After I finished blogging last night I decided to go back through my old entries as a trip down memory lane. I’d cleaned up my slave cell (i.e my room full of crap) earlier in the day and while going through papers and uni notes I stumbled across a few blog entries I’d handwritten in 2005. I started out with a slave journal that I was required to write in every day and then when I got a bit more blog-savvy I started writing here and typed up most of the old entries- most- but not all. I’ve been saying to myself that I’d get around to it one day, and two years on I still haven’t.
I have to say that most of my earlier entries are crap. While there’s still the familiar thread of angsting and bitching about anything and everything, I really didn’t have the blogging mojo. There was also so much gushing about ‘Master this…’., ..’Master that…’ that the whole exercise of re-reading it almost made me puke. Fuck I was stupid.
But one interesting thing that did come through was the same sense of needing bondage and not getting enough of it. I guess in retrospect I was getting a reasonable amount of play and in some cases it’s more than I’m getting now. I’d say that the ‘variety’ of use I used to get was larger and there was definitely more of the ‘down and dirty’ stuff.
My former owner and I had very little in the way of a ‘connection’. We didn’t talk a lot and mostly that was because he was a boy (hahahaha) and I was a slave who was trying to play the role of a ‘put up and shut up’ bitch. He wasn’t very interested in me as a person and while we talked about work ,because we ended up being employed in the same place, and WoW, because we both played it, that was about the extent of it. I never knew much about his family and he knew next to nothing about mine. To all extents and purposes we were just two people sharing the same space and doing some kinky stuff every now and then.
I left Japan in early June, 2005 and went to live with ‘that guy who shall remain nameless’ by the end of June the same year. By September I knew things were wrong, and by January I was no longer wearing his collar. The months rolled by as I tried to salvage things and made numerous attempts at starting again, but when my grandmother had her first heartattack in June of 2006 and needed someone to be with her, it seemed like the perfect time to go. And go I did. Stating that he ‘didn’t use me enough’ as my biggest reason for going.
So, nearly two years later I’m here with Master and still not getting enough use. Life is ironic isn’t it??
This whole Japan-in-my-face thing has really made me just want to pack my things and go. I mean, if I’m just going to be getting my bondage fix through masturbating and stuff I do to myself then I did that just fine in Japan and can do it again. I’m sure I could play at wearing a collar and take it off at those times when I’d really like to- like in the pool or at the gym, that I can’t now- and things would be sweet.
Who needs a Master anyway? Just someone who bosses you around and fucks with your mind.
And if I can’t get to Japan, there is this other guy who lives in Perth that I’ve kept contact with over the time I’ve been here. Master was suspicious of him from the start, and still ribs me about it now saying that this guy wants to put my notch on his belt. He asked me to be a model for his photography and I liked that we shared similar interests (Shibari!!!) and the fact that he never wanted a slave, just someone to play with. Hmmm…I might just give him a call. …
Turning a new leaf and starting a new life at the beginning of a new month seems a wonderful thing to do for me. Now…if only everyone remembers the date today…