The interesting thing about discovering that I did not love myself was how quickly I could start to learn to. That weekend and the Monday that followed brought forth far more emotion than I truly even understood I had inside me. The initial process has been quick but I also know that the journey will be continuous and there are many more hurdles to overcome, many more opportunities to explore and I am grateful for my growth.

During the past thirteen days Master and I have communicated both verbally and physically, in ways we had never done so before. I have approached Master with an honesty that surprised even myself and unlike times in the past, I have not withheld my thoughts or my tears. In fact, my tears have been excessive and sometimes all consuming and although I disliked the waterfall I know allowing that emotion out has made me a healthier person.

It is rather unnerving to feel dependent on someone, the way I do with Master. The reality is I truly am His owned slave. I know this should not come as a surprise, for I have been calling myself Masters slave for almost three years now but there is a difference in saying it and actually believing it, feeling it in every fiber of my bones. Being a slave is not simply about serving someone, not for me at least. It is about trusting on a level so foreign, so unbelievably unattainable and yet some how managing to do so.

And I trust my Master. Unconditionally.

This trust is what has made it possible for me to finally open myself to Master. To pull him into my heart and beg him to look, to delve, to explore knowing that nothing is hidden, nothing is out of reach, nothing is forbidden. That level of exposure is scary, for I can never take it back and knowing that I will be raw with Master from this day forward, will forever leave me vulnerable. But I think being vulnerable is what loving really is all about. And I never really got that until now. Before September 26th, I truly felt I was allowing Master to love me unconditionally, to love him unconditionally, but that was not true. I had kept small boundaries, invisible barriers, tucking little secrets into crevices I had not been willing to allow Master in to. And I did it without even knowing I was.

But I know now. And with knowledge comes an awareness and a desire to explore, to reach out for Masters hand and ask him to guide me, to walk with me as I pull the curtain of opportunity open and to stand by my side no matter what happens. And that is just what Master has done and what I believe Master will continue to do.

I believe in Master. I believe in myself. I believe in us.

This new foundation between Master and myself has filled me with a sense of freedom in my sexuality and I have taken the past two weeks to explore it with Master. I have come to let go some of the pressures I placed on myself and simply experience the moment without worrying. I have conquered fears of failure, something I did not realise I experienced until my internal masks were ripped from my soul. My continual "no" with regards to experiencing pain did not develop because I did not like pain but rather because I did not want to fail Master. I did not wish to disappointment him by not "taking all he had to give". And I also did not want want to disappoint myself.

I have always been competitive with myself. I challenge myself all the time. But I also loathe losing to myself and if I set a goal and do not meet it I become very angry and take some sick pleasure torturing myself with my downfall. This negative self deprecating behaviour seems to have been my security blanket for many years, some twisted masochistic means of shielding myself from disappointment. How very wrong I have been.

Truly the only way I have ever failed is when I have not tried.

Which is why I am now trying. Trying almost everything I held back from. Including physical pain. Deep, lasting physical pain located on my bottom, my thighs and even my sides. The kind of pain that can only come from being smacked, spanked and even punched. This new found sensation, the sensation of having a paddle blaze over the same tender spot, the sensation of feeling Master clench his fist and lightly punch my bottom, the deep thud of his knuckles hitting my already aching flesh, it is exquisite. And I have no idea why. I do not understand why I became wet as my bottom continued to sting, as I flinched and yet forced myself to remain still, my fingers clawing at the carpet as the switch of the buggy whip lashed my pink flesh. I was aroused, I was intoxicated with pain, I felt strong for enduring all that Master wished to give me. And I felt proud because I had tried. I did not simply say no to Master. I did not refuse to experience something new because I was afraid to fail. No. Instead I embraced it. I looked at it as an opportunity to explore something new, something that might actually bring me joy. And it did.

