I would say that I am a highly empathic per­son.  Ever since I was little I have felt other peoples emo­tions whether the sen­sa­tions are happy or sad or frus­trated or dis­ap­poin­ted or excited or even aroused.  When I was very young I often found myself over­whelmed with all the emo­tions I diges­ted; how­ever, with time I am learn­ing to sep­ar­ate what are genu­inely my emo­tions as opposed to the energy I am exper­i­en­cing from others.

I believe my jour­ney in pro­tect­ing myself while still being sup­port­ive to oth­ers has cer­tainly been a con­sid­er­ably bumpy one because of the life­style Master and I lead.  Anytime we have gone to a play party, an event where I may wit­ness a spank­ing, another per­sons humi­li­ation, a spec­tac­u­lar orgasm, I have found myself unsettled and often flustered because I am simply absorb­ing too many for­eign responses and these emo­tions of con­flict have con­tin­ued with the train­ing of pet.  In the begin­ning I found myself grossly dis­com­bob­u­lated and often pulled away both phys­ic­ally and emo­tion­ally because, simply put, I was not able to absorb all that I was and still be groun­ded internally.

Thankfully, with time and great effort along with com­mu­nic­a­tion I am learn­ing to be present  as well as sheltered when play­ing with pet.  There are still times when I for­get to sep­ar­ate myself; how­ever, my recov­ery is far quicker now than before and I believe a great deal of that has to do with express­ing myself in the moment, such as I did Saturday evening.

Master and I had been teas­ing pet, Master lick­ing her flesh, allow­ing his spit to run over her face all while I was strad­dling the bench pet was lying on, pla­cing the Hitachi wand against her already sens­it­ive cunt.  I had been tor­ment­ing her with the evil vibrat­ing device for quite some time and her little body was hav­ing dif­fi­culty lying still all while keep­ing  her legs apart.  After being told numer­ous times to keep her legs open Master smack her tender thigh viciously hard, leav­ing an imme­di­ate mark.  This intense swat in con­junc­tion with the emo­tional tur­moil she was exper­i­en­cing due to saliva being on her flesh pushed her into an emo­tional roller coaster and for whatever reason the tears she was releas­ing were simply too intense for me; con­sum­ing me imme­di­ately in a wave of unsettled dis­com­fort.  I believe my con­flict did not solely stem from how Master had treated pet but also because I had really wanted to give her pleas­ure, to make her feel good and Masters slap had removed any oppor­tun­ity for me to enjoy the moment.  It was sur­real how the sexual energy dis­sip­ated and without even paus­ing to reflect on my actions I slipped from the bench, covered pets legs and feet and unplugged the wand.  I know I would have walked up stairs had pet not been bound; how­ever, due to her inab­il­ity to fol­low, I res­ted my bot­tom onto the wooden plat­form, ensur­ing a dis­tance was between me and Master, me and pet.

Words did not need to be spoken for the three of us to know that the mood had shif­ted.  I was grossly con­flic­ted as I sat cross legged, watch­ing Master soothe pet with his words and tender embrace.  I did not like what I was feel­ing and although I had wanted that par­tic­u­lar type of play to cease I did not wish for the even­ing to come to an end.  Truth be told I was uncer­tain as to how to approach the moment and unlike times before I reached inside of myself and con­fessed to not lik­ing what Master did, that he had slapped pet too hard, that I had wanted the fun, teas­ing pleas­ure to con­tinue and now I felt dis­con­nec­ted.  My con­fes­sion, although extremely dif­fi­cult to share, allowed Master to under­stand where my head space was and in turn gave him the oppor­tun­ity to cease activ­ity and come to me, to pause with me and allow a brief period of time to pass so that I could col­lect my thoughts, con­trol my internal envir­on­ment and more forward.

I was amazed then and I am still in awe at how quickly I recovered from it all and I believe it all stems from shar­ing feel­ings imme­di­ately rather than hold­ing them back.  Within minutes Master and I were releas­ing pet from her mum­mi­fied state and although that par­tic­u­lar activ­ity stopped, play­ing with pet con­tin­ued through­out the after­noon and into the even­ing.  When look­ing back at that moment in the base­ment I am still slightly baffled as to why it affected me to such an extent, espe­cially when I think of the extremely emo­tional exper­i­ence that happened later in the even­ing; an exper­i­ence that, in the past would have had me topsy turvy and yet I was calm through­out the entire ordeal.

On Friday even­ing Master had stated that pet would be receiv­ing a twenty minute spank­ing.  Now, in the past this would have freaked me out; how­ever, through time I have come to learn that a spank­ing can range from light swats to viol­ent lash­ings and I trust Master enough to know he would never break a toy.  I also felt con­fid­ent that pet would be able to handle such an extens­ive spank­ing because Master had stated I would warm pet up and my swats are gen­er­ally much softer, truly meant to warm the flesh and pre­pare it for a more intense work out.

