The epiphany

I think everytime that I’ve had an epiphany it’s been a life-changing moment and this time was no exception.

Where I was blaming Master for not being dominating enough to make me feel like a slave, I was actually not treating Him as my Master. Where I felt that He should be keeping me in line, I was not taking responsibility for my own actions. By not asking Master permission to do things and just doing them I was not giving Him my submission, not leaving the final decision to Him.I had been abusing the priveledges accorded to me by Master and was blinded by my arrogance. MD (a domly friend) summed it up so well when he said that I was not being serious about my collar. My lack of calling Master “Master” to His face, my habit of going wherever, whenever I wished and my lack of affording Master the respect He deserved were all fairly serious digressions and indications that I wasn’t really taking my slavery seriously.

So I churned things over in my head for a couple of days and then finally I bit the bullet and decided to discuss things with Master over dinner. I really felt so bad about the whole thing. Everything that I had done was so wrong and I felt foolish. I really wanted to take back the last week and just start again. I was really beginning to doubt my last six months-I hadn’t really been in slavery at all and I knew that I needed help.

So Master took it all patiently. He knows me well in that He gives me time to come around and say things when I am ready. He never forces me to say things-knowing that in time I will be able to say what I want to say.

I suggested that I offer my leash to Him everyday when I come home from work to put me in the mind set. The leash that I had bought Master for xmas was a ‘peace offering’ of sort -a gesture to show that I was ready to be ‘chained’ to my Master again.
And He suggested a few things to help me learn my place too: to avoid looking Him in the eyes, to never be above Him in height and to decide a penance for myself-something to reiterate my slavery.
I have two weeks to decide a penance along with a task to buy a ‘kitten bowl’ for my food.
( i just love the slogan on the window of the pet shop “Every pet’s every need”…indeed!)

After dinner Master said that He was going to take me for a drive. I stripped and He lead me outside by the leash to the rock in the back yard. Master scent-marked me then put me into the car and off we went. His idea was to put me into one of the cages at the animal shelter. I was naked, leashed and covered in Master’s scent. I felt so very though I could fit into Master’s pocket. But god was I nervous-nervous of being seen, of being stopped by the police etc. I think I aged 10 years. Unfortunately the shelter was closed so we came home again and Master gave me a bath and an enema. He sat me in the bath like you do a dog and washed me down so gently and said that from now on, enemas were going to be part of my daily routine. As I witness Master chipping away at my privacy and establishing His control in even the most basic parts of my existence I am surprise by my lack of resistance. Of course there is a terrible amount of embarrassment there but no feeling whatsoever of not wanting to comply.

Having my daily drink is also a lovely slavish activity. I don’t feel any particular humiliation in Master using me as a toilet..just a satisfaction that I am being useful and honoured. It is so much easier to drink Master’s than my own.

Master has also said that He thinks it’s time for me to experience play with others. The thought scares the hell out of me. It gives me a mixture of emotions from fear to jealousy and with a good sprinkling of curiousity.

So although I have a terrible feeling that I’ve tightened the noose around my own neck, I feel content. The more used I am the more content I am and hopefully I am giving Master pleasure which in turn makes me happy. It truly is a symbiotic relationship and needs good communication to stay healthy. I appreciated the fact that Master too said that He had left things go on too long without interceding, that perhaps things had needed to be done from the start. We all make mistakes, would like to edit things in hindsight, but it is most comforting that Master presents to me His human side- that He is not infallible. I tend to forget that He is not god-is not all-seeing and all-knowing, and needs to know what I think and I feel. That is all part of making the relationship work and like any good partnership effort needs to be made on both sides.


It all started last Tuesday, the last night of my second day off before I went back to work. I’d been in alt and had passed a comment along the lines of that I was in need of something, anything to get me down off the ceiling. Master said to me ‘Oh, so your antzy are you?’ to which I didn’t really reply. I’d been sick, He’d been sick and all up it had been weeks since we had last played. I understood that we can’t really do anything when we’d not feeling the best, but there was a part of me that remembered turning down the 100th request for sex from my ex because my big toe ‘hurt’or my eyes were ‘tired’ -any little excuse to get out of something I really didn’t want to do. Not playing because we were not 100% seemed to me to be too much like an ‘excuse’.

So that night while putting me to bed Master said “We’d better do something about you then”. So He gave me a super-light whipping, turned the light out and left.
Something in me just snapped at that point. A lot of frustration and anger that had been welling up bubbled to the surface. I felt like He’d just whipped me to shut me up, and to me, being the instigator of play is something that feels so wrong. So I thought ‘Fine, if He’s going to treat me like that then I won’t give Him any service.” I only spoke to Him when I needed to, kept my distance, didn’t touch Him in anyway. I was really angry and a part of me wanted to see what He would do.