It really did bring me joy. And I am confident about that because the next morning when I placed my backside onto the soft sofa cushions, I winced and jumped right back up and instead of frowning, or growling or anger, I smiled. I smiled because it hurt. I smiled because of the memory I had of me pushing myself through the pain, pushing myself through the doubt and reaching success - reaching my goal of just trying.

And like that night, the night where Master made me climax through pain, the night Master gave me the gift of exploring my own pain, I tried something new last night. Something incredibly new.

After much conversation, after many tears I still wanted to explore with the young woman. I wanted to embrace this wonderful opportunity, not just for Master, not just for her but for myself as well. The first time we were together, I absolutely was not in the correct head space and therefore I truly did not believe that I had given myself a fair chance with regards to my feelings about playing with another woman, about having a real life toy to explore.

After much consideration and a plethora of frank conversations, Master, the young woman and myself all agreed that we would meet on the 8th of October and spend a fun evening together. As the day approached I was feeling confident with my place with the young woman, understanding her limits, what she is comfortable with, what she did not wish to experience and although I probably asked her more questions that any exam she has ever taken, I finally felt secure with what the evening might entail.

The beginning to this adventure started with me picking the young woman up at 3:10pm. The greeting was warm and I knew instantly that I felt better this time around. Under Masters instructions, I immediately placed black leather cuffs around her wrists and although she fidgeted for the duration of the drive, she managed to keep the cuffs exactly where they were meant to be. The conversation between the young woman and I flowed rather naturally and continued once we arrived back at the house. Immediately I went about preparing dinner while the young woman was told to sit on the floor and keep me company. I felt excitement and nervousness, controlling a person in an intimate context is not a natural state for me; however, I continued to tell myself that I was an extension of Master and it was truly him who was controlling her.

The time between when we arrived at the house to when Master arrived went by extremely quickly and both the young woman and I laughed as I slid down the main hallway as she shouted, "He is walking up to the door, hurry hurry". (It is a rule of mine to be seated properly when Master arrives. My place is on my knees, arms behind my back, facing the front door. I always ensure I am in my place fifteen minutes earlier than when Master generally arrives home so that I am prepared, just in case he might be a little bit early. Yesterday both the young woman and I had been in our place for fifteen minutes when I realised the chicken needed to come out of the oven or it would have burned. This one little move took me away from the door and had I not slide to "home base", I would not have been on my knees, properly waiting for Masters arrival.) This tiny moment of laughter allowed me to feel even more at ease and as Masters smile caught my own I felt happy; happy to have the experience that was about to take place.

Master also eased my nerves as he bent down, wrapped his arms around me and hugged me. He stayed close with me for quite some time and I felt incredibly loved. I knew this was Masters way of reassuring me, his way of reminding me that I am his slave and I am grateful for that embrace, for all he gave me throughout the night. After giving me permission to rise, Master greeted the young woman who was sitting quietly on her bottom, hands behind her back, silent until given permission to speak. It was and still is rather interesting, the sensations of watching my Master interact with another female, with a submissive female. I am not so certain I can fully explain what it feels like but I am certain with time I will have a better understanding. For now though, I can say that watching Master care for another, to be gentle with another, to be dominant over another actually allows me to love Master in a whole new way.

After greetings were exchanged I returned to the kitchen to tend to dinner and as I fussed about with the meal Master escorted the young woman into the closet I had prepared earlier that week. Master had asked me to empty the closet for he wished to place the young woman in there, to help teach her patience. Once the young woman was properly resting behind that closed door Master returned to me in the kitchen and proceeded to ask how I was feeling and how the afternoon had been. Our discussion lasted approximately ten minutes at which point dinner was ready and so Master kissed my lips and returned to the closet to retrieve the young woman and bring her to the table. The conversation over dinner was rather generic with hints of playfulness and I believe the thirty minutes of what I call "normal" time helped settle my nerves and remind me not to worry, to simply allow the evening to flow in whatever manner felt right.

