I’m leaving…

…on a jet-plane….

…don’t know when I’ll be back again…

(Well, actually I do, but let’s not spoil this musical moment.)

Master and I are off to the land of quirkiness in approximately 45 minutes so posts will be a bit few and far between for the next couple of weeks. If we get a chance, I’m sure we’ll manage to squeeze in a quickie here and there just to tantalize your taste buds.

Have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!

(Which of course leaves you WIIIIIIIDE open for entertainments of a perverse manner 🙂 )

Have you cleaned your gonzo lately?

I’d like to say that I had to clean my gonzo because it was just so cum-soaked and messy after a flood of orgasms courtesy of my hitachi that I had no other choice but to clean it, but alas, I can’t. Instead, I’ll let you know that I cleaned my gonzo because I finally found it under a pile of crap in my room.

And it was covered in dust.

That’s how long it’s been since I have gotten off.

Remember gonzo?

I’m in a release drought courtesy of mr meanie Master and I’m sure that after reading this post about me bitching about my release drought, it will continue for a long time yet.

The drought that never ends…

I’d like to mention at this point that I’m slap-bang in the middle of red plague week and therefore I’M HORNY. I don’t know what sick, twisted mind decided that the one and only time blood and assorted bodily secretions are spilling forth from your cunt should be the time that you are so horny you would hump a houseplant, but all I know is that’s how it is with me.

Sometimes. Not all the time. But definitely now.

I suppose it’s not all that long in the scheme of things since I had a release. Looking at the chart on the fridge, the last one I had was February 6th. For me it’s not that long…I’ve had droughts of 4+months in the past…but have I mentioned I’m HORNY?!?

I’m bloody and horny…


(P.S And is it just me or does this look like a drunk blog post?)

(P.PS And no, links to really hawt porn in the comments section won’t help my predicament so don’t even think about it, kthx!)

Preparations Part Deux

After angsting over night about my recently purchased sparkly jeans, I decided to take one pair back and get a pair of plain black ones instead.

But my shopping didn’t end there.

I also purchased a red trench coat that I’ve been lusting after for two years, a pair of ballet flats that I’ve been lusting over since last year and a new pair of ankle boots.

I was actually intending to get my ankle boots re-soled, but when I took them in, the guy said they were too far gone:

(Apparently having a hole that you can poke your finger into is not a good thing…)

Damn, they are the comfiest shoes I’ve ever owned! I haven’t thrown them out yet though, I feel like giving them some sort of memorial because they were such great shoes…

Today Master went to work and I did some more Japan prep. I’ve got a little folder filled with maps, coupons, bus schedules, train timetables and other assorted stuff I’ve collected to take with me so I filed it in the order of places we’ll be visiting.

Then I pencilled in places to eat meals in my spreadsheet based on the areas we’ll be in around meal times and worked out train connections so we get where we need to be on time.

Does all this sound a tad too anal to you?

This afternoon I was expecting Master home a little before 6pm so I bathed and booted up to give him his first naked slave girl greeting in about six months.

Then while I was waiting for him, naked, kneeling by the door, the doorbell rang.


It was our friends from around the corner so I ran off to my room to get some clothes on and by the time I came back to the door, they’d gone but Master had arrived. So clothes came off again and I was getting into position by the door when I saw our friends pull up again outside behind Master’s car. They must have passed him as they were leaving and turned around and came back again. So clothes went back on again.

Seriously, I felt like I was playing musical clothes with myself.

As they said, they’ve already seen me naked plenty of times before so it really wouldn’t have mattered, but you know, I like to force my nakedness on as few people as possible – I think that’s the most humane thing to do.


The domestic goddess bitch returns

It was Master’s birthday on Wednesday and being the bad slave I am, I didn’t do anything to celebrate it other than surprise him early in the morning with a quick nakedness and boots session in his bed before I left for work.

I always have such an agonising time when it comes to presents for him. Every time I ask him what he wants he says, “Nothing” and because he’s a boy, I just don’t know what to get him off the top of my head. The only thing I thought would be a good present for him – a metal money clip with card holder – I wasn’t able to find and so his birthday came and went without a present from me.