A few days later I was talking with my sister about the whole situation. She seemed to think that we were no better than a married couple and the more we talked, the more I began thinking that Master really hadn’t been doing a very good job at all. Here I was busting my gut, doing everything I could to be a good slave but He wasn’t providing me with the environment that I needed to blossom. I kept thinking it was His job to pull me in line, give me direction and I wasn’t feeling particularly slavish at all. I was angry at myself for getting into another relationship that I was not happy in and thinking what the fuck was I going to do. I didn’t for a moment think that any of this situation was my fault and thought that I had been a ‘good slave’. I didn’t want to be in another unhappy ‘marriage’, I wanted more, I wanted to be the slave that I knew I could be.

Christmas came and left and by this stage the whole situation was punishing me more than it seemed to be having an effect on Master. My anger had mutated into sadness and I was wallowing in a well of self-pity wondering how I was going to get myself out of this situation. He’d woken me to take what was still his physically but mentally no longer belonged completely to Him and although I got the little thrill that I usually did in that situation, I was also thinking “How dare He?”

So I felt that I needed someone to talk to, to get an opinion. I’m generally good in picking up non-verbal clues but in this relationship which was something totally new to me, I didn’t know whether I was reading the clues from Master the right way and I needed confirmation. I didn’t consciously go out and try and find someone to talk to but one day in alt MD commented that I sounded down and ask me if I need someone to talk to. So we chatted for a bit on msn. It’s interesting how you tend to think that all doms will have the same ideas about things but naturally what he said was very different to when I had spoken to G and different from Master.

We spoke about my needs as a slave, as a person and what was needed to make this sort of relationship work. And he told me many things that I really didn’t want to be told that rattled me to the core. And finally he told me what I had known all along that I needed to do, talk to Master.

The other side of the fence

I was so nervous..God!..meeting a family member..and Master’s sister at that.But she was great. Although, it would of been better if both of us had been healthy..but one can’t have

It’s always so amusing to meet siblings and other family members. You see a whole completely different side of the One you think you know so well. And Master’s sister is hilarious! She has a great sense of humour and a personality that really appeals to me. Although she’s seen so much pain in her life and had to deal with so much, she remains really positive and that is very impressive.

I was wondering how much Master had told her about us. It appears a lot less than I had thought.I really had to laugh when she got really annoyed about Master not ironing His own shirt and about Him perving on other women. That was apparently how a little discussion about our ‘spethcial’ relationship began between them. Master explained that He owned me, that that was what my ‘necklace’ represented and that it was locked in place. She later asked a few questions about us and Master told her about my offer of service and was going to show it to her but she noticed how uncomfortable I felt about her reading it and said that she wouldn’t (thank god!). She asked if we had had a time limit or a trial period and about a few other things. I felt that it was good that she was interested and felt ok asking us about things.

I’ve never really been a sociable person- always enjoying my own company but I do go through periods when I crave to go out, to mix with other people. Part of me wanted to go with them to dinner on Wednesday night, but I didn’t want to risk getting seen on a day I’d taken off sick and I wanted Master and his sister to spend some time alone together. I always find it difficult when I go home and visit with my sister and her husband is always there. There are times when I would like to just be with her alone. Because I’d had that experience I really wanted to let them have some peace and quiet.

Girl talk

I’ve really enjoyed the couple of chats Master and I have had recently. It takes me back to the days when we first ‘met’ and we’d spend hours and hours chatting. I had saved most of our chat logs but they were left in my computer in Japan. It’s such a shame that I don’t have them because my retention of what we exchanged is so pitifully bad.

There was a certain image of Master that I had built up in the days when we were chatting. I’d only seen a couple of headshots of Him and really didn’t have a good idea of what He looked like. Although even when we chat now, His voice in my head as I read over His words is exactly the same as it was then. His written words always seem much sterner and scarier and I think that is why I was so thrown when we first met. I guess I had expected the ‘scary dom in the black cape’. His words always used to bore into me and make me feel every inch a slave when that was His intention and light and playful at other times.

A log that I like to call Master’s affirmation is one that I have always saved. It was a chat we had a few days before i left Japan and when I was going through some serious emotional issues.