As always my tradition, once we have consumed all we wished, I went about cleaning the kitchen and tending to the dishes while Master had the young woman strip down to her bra and panties and move on all fours to act as a table. Master had promised the young woman that he would look at her, "sexy beast of engineering" (aka her mac computer) as there was something wrong, or something needed. Master was more than happy to help the young woman and as he worked on her computer she was to remain still and act like a piece of furniture.

It took no time at all to tidy the kitchen and within minutes I was seated beside Master, resting on the sofa while he tended to her laptop. The updates to her mac were going to take much longer than anyone thought and so Master decided that while the computer did its job, he and I would have some fun with the toy. I knew Master was longing to bring out the toys and so, without thinking, I moved upstairs and retrieved every possible toy I could think that Master would like to use. I could see the excitement behind Masters blue eyes as I brought the basket of toys to him. Immediately the young woman was told to stand at which point Master removed her pretty maroon panties and replaced them with a rope harness. The prickly rope tickled and rubbed against her skin and I could tell by her facial expressions that the knot at her cunt was both painful and pleasurable. After Master had securely fastened her in the harness he proceeded to take some photographs of her. The young woman really enjoys having her picture taken while in bondage and I took pleasure in knowing she would really like all of the shots Master was snapping. There is one picture in particular where the young woman is on her back, her right leg crossed over her left, arms at her sides and she is looking back and smiling - that photograph is beautiful.

The evening itself was a whirlwind of stimulation for the young woman, for Master and even for myself. At one point during the night, Master and I wrapped the young woman's head with saran wrap and then wrapped black latex tape around her eyes and from her chin to above her head. We ensured she could breathe, leaving a hole for her mouth; however, with all that packaging she truly became a toy. Master guided her to the wall where she was instructed not to move as Master placed the spreader bar between her legs, her palms pressed against the picture frame before her. I remember exhaling slowly at the sight of her. She was completely exposed, vulnerable and aching to be used. Immediately Master guided me to stand beside her, took my wrist in his and pressed my palm against her bottom. I felt completely out of my element, unsure what to do. It was almost as though I was looking at a museum artifact and touching what I should not. I also was unsure of myself. I was afraid to spank her. I have never really had that much free reign and I did not trust myself enough to know when enough would be enough. Once Master had walked away, picking up an instrument of wicked pleasure I too found the wooden paddle, using it rather than my hand. I believe I might have patted her bottom twice, perhaps even three times; however, I felt far more comfortable teasing her with the toys, running them over her skin, using feathers to tickle, placing cold objects against her, causing her to wriggle. As Master paddled her, caused her to wince, to scream out "ouch" I found myself sitting under her, my back against the same wall she was using to support herself. As I looked up at her naked flesh I was in awe at how bold, how brave this young woman was and all I wanted was to give her pleasure. I believe I was holding the small wooden paddle at this time, running the edges over her breasts, her thighs, her calves. I wanted to give her a completely different sensation from the one Master was providing as he smacked her harder and harder, each new toy coming to life in his hands.

Eventually Master became restless with that one position and after removing the spreader bar, both Master and I guided the young woman to the floor, having her rest on her stomach. Once she was stretched out, Master retrieved more rope and placed the young woman into a deliciously evil hog tie. Once more I was inspired by her willingness, her eagerness to be confined tightly, to be held with such restraints. Having the young woman in such a predicament only brought her even harder spanks, harder smacks with the paddles, with the canes and even Masters bare hand. There was a moment when the pain became intense, when the young woman had no alternate means to release that pain other than with tears. I was aware that tears could happen, the young woman and I had spoken of it, at length but the moment I heard the weeping I felt myself crumble just a little. Still I managed to keep my composure and try to soothe her, try to encourage her, to tell her what a good job she was doing. I truly felt completely out of my element but I took my lead from Master and continued to help keep her still as Master swatted her time and time again.