Initially the spank­ing was very calm, gentle in fact; how­ever, after approx­im­ately ten minutes of lighter to slightly harder spanks, Master retired his hand and moved onto other more unfor­giv­ing instru­ments.  There were numer­ous toys Master used on pets bot­tom ran­ging from the wooden paddles to a crop to a whippy rub­ber flog­ger to the ping pong paddle (one of the most wicked of toys) and through­out the rota­tion of devices, Masters swats became harder and harder caus­ing pet to squirm, scream and cry.  Now, in the past, the moment I heard pets tears I would have become emo­tion­ally stressed and begged Master to stop; how­ever, for whatever reason, in that moment I did noth­ing of the sort.  When the tears first star­ted to fall I simply moved my body closer to pets’ drap­ing my arm over her back and allow­ing her my hand to squeeze.  In the past, pet has respon­ded with little sighs of relief know­ing she has my hand to cling to; how­ever, there was some­thing for­eign, some­thing incred­ibly new to that par­tic­u­lar moment and I could not help but feel as though pet did not wish to be com­for­ted, that she wanted to embrace and endure the pain she was exper­i­en­cing on her own, to push her­self through it inde­pend­ently.  Using my gut instinct I pulled back and simply watched as Master beat her ass, push­ing her over an emo­tional water­fall of emo­tions as he slammed the hard ten­nis ball against her already bruised ass cheeks.

It was an incred­ibly sur­real moment, watch­ing pet wriggle and plead, watch­ing as her body twitched and bucked up, hear­ing the panic and des­per­a­tion in her sobs and lost breaths and finally wit­ness­ing her both cling and push away from Master; watch­ing pet endure her own internal battles.  Something happened dur­ing that hour, some­thing I truly do not know how to define or explain, all I know is that although I was not dis­con­nec­ted from the moment I truly had no emo­tion con­nec­ted to it.  I did not feel the emo­tion I have felt in the past; I did not feel con­cern for pet. I was not wor­ried about her mind, body or spirit.  I did not feel worry for her, in fact, all my atten­tion was dir­ec­ted at Master.

I wanted Master to take pleas­ure from her and to take exactly what he wanted and I believe he did.  As I watched his hand fall upon her already aching flesh I did not con­cern myself with her tears but rather I was con­sumed with the glossy, shark like stare eman­at­ing from his now dark blue eyes.  It was as though I was see­ing Master for the first time, see­ing the beast he so read­ily keeps caged and I could not help but find my cunt leak­ing, my own sexual hun­ger grow­ing wildly, all of which was caused by the energy rico­chet­ing between Master and myself; between the heavy set of panic drown­ing pets tears and the echo­ing of the firm con­tinu­ous swats cre­ated by Masters’ aching palms.

Truly the moment  simply is  far too intric­ate to artic­u­late; how­ever, what I can share is that for the first time in my life I com­pletely under­stood the devi­ant pleas­ure of using another human being as an object, to sub­mit to the darkest realms of one’s mind and allow impulse and animal instinct to over ride logic and com­pas­sion.  I must con­fess I was slightly scared as I watched the trans­form­a­tion of Master if only because I have been fight­ing my own Pandora for many many years and I just barely have con­trol over it and I really did not know just how much con­trol Master had.  With that said though, I trust Master com­pletely and like all other exper­i­ences I believed Master would remain in con­trol; an intox­ic­ated, euphoric con­trol, but nev­er­the­less, control.

The exper­i­ence was entirely new for me as I believe it was for pet as well but for entirely dif­fer­ent reas­ons.  I will not speak for pet, she has a voice and a venue to do that for her­self but what I can say is that some­thing happened for her dur­ing her hour long spank­ing, some­thing intense, some­thing grossly emo­tional and those feel­ings lingered for the remainder of the even­ing.  How very unusual for me to feel so little emo­tion know­ing she felt so very much.   I believe that for whatever reason,  dur­ing that pain­ful for­eign exchange, I con­nec­ted with some­thing inside of myself, some­thing related to dom­in­ance, sad­ism and con­fus­ingly, submission.

This past week­end I believe has given me yet another exper­i­ence, more reflec­tion and intro­spec­tion into what I want, what arouses me, what I can and can not con­trol.  This week­end also provided the rela­tion­ship Master and I share with pet a level of real­ity, the real­istic exper­i­ence that some­times fun and play can turn down a rocky path instant­an­eously yet it also demon­strates that com­mu­nic­a­tion can help smooth out the potholes along the way.

Like all week­ends spent with pet, these past two days have cer­tainly exposed me to some­thing new, some­thing I was not aware of, yet has been resid­ing deep within my soul.  I can not help but won­der what else lingers just below the surface?