The trappings and rituals of slavery are very important, perhaps more important in this society, where the slavery itself must be an intimate secret, to the feeling of ownership and domination to the slave. One of the most important trappings of slavery is the collar. Collars serve three purposes. First, to identify the collared as a slave. Second, to provide a convenient method of affixing bonds to a slave or of securing them. Third, and most important, they impress upon the slave her slavery. The weight of an honest steel collar is lighter far than the million social chains and bonds of an unhealthy society, but its realness, its weight, and the sense that it will not come off save at the whim of the owner, are terrifying and precious to the slave girl.
kitten :
yes…so beautiful…it’s that mix of emotions..the paradox that is so erotic..terrifying and precious, strength and submission…
it sears the soul.My God……that is so…intense.The word “initiation”just resonates with layers of meaning
Does the thought of being tied down, bent over and being used (Insert gratuitously fucked here) excite you?
Do you find yourself dreaming of being a sexual object boy / girl toy a central theme in your fantasies?
Have you found, during your past sexual encounters, you enjoyed pleasing your partner more than pleasing yourself?
Is there a deep sensual fire burning within you to be set free?
Do you find yourself wanting it all the time?
At the core of your being are you a (for lack of a better word) a SLUT?
Does the thought of someone else having complete control over your sexuality for THEIR pleasure call to you?
Are you often consumed with thoughts of being loaned or rented out to others for their sexual pleasure ?
Do you want to be owned?
Can you let go of everything that you think you are in order to find yourself?
Are you intelligent, outgoing and capable of learning?
kitten :
how many ways are there to say “yes”?
thank You for giving me this reaffirmation Master…I must not lose sight of the fact that I am a slave to the core
M :
*smiles…exactly kathy…more importantly – you are My slave
kitten :
yes, Master forgive me..I am Your slave
M :
strokes her are My slave – My slut – My whore – My property
kitten :
yes, Master I am all of this…I am Yours
M :
hugs His girl
kitten :
and I love being Yours with every fibre of my being
M :
*smiles – good girl – Master is pleased
kitten :
I’m sitting here shaking with a variety of emotions trying to remember to breathe
Master, when I think about being a slave I feel that it’s so wonderful and terrifying and so…right…I have no others words to describe it
M :
kitten :
I wish I could explain it to my husband…maybe then he would let me go
M :
he is not going to have to just leave…you are chained to Me now

Thinking back to the first few weeks after I arrived I was so on edge. I so didn’t know how to act, react or even just be. It reminded me of the first few months when I was in my first relationship. I always used to wake up and brush my hair and put makeup on before he awoke. I was also so careful that he didn’t see the bad side of me-eating junk food or passing wind etc. I would even go to public toilets to do a number two! I’m not sure if it’s a girl thing or just me but looking back I had some serious issues. Granted there are still things that I won’t do when Master is around if I can help it but I’m not so pedantic anymore-I’ve given myself a little slack to be human.

Loves, likes,needs and wants

One thing I’d always been insanely curious about was what Master enjoyed doing the most. So I asked and the answer was pleasingly surprising….He enjoys putting me in bondage and marking me.

I’m not really sure what I was expecting Him to answer but for some reason I didn’t think that bondage would be high up on His list. My mind was probably where it always is..waaay down in horny haven..and I was expecting Him to say fucking me in the ass or something along those lines.

He then went on to say that He enjoys knowing that I am His and that He can do anything He wants with me. I’ve often wondered about it better to have something slightly out of reach than right in your lap? We sometimes tend to value things that are hard to get and I wonder if having a girl at your ‘beck and call’ takes the fun out of it???

Shame on you!

hame on you!
Dec. 8th, 2005 | 07:59 pm
I had a very interesting chat with Master last night. I’d been meaning to ask Him what He enjoyed the most about our relationship for quite a while but had never really worked up the courage. Not that it is an off-limits question or anything, there’s just a certain amount of embarassment

Shame, embarassment, self-consciousness, it’s all much the same thing. Although I feel a certain amount of self-consciousness when people stare at me like I’ve got two heads, I’m beginning to find it all amusing. I’ve always thought that it would be more embarassing to be the one holding the leash anyway.I think that being in a collar gives you a certain amount of anonymity and protection whereas the Owner is the one looked upon with scorn. There’s always a certain aspect of these sort of relationships where there is a ‘battered’ woman and the ‘violent’ man. On the surface it would be nothing more than dv. But to those in the know there could be nothing further from the truth.