Quite some time passed with the young woman roped, her bottom a bright red and Master felt it was time to untie her little body and free her from the plastic tightly bound around her head. Although she was no longer bound, Master was not finished playing with the little toy and instructed her to move to the floor. Here, Master proceeded to play with plastic clothes pins, placing them strategically on her body, causing her to wince and squirm. The pins were not enough though and without hesitation, Master slipped into the kitchen, returning with a lit candle in hand. Immediately I moved behind the toy, instructing her rest against my body, to use me for support. I also wanted to be behind her to help hold her still so that Master did not burn her with the flame. The white wax dripped awfully close to her already tender flesh, the rope marks screaming at us. There was a moment when Master allowed a great deal of wax to land over her mound and I could feel the young woman flinch, little tears slipping from the corner of her eyes. As I felt her pain for a second time that night I held her tighter, closer, as though I was trying to soothe her once again.

Eventually the young woman's body was painted with droplets of wax and Master felt she had endured enough. In true caring fashion, I attempted to use a butter knife to scrape the wax from her skin; however, Master had a far nastier plan and used the palm of his hand, smacking each droplet off of her. It was difficult for me to watch as he did this because I could hear her little voice cry "ouch" and I truly felt she had experienced a great deal of pain. Once more though I followed Masters lead and went about cleaning the wax from the carpet while he enjoyed toying with her. When the wax was completely off, Master instructed her to sit down and I instinctively I went to get her some water and encouraged her to eat an orange as I did not want her sugar to drop as that most often happens after such physical exertion. Once she had time to take a drink I asked her to stretch out on the blanket as I rubbed cream into the flesh of her bottom, her thighs and her calves. I wanted to soothe her skin, I wanted to ensure she was "okay". It was in that moment that I realised no matter how much I try, the nurturer will always be a part of me. I could not help but laugh a little at myself for thinking I could be anything else. The down time from the first part of her sweet torture involved many cuddles from Master and while she nestled on the sofa with him, taking deep breaths, coming down from the high, I nestled close to Master on the floor, giving Master a foot massage. I knew the young woman needed the cuddles, deserved the cuddles but I did not feel comfortable giving them to her myself. I truly felt they should come from Master seeing as Master was the one who inflicted the pain, had experienced the moment with her in a way I had not.

An hour passed and Master and the young woman were ready for round two. As Master and I had conversed earlier that evening I knew what was planned for the second half and so without asking, I went to the kitchen and retrieved the new black arm binder and black pony hood. Together, Master and I fitted the young woman with the arm binder and we were both very happy with how it looked. Next we squeezed her head into the extremely tight hood. This hood has a life of its own and I knew, or shall I say, I had a really good feeling that the young woman would enjoy the sensation of having the leather mold to her face. Once we had dressed her in a manner we liked Master positioned her into numerous poses, photographing her in her toy like state. At one point, Master instructed her onto her knees, wanting to attack her bottom with even more toys and because I was concerned she might fall over, I moved to my knees as well, holding her steady. I am not certain if the spankings were any harder than they had been earlier in the evening but I do know her bottom was already tender and because of this each swat she was now receiving must have brought more pain to her flesh. I remember watching her as I kept her close, feeling her breathing, listening to her little screeches, her tiny cries. And the tiny cries I was okay with. I had already experienced her tears during the first half of our debauchery; however, there was a moment when Master was smacking her very red bottom with a metal spatula that her soft cries became intense sobs. As soon as I felt her body shaking I wrapped my arms around her, squeezing her close, wanting to take away the pain but not wanting to take away her experience. I was worried for her, a sense of protectiveness swept over me, causing me to turn to Master and mouth to him to stop. I believe I even put out my arm, trying to push him away. Master and I exchanged brief words through silence for we did not want the young woman to hear what we were saying; however, in the end I listened to Master and obeyed, keeping my arms around her shaking body. With each sob I felt my own tears begin to well and I pushed them back down just as fast. Master did not continue to smack her for long, maybe four or five more swats but I was furious that he continued.