~His

As soon as I saw Master pull up to the house my stom­ach fluttered.  I had an itch all day and the only per­son who could scratch it was Master.  As soon as he entered he squat­ted, wrap­ping his arms around me in a warm embrace.  The tingles trickled down through my spine and as Masters’ palm smacked my right ass cheek, my cunt began to flood.   I had been aching all day for Masters touch and with each con­tin­ued swat my desire con­tin­ued to grow.  After a few sweet kisses and one more sub­stan­tial swat, Master gran­ted me per­mis­sion to rise and tend to his din­ner.  Even as I was stir­ring the spa­ghetti sauce my mind floated back to Masters hands, Masters lips, Masters voice and Masters cock.  At one point while Master was grop­ing my bra clad breasts I man­aged to strip him of his jeans, my fin­ger­tips lightly caress­ing his covered cock.  Needless to say, din­ner was served quickly and I licked my lips hun­grily as I watched Master eat, hop­ing he would devour his food so that I would be gran­ted per­mis­sion to wrap my lips around what I was really craving.

Eventually Master allowed me to remove the dishes and when I scur­ried back to his side my hand imme­di­ately moved to his cock all while my eyes met Masters’.  There is some­thing abso­lutely magical when I see a par­tic­u­lar smile behind Masters eyes and the silent exchange between us at that exact moment told me Master was feel­ing rather play­ful and I embraced his light hearted energy.  My fin­gers never left Masters crotch, lightly strum­ming over his length; how­ever, Masters hands moved reck­lessly over my ass, my breasts, my back and my throat.  And along with his hands, his words were whis­per­ing deep inside me, caus­ing my cunt to leak and my need to have him in my mouth greater.  Still, as horny as I was to taste his drip­ping cock, Master had a dif­fer­ent vis­ion of how to use his slave and as his fin­gers stung against my ass cheek he chuckled as he told me he should fuck my ass cunt.  I become slick when Master tells me he will be using my tight hole; how­ever I really wanted him in my mouth cunt.  Still, Master desired some­thing more and with beau­ti­ful con­trol he pulled me to the sofa, push­ing my face into the soft cush­ion.  I remained still as Master walked to the kit­chen using the grape seed oil to moisten his cock and fin­gers and the moment I felt his slip­pery digits coat my tight hole I moaned know­ing how much pleas­ure I would be receiv­ing once Master pushed him­self inside me.  Under Masters instruc­tions I forced myself to relax, push­ing out and with very little effort Master slipped his cock inside me, my ass cunt clench­ing around him.

There is some­thing sur­real that hap­pens to me when Master uses me in such a man­ner.  For reas­ons I do not know, anal sex makes me squirm, makes me melt, makes me cum in a way no other pen­et­ra­tion can and tonight was no excep­tion.  In fact, my ass cunt is so highly sens­it­ive that after the second orgasm Master gave me, I was buck­ing back into him, try­ing to push him off of me because I was simply too sens­it­ive.  Master did not give into my pleas and con­tin­ued to give me three more orgasms before he stopped, washed his cock, only to return to use my mouth and throat cunt for his tak­ing.  Something hap­pens to me when Master uses my mouth cunt, I turn primal.  This sen­sa­tion has happened once before when Master forced his cock into my ass cunt before it was truly pre­pared for such an inva­sion; how­ever, the wild beast in me always comes out when Master chokes me, caus­ing tears to stream down my face as I gag and gasp for air and tonight was no different.

When I feed from Masters’ cock I trans­form into a greedy whore and I will do any­thing to have Masters’ cum slide down my throat cunt and into my stom­ach.  When I feast on Masters’ cock I turn into an animal, a des­per­ate starving altern­at­ive of myself and I truly do not care what I have to do in order to bring Master to his very own orgas­mic release.  Fortunately or unfor­tu­nately, not cer­tain how to think of it, Master made me do very little before he cli­maxed and I was elated to taste him so quickly.  Generally Master makes me wait a min­imum of 60 minutes before he will even con­sider allow­ing me to drink; how­ever, I must have been a good slave and so he gran­ted me my dessert far sooner than I had hoped for.

I was a very lucky girl tonight. I was given what I wanted without hav­ing to wait that long.  Still, as I sit here all I can think about is Master and feel­ing his caress, whether it be hard and firm or tender and invit­ing.  I also can not stop think­ing of Masters’ cock, think­ing of it filling my holes, all of my holes and using me in any way he sees fit.  And I do mean use.  Although I received great pleas­ure tonight, I abso­lutely felt like a toy, Masters toy. I felt like  a trinket of sorts for Master and for reas­ons I can not explain nor jus­tify, the sen­sa­tion of being Masters object causes my being to ache, to tremble, to ignite.

I am always Masters object, just as I am always his slave, the two stem from the same place but bring a whole dif­fer­ent level of pleas­ure to me and hope­fully to Master.  I feel euphoric to have been of good use for Master this even­ing, I only wish that Master will desire to use me again before bedtime.

~His