I’ve sometimes wondered just how far I would go in public without fears or qualms. If Master told me to do something, theoretically I would have no choice but to obey, but that would not erase how I would feel inside.
Master mentioned how much He enjoys the knowledge that I am His and that He can do whatever He chooses with me. And while it is a huge responsiblity in one sense, it is also a thing that could be so badly abused.

To have trust in Master that He will not abuse what is His and the knowledge that He will not harm me (hurt, yes, but not harm) allays my fears, but there is also that little sliver of uncertainty that wedges itself into our interactions. Just how far will He go and what is He thinking behind that smiling facade? It scares the hell out of me but also makes me so very wet.


n 1: a feeling of satisfaction at having achieved your desires
2: the act of consummating something (a desire or promise etc)

What fulfills you, creates peace in your heart and brings forth a smile on your face? What satiates the yearning in your belly for completion and wholeness?
My slavery does all these things and much more….

I believe that a Master does not merely sculpt his work of art, he coaxes His Masterpiece from out of the medium by removing the superfluous fragments.

Tolerance of all things

I’m in two minds about last night’s play.On one hand I loved it. It was rough, raw and ravishing. I felt well used and a perceptible tightening of my chain. I love to have my slavery impressed upon me in a variety of ways. So that I never forget for a moment who and what I am.

On the other hand I was disappointed in myself. 30 mins in the armbinders and I was ready to do anything for release. I hate the fact that they got the best of me, that I was weak and couldn’t endure.
I’m also learning a fear for the cane. Not a fear of being physically hurt or of the cane itself, but a fear that I can’t control the pain. Part of me wants to be thrashed really thoroughly, to be bruised and battered so that I can be proud of my strength. But another part of me is terrified that I can’t take it.

I think I’m beginning to understand what training is for. It’s practise to build up your tolerance. To prepare and push you a little further each time.When you play regularly you build on your foundation a little more each time as the pain is still fresh in your min d, but when there are large gaps between play sessions you go back to zero. That’s what keeps happening to me- I lose the memory and de-evolve.

A lot of me going to the gym is about proving my strength to myself. Of course I like the music and combinations and things but I enjoy pushing myself and the feeling that I’ve ‘used my body well’. I like the feeling of exhaustion and the success when I can do things. I am always more content when I’ve reaffirmed my power. I use the gym for an outlet for my energy and as a way of ‘punishing’ myself I guess. I always go more and push myself harder when I feel a lack of other ‘punishment’ in my life.

Happiness is truly about balance. Too much or too little and the happiness is replaced by dissatisfaction or frustration. Finding that fine line and making a success of the balancing act is an elusive art.


“we (slaves) are here, after all, to feel the tightening and shortening of the chain. i’m certain i’m not alone in not simply wanting to serve for the sake of serving. in all honesty, i’m more selfish than that. i want to serve a Man with whom i feel my slavery. one who will make it a point to tug that leash when need be. it’s kind of like going for a roller coaster ride and testing the safety bar around you several times … just to be sure you’re in safe. for me, that’s what a collar is (among other things) … a reminder of my safety … a reminder that i am owned property and will be cared for as well as used. i am not a bratty slave but if i feel my collar loosening, i feel upheaval in my world. so i might pull and tug and make sure it’s still a tight fit. it is, as you said, a natural reaction.”

After having my collar removed the other day to put Master’s “O Ring” on I’ve been thinking about what my collar really is. It is so much more than a heavy steel band on my throat. While it is a tangible expression of my slavery it also protects and guards me. It lightens the burden on my soul with it’s weight. Taking the collar off didn’t hurt. It had encircled my neck 24/7 for 4 months but there was pain- a feeling of loss for something that belongs there.

I’m very happy that it’s back with a new addition. I knew what I should buy Master for xmas straight away. I had thought about it for His birthday but decided that birthdays are for personal presents. It was really coincidental that He had been talking about it a few days before it arrived and He thanked me for it. I was just so glad that He was pleased.

I like to play with the ring and I’m still not used to the sounds that it makes as I move around. The gym has been a bit of a challenge, but I will come up with some way to stifle the sound. When I first ordered it I was thinking about what I’d do at work and things but now that it is attached to my collar, I’m rather proud of showing it off. I lower the zip on my shirt just so everyone can see. I suppose that the general consensus for collars and chains and things is that they are humiliating and take away humanity. But I have never felt anything but pleasure and pride.

I love the way my leash attaches and the ring swivels around. I always seem to make such a noise at night I wonder how Master can sleep! I love feeling Master holding onto the end of my leash and when He pulls on it..omg…words fail me.I love the feeling of being restricted, limited, restrained by the One who owns me.