Today I kind of made amends by making him a belated birthday cake:

Apple & Pear Cinnamon Cake with Maple Cream Cheese Frosting

It sure sounds nice, doesn’t it? As far as looks are concerned, note to self:  there is no point cooking a cake in a bundt pan if you’re going to cover it entirely with icing.

After sampling a piece, I officially gave it a 7. Master gave it a 6 and then a bonus 2 points for the maple cream cheese frosting because anything with those two ingredients in it has to be good right? Damn right.

Now I’m going to get all pioneer woman-ish on your ass:

1. Mix four cups of peeled and chopped apples and pears with 1 cup of sugar and set aside for a while (I used 1 cup of canned apple and 3 cups of fresh pear & apple).

2. Sift together 3 cups of plain flour, 1 1/2 tsp baking powder, 1 tsp salt, 1 tsp cinnamon, 1/4 tsp nutmeg, 1/4 tsp ginger.

3. To the fruit mix add 1/2 cup of canola oil,

1 tsp vanilla essence,

1 cup of nuts (I used almonds, but walnuts would be fantastic),

4 egg whites (I separated the whites and beat them until soft peaks formed then added them, but I don’t think it would make all that much difference if you just dumped them in).

4. Add the flour mix to the fruit mix (add the egg whites last if you beat them).

5. Have I mentioned how much I love my nesting magnetic measuring spoons? I won these in a competition and they are the best things eva??

6. Grease a 20cm round pan and fill with batter.

7. Bake at 180c/ 325 F for 45 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean.

8. Leave to cool for at least 10 minutes and then turn out onto a wire rack to cool completely.

9. While the cake is cooling, make the frosting. You’ll need these babies:

250g cream cheese, 1/4 cup butter, 1/4 cup maple syrup (the real stuff if you’ve got it would be fantastic), 1/2 cup icing sugar, 1 tsp vanilla essence

10. Mix everything together until smooth and resist the temptation to eat the entire bowl of it then and there.

11. Slather on cake when cool and top with extra nuts or a drizzle of maple syrup.

12. Make yourself a big-ass cappuccino and enjoy the toils of your labour.


I got a call from Master today on his spiffy new mobile phone from his spiffy new office (I don’t actually know whether his office is spiffy or not, but I always like to imagine him working in a spiffy office with a secretary in a white cardigan and pearls…) He sounded chirpy and filled me in on his first day, saying things were generally good, but that boot-slut prospects for autumn were low because there was only one ‘trendy slut chick’ in the office. Fortunately, the summer sun is still blazing outside and the leaves are turning brown not because of an autumn chill in the air, but because it’s so damn hot they’re shriveling up so he won’t have to accept boot-lessness for a while longer yet.

Over the past few days I’ve made a few purchases for our Japan trip – which is next week!!! *does a little happy dance*

Terrorist regulations compliant toiletries bag:

(Resealable bag no larger than 20cm x 20cm and bottles with a capacity of no more than 80ml)

Additional terrorist regulations compliant toiletries to go in said terrorist regulations compliant toiletries bag:

(Contact solution is 120ml but exempt from 80ml limit due to being a ‘medicinal requirement’. I realised afterwards that the hairspray is 100ml so I’ll have to go in search of one 20ml smaller…)

I didn’t actually realise that the terrorist bullshit regulations were still in effect and I originally only bought small versions of everything because I was intending to save space in my itty-bitty carry-on suitcase that I have to fit everything for two weeks into:

(Obviously there ain’t many pairs of boots going into this suitcase. I’ll be wearing the only pair of boots I’m taking with me on the plane…)

After looking at my pathetically small suitcase, I came to the conclusion that I will need to live in jeans for two weeks so I purchased some new jeans that actually fit! It only took trying on 15 pairs in two different stores to find these babies:

(Bootleg on the left and skinny on the right.)