Fortunately, her tears stopped just as quickly as they had before and I knew her recovery was immediate. That was the end of the pain; however, Master did move her to the sofa, bind her legs with leather belts attached to the arm binder, spreading her legs wide, keeping them apart. It was a very surreal experience watching Masters fingers slide into her cunt, to see him pleasuring another female. I had never witnessed that before. As I heard her whimpers I found myself curious about her pleasure and I wanted her to cum, to have release and I knew Master did as well. Master slid his fingers from her slick hole and replaced it with the Hitachi wand, pressing the vibrating head against her lips and clit. I watched as she trembled, listened as she whimpered, expressing it was too intense, pleading for it to be moved and eventually asking to cum. What a transformation - to go from pain and tears to moans and ecstasy. Master being his wicked self did not remove the wand immediately, torturing her with pleasure but I could tell by her giggles that although it was painful it was still good.

As soon as the young woman collected herself, taking deep breaths and calming down, Master and I removed both the hood and the arm binder and placed her once again on the sofa, giving her cuddle time. The down time was filled with quiet conversation and eventually a warm bath with baby oil for the young woman to help soak her aching body. I had really hoped she would take a bath, I wanted her to leave from the night feeling well used and fully refreshed and I could tell by her smile as she slipped into the tub that we had provided just that for her. The evening ended late, Master driving her back to her home and me crawling into bed, wanting to stay awake until he returned but simply drifting into a deep dream filled sleep.

Absolutely everything that transpired last night was 100% different than two weeks ago. Throughout the entire evening Master was reassuring me of my place with him, in his heart. There were two very special moments for me as we played with the new toy. One moment was when he held me close, kissed me softly and whispered, "You are the only woman I am in love with". Hearing those words, feeling them fill me gave me all the courage and desire to keep trying, to continue to explore. The second moment was when Master was sitting on the floor, the young woman's head on his lap (having some down time) and Master pulled me close, kissing me tenderly. As his breath entered me, as my sigh filled him I could hear the young woman, her voice soft, almost a whisper. She was complimenting Master and I, expressing what a wonderful view she had as she looked up and watched our exchange. And it was a beautiful exchange. There were many, many other times when Master reached out for me, asking if I was okay, keeping me close and reminding me that I am loved, that I am his, that I am exactly where he wants me. And there was a a moment when the young woman came upstairs, just before her bath where she asked me with such sincerity if I was okay. She wanted to know how I was feeling about everything, if I felt okay with the tears. There was a connection with the young woman at that moment and I am grateful to have had it.

This experience has been monumental for me. And I am exceptionally happy that Master has allowed me to have it. And I am very proud of myself for not giving up, for not just saying no to it because it is something I have fantasized about for a very long time. Granted, the reality has been extremely different from my dreams and I am a little puzzled that I was not as sadistic as I thought I would be. In fact today I even stated to Master that I am not so certain I am a sadist anymore. Master was curious about my words but he respects my thoughts. Master did suggest though that I might just need a little more experience and that I might have been upset about the pain the young woman was feeling because I was not the one inflicting it - everything is different when it comes from me and not someone else. And Master could be right, I am not willing to write that off either, really just an observation I am thinking about.

I will say that although I might not have received what the young woman and Master did from the evenings events I know I took some form of pleasure from it because my body was aroused, I was wet. I confess this still puzzles me somewhat because mentally I did not feel arousal. Mentally I was kind of tuned out, I did not want to think last night I wanted only to feel. I believe this is a new concept, to be aroused physically but not mentally, emotionally. I am certain I will learn more about that as we move forward.

I have no idea where this will all lead and for the first time I am not trying to plan for anything. I believe that what is best to do is to simply experience, experiment and to communicate openly, honestly with myself, with Master and with the young woman. During a conversation today, Master stated that he was uncertain if I was doing all of "this" just to please him or if I was having fun as well. Had he asked me this two weeks ago my answer might have been the latter but not today. No, today my answer is that I am curious, that I want to explore this and that I am not doing it solely for his enjoyment. I know that if I do that I am putting my own self esteem along with our relationship in danger and I will not do that. Nothing is worth that.

~His

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