before. Now I'm not getting one.

He's right - I don't deserve a collar now. I haven't behaved in a way that respects his ownership. He deserves better, today and for the rest of his life. He deserves a Kitten who understands what his ownership means and doesn't lie, not even about the little things. I don't deserve the collar, not the way I am.

Now that I'm not getting it, I suddenly understand what the collar means. I understand the symbol of trust, because I have been untrustworthy; and honesty, because I have been dishonest; and respect, because I have been disrespectful. I am struck by a deep sense of loss and grief, that I have squandered all of my work over the past year, that He is disappointed in me. It is the disappointment that hurts the most.

I have to start to earn it back. It is hard when I am so grief-stricken over the collar's abortive loss. But maybe this will help me appreciate it if I do ever get it, and do everything in my power to keep it.


He was above me, deep inside me. My legs were wrapped around his waist. He was looking down at me, holding my head still with both hands. His fingers were wound in my hair. For a time, He didn't say anything. He just moved slowly inside me and looked deep into me.

He leaned down closer until he was inches from my face. "It's time, Kitten," he said softly, pausing to brush the hair out of my eyes. "It's time to give yourself over to me completely. No holding back anything now, you have to give me everything."

I felt the tears prick at my eyes. I tried to shake them away, but he held me still.

"Let the tears come. It's time to give me everything you have. Let go, Kitten," he whispered. We were still moving together, but the sex was almost secondary at that point. We were moving together on a whole other level. It was almost spiritual, two beings fused together, orbiting around each other, dancing in harmony out in space.

"Everything," as he locked his hands around my neck. I floated up with Him, up, up. I took one deep breath and felt him press down on me but I was light as air. I held on to Him as he pulled me away, His lips on my face, drying my tears, tasting me, wringing them out of me.

I don't remember what happened next. We came down together, we must have because here we are, walking the earth with everyone else. I don't remember everything he said or much of what I did, but I remember words of great meaning and promises of forever. I asked Him later if He meant what he said, not sure what I was asking for. Maybe reassurance that he had felt the same soul-shifting connection that I had. He nodded with what I thought for a moment were tears in his eyes.

"Everything, Kitten. I meant everything."