I liked the sparkles on the botty:

And it’s official…I’m officially short:

(I thought at 165cm or 5′ 5″ I was a little on the tall-side, but apparently not…)

It’s not that we’re going on a cheap airline where you have to pay to check in luggage or anything like it, the reality of travelling all over Japan in a very short space of time means we can’t be lugging luggage around. It’s just not practical and since we’re going on trains and buses and things, there just isn’t space to put a big suitcase. We are planning on buying two larger suitcases while we’re there and stuffing them full with goodies to bring back though 🙂

I also made an additional purchase while I was at the el cheapo shop. I’ve been lusting after a ped-egg ever since I first saw it on late night tv, but somehow I couldn’t justify spending $80 on a fancy pumice stone and I couldn’t live with the stigma of buying something in an infomercial. Then I saw this for $4.99 on the clearance table and I just had to have it:

(Yes, people, it’s the full 18 piece set!!!)

I also felt a little bit better about my impulse buy after I noticed this:

(“Similar to as seen on TV” lol…)

I somehow felt relieved that I had bought something that was *similar* to a ped-egg, but not quite one.

I’d avoided the infomercial stigma and at least it wasn’t a snuggie

I’ve also done a couple of Japan quirks to add to my growing list – I’ve nearly got fifty! Yeah, I know I have too much time on my hands.

Nose ring

I have to say that getting an email titled, “Nose ring” from Master has been one of my most heart-stopping moments to date.

I received it at 9:30am to my work email address and before I even opened it, I had that gut-churning-omg feeling that only comes with announcements spelling out impending doom. Yeah, unfortunately the man is still enamoured with the idea of putting a big bull ring through my nose and he is planning on doing it once he gets a job offer.

And guess what? This morning he got a job offer.

*does a little happy dance*

On one hand, it’s been a really good day. After six months of repeated interviews and teasers and a whole lot of rejection, Master received a job offer. It’s been tough on him. He’s a typical guy in not wanting to talk about how the whole experience has made him feel like shit and how the worry has been eating away at him, but being his bitch, I know these things without him even saying them.

So getting a job offer has been great. The day before his birthday and a week before Japan, nothing could be a better present. We’ll both be able to relax ‘on vacation’ knowing we’ll still have a house to live in and food to eat when we come back (Well, maybe he’ll be relaxing. I’m sure during the whole Japan trip I’ll be a tight ball of angst on the verge of a meltdown.)

It’s not exactly his dream job because it’s far away and paying less than his previous job did, but we both agree at this stage of the game, any job is a good job.

On the other hand, it has also been a terrifying day because for months he has been saying,

‘Once I get a job, I’ll finish marking you how I want.’

And of course his idea of marking me is a tongue piercing, a septum piercing and another tattoo or two or three.

And now he has a job. So we all know what this means now, kiddies, don’t we??

This would actually be one of the times that if I had a safeword, I’d be screaming it from the mountains or I’d have it painted on the side of a blimp and have it float past his bedroom window.

As you can see, I’m not the most willing victim.

So the job offer has been a bit of a two-sided blade for me. For Master it’s just plus and plus and I can feel his grin from all the way over here.

A slave’s victory

There are moments when I feel so powerful and so in control that I almost get giddy with the joy it gives me.

But hang on, I’m a slave and I’m not supposed to be the one ‘in control’ or the one with ‘the power’. Aren’t I supposed to be the oppressed, the subjugated, the one who is at the mercy of the whims of her owner?



But, as I said, there are moments when I quite literally smile at having Master right where I want him.

The moments I’m talking about are the moments in the post-coital haze when he has cum and I can’t stifle my grin because once again I’ve had victory over him. He has cum because of me and he can’t stop it. In fact, he has about as much chance of stopping a bus with his pinkie finger as he does ending a ravishing without cumming.

Seriously, I can’t stop myself from grinning. There he is, just about to tip over the edge into ejaculation territory and when I feel the change in his rhythm and hear him holding his breath, I start grinning from ear to ear and I can’t stop myself.

Does that make me weird?

First of all I thought the smiling was from a feeling of satisfaction. I thought maybe I was feeling that I’d done a good job as his fucktoy and it made me happy. But when I really starting thinking about it, I realised that I was feeling powerful and in control and like I was *the* cause of Master’s sexual pleasure.

