Friday, May 29, 2009


The place I'm working at this summer is much more "professional" than my previous jobs, which means no walking around in dog collars like I'm wont to do on a normal basis. I have several nice chokers that are very formal/professional, but unfortunately those tend to be more fragile and several of them are broken. (There's a reason I prefer regular pet collars!)

My mother has used this job as an excuse to buy me an entire new wardrobe, and she's intent on getting accessories to go with. It's difficult for me because I can't just say, "No, I can't/don't want to wear a regular necklace because I need to wear a collar or choker to symbolize my relationship with [Master]." I'm sure if she knew I was only interested in chokers it'd cut down on browsing time a lot, but as it stands I just wind up shaking my head a lot.

Monday, May 25, 2009


I didn't cry when he tied me down for the last time, when my ass turned crimson from his blows for the last time.

I didn't shed a tear when we woke up next to each other, the morning light making our skin glow as we held each other, for the last time.

I was all smiles when I watched him walk down the aisle in his black robes to receive his diploma, ending his career at our college.

I laughed and chatted as we drank hot chocolate and apple cider together for the last time.

And as our hands parted for the last time, I kept a strong face.

But that night, after a long ride home, when I was alone in my bed - so big and empty - with no one to hold on to, no one to kiss good night...

That was when I cried.

Saturday, May 16, 2009


I'm in the midst of writing a poem about how Master makes me feel. When I get a good first draft, I will post it here. It uses imagery that's considerably more violent than I usually use, but not in a bad way. We'll see how it works.

Friday, May 8, 2009

Angry kitty

Thursday night Master and I had an excellent play session. It wasn't terribly fancy - mostly just tying up and spanking - but there were some new twists that I really enjoyed.

First Master had me take off my shirt and underwear, keeping on just my little green punk skirt. Then he bound my arms and legs with thick black rope, winding the rope down my arms and up my calves to keep me from twisting them. He blindfolded me and gave me an incredible spanking, switching between the wooden paddle, his hand, and the riding crop. Master was absolutely merciless, and he definitely pushed my pain tolerance. Then he fingered my bum; I can take two fingers now, though not very far.

After being fingered I realized I needed to pee, and I asked Master if I could go to the bathroom. "You may," he said. "Stand up." I struggled to my feet - still tied and blindfolded - and he slung me over his shoulder and carried me to the toilet. He left so I could pee, and when I was done he came back in. I was having trouble wiping because of how my wrists were tied, and he asked, "Do you need help?"

"Ummm... uh... yes," I admitted in a tiny voice. Master took the tissue from my hand and gently, ever so gently, wiped me clean. Then, just like that, he hoisted me over his shoulder again and carried me back to the bedroom, where he threw me down on the bed.

I think that was the tipping point for me. Needing help going to the bathroom had already made me feel deeply submissive; being bound, blindfolded, and completely disoriented as he tossed me around, depending entirely on his ability to keep me from harm - that sent me flying away into Kitten-land fast. Master lay down on the bed beside me and gave my butt a smack, making me mew. "There's my kitten," he murmured.

He fucked me hard and fast, and something about that night - I'm still not sure what - made me go a little crazy. I was yowling, clawing at the sheets, tearing at my bonds with my teeth. I wanted to rip something apart, to feel the rush that comes with destruction. I think it's called "displaced aggression" - when an animal is harassed by a dominant animal, they direct their frustration at something else (usually someone lower on the pecking order or an inanimate object) because they can't fight back. It was like that, but I wasn't mad at Master or anything. I loved it! I wanted to take all this energy, all this violence that he was pouring into me and direct it somewhere else to show him how fierce of a kitty he can make me.

Afterwards, Master held me as I trembled, stroking my skin and making reassuring noises. I was jumpy; I was on edge. When he touched me, I reflexively nipped at him, biting whatever was closest to my teeth. After this happened a couple times, Master decided he wouldn't have any more of it and grabbed the scruff of my neck, gently but firmly. I coiled, then relaxed under his grip; the energy dissipated, and all I wanted to do was fall into a deep, contented sleep.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Uh-huh, right

The BBC posted an article about (yet another) male hormonal contraceptive being tested. This one's an injection of testosterone that suppresses the production of sperm. I'm skeptical about this one panning out; word of another male HBC in the pipes pops up every couple of months and somehow the funding always dries up, despite sustained interest by men.

But what really got me was this: "Previous attempts to develop an effective and convenient male contraceptive have encountered problems over reliability and side effects, such as mood swings and a lowered sex drive." (Emphasis mine.)

Mood swings? Lowered sex drive? What, you mean the exact same side effects women deal with EVERY DAY when they're on HBC?

Oh wait, I forgot - women are moody, hormonal, and hate sex anyway, so who cares if they get those side effects?

Give me a break.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

I got very little sleep

Beltaine was fun, for the most part. Master, Lupa and I went to the beach and set up a (slightly illegal) camp. We had delicious hobo stew for dinner, lounged around and played the harmonica and banjo, and generally had a fine time. Once it was dark, we stripped naked and jumped over the campfire before running back to the tent. It was cold at first, but we were able to warm the tent up pretty quick. ;)

We ended up not bringing enough padding/blankets, so I didn't actually get any sleep that night, being squished between the other two, but otherwise it was fun.

The night before, Master and I talked about polyamory, specifically my propensity for it, about how I'm only jealous if I'm not friends with whomever Master sleeps with. I also get a little twinge of jealousy if he doesn't come inside me during group sex, but it's not that huge a deal for me. I think it's an evolutionary holdover - his genetic material is for me, goddamn it - and therefore pretty easy to rationalize into submission.

Master also talked about how, when it came down to it, he doesn't think he could have sex with a guy. "That usually means you're straight, you know," I said teasingly. He agreed to an extent, but said he's still figuring out his identity. I remember when I was coming into my identity as queer in high school; it wasn't always fun. Hopefully Master will have an easier time of it, whatever conclusion he reaches. Whatever happens, I'll definitly be willing to lend a supportive ear and mind.