I’m sure it’s just as easy to take it the other way and think I’m just an object for use and pleasure and therefore don’t have any power, but I can’t seem to get my mindset going that way – the ‘proper slave’ way.

Is it a bad thing?

Master seems to think my grinning is funny. He finds it amusing that I’m amused so I don’t know whether he thinks it’s cute that I’m feeling ‘in control’ or whether it’s just a case of infectiouslaughitis.

I think it might be another one for the “I have no fucking idea” basket.

Oh, you want to suck my cock…

It was hot and thanks to the sweat pooling in my boots, my feet had slipped forward, squishing my toes making walking a very uncomfortable experience. I’d been in the boots since 7:30 that morning when I made an appearance in his bedroom for a pre-work ravish and after walking around the shops after work and here, there and everywhere in them, the minute I got home I desperately wanted them off.

This is where the evil-Master-gets-his-revenge-on-his-slack-ass-slave thing comes into play because when I asked to remove them, he predictably said, “No.”

So I unpacked the shopping and helped make lunch and I asked again. Again, of course, he said, “No.”

Then he put his lunch in the fridge and snapped his fingers in the direction of the bedroom indicating that I had ‘work to do’ if I wanted the boots off.

So off to the bedroom we went and a bit of interrogation, followed by some ravishing ensued and then he ‘assumed the position’ for The Job™ to begin.

Let me just say here, I’m not the biggest fan of The Job™. I never have been and I probably never will be and thanks to my wonder tmj, it also hurts big time. But I wanted the boots off and I wanted them off now so instead of doing my usual amount of distracting banter and trying to wheedle myself out of having to do The Job™, I got into position with half the amount of stalling and was about to begin The Job™ when I heard the click of the fingers.

Now, normally the click of the fingers means he has had sufficient pleasuring from The Job™ and it’s time for me to get into position for The Ravishing™, but on this occasion I hadn’t even started.

Heading back up north with a puzzled look on my face, he said,

“I just wanted to make you realise that my pleasure comes first.”

To which I said,

“WTF? I was all psyched up and in position and everything!”

To which he said,

“So do you want to take your boots off or do you want to suck my cock?”

To which I said,

“You get me naked, in boots, to do The Job™ and now I don’t have to do it? We could be out there eating lunch!”

To which he said,

“So do you want to take your boots off or do you want to suck my cock?”

So I answered with my mouth….

To which he said,

“Oh, so you want to suck my cock…”

And the little-boy-surprised tone in his voice was priceless. If my mouth hadn’t been filled with cock at the time I would have laughed so hard. As it was, I stifled all but a few snorts and carried on with The Job™.

Then later I took off my boots, we had lunch together and all was well with the world.

Let me ask you a question or two…

March seems to be the month when people around the blogosphere invite people to ask them questions. Being the quirky, non-conformist, oh-so-cool type that I am, I thought I might ask questions instead of answering them (because seriously, there is nothing in my life that I haven’t already blogged about fifty millions times…)

So here are the questions and I look forward to reading your answers in the comments:

1. If you were Roman, what would your name be??

>>  Mine would be Gaseous Lucius.

2.  If you were a crayon, what colour would you be?

>> I’d be  Anal Retentive – a rosy shade of pink that corresponds with the rising blood going to my cheeks when people around me aren’t anal enough and I get stressed.

3. Your house is on fire and you can only take three things. What would they be?

>> Hmmm….my wallet, my envelope with all my useless pieces of paper certificates and degrees in it and my bag of photos (yes, I’m not ashamed to say I have all my photos in a bag specifically in case the house catches on fire and I need to leave quickly. For reasons why, see no.2)

4. What was your scariest experience?

>> This one is a toss-up between landing at Bali airport on Garuda Air ( I believe nose-diving the airplane towards the runway and frantically pulling up at the last minute is not the correct way to land) and my first large earthquake in the middle of the night. Hello, heart-attack anyone?

5. Something you’re proud of doing?

>> Learning another language. I know it’s not a really rare thing to be able to do, but I’m proud I’ve got something under my belt that not every has.

If you can’t be bothered to answer the questions, I’ve also added a couple more Japan quirks for the apathetic souls amongst us.