A Weekend Full of Happy

This weekend was my birthday.  Well, technically my birthday was just one day, but I claimed the whole weekend.

And T claimed me.  One of her gifts to me was to collar me.  My reaction was a combination of stunned immobilization and the little kid in me jumping up and down screaming, “WOOOOOO-HOOOOOOO!!!”

It’s still sinking in.  Such a beautiful feeling.  She is now my Mistress.  We’d been wanting to take the d/s further, and now we are.  I am now her slave.

She told me shortly afterward that we’re also going to have a few protocols from now on.  Nothing major or irritating; it’s not protocol for the sake of protocol.  And they’re things we did pretty frequently already anyway.  I just need to remember to do them every time now.

This just feels right.

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A Bottle of Dread

T has been mentioning for a while now that she wants to condition me, Pavlov-style, to fear a specific brand of water bottles.  It started with a bdsm event we were at; it was the first time we’d done piss play.  She made me drink her piss from a plastic water bottle that she’d filled up in the bathroom a few minutes earlier.  Afterward, we joked that every time I saw that brand of water somewhere, I’d cower in fear.  But then her eyes lit up, and I saw her tucking away an idea in her head for later.

It’s later.  When we were out the other day, she bought a case of this brand of water.  A case.  24 bottles.  I never know when she’s going to spring it on me.  She could come at me with a bottle of her piss at any time.  We could be playing, or we could be out with friends, on a date, or just sitting at home. Her enjoyment is inversely proportional to mine- The more I squirm and gag, the more she smiles and enjoys it.

Currently, whenever I see this brand of water, I just chuckle to myself.  But she wants to induce real fear in me whenever I see it.  Not a phobia or anything debilitating, but a genuine fear response.  It’s something I’d rather not go through with, but at the same time, I don’t see it as being harmful or detrimental to my life.  I trust her, and I do what she wants me to do.

A Hunka-Hunka Burnin’ Sexitude

Lately something has been firmly lodged in my head, and attempts to shake it out of my head have only led to concussions.

Slave branding.

It intrigues me.  Quite a few people have done branding as a body mod.  The difference is twofold though- This would be infused with much more meaning than most peoples’ brands.  Also, the environment would be different.  This wouldn’t be done in a tattoo shop by a piercer/tattoo artist.  It would be a mark of ownership, so who better then to brand me?

I’ve done a bit of research so far, and it seems doable.  But horrendously intimidating.  Really really whole bunch of intimidating a lot.  The idea of doing this is sexy; at the same time, I know I’d have to be tied down with no safeword in order to do this (which is also sexy in its own way.)  And that in itself seems like it’d have strong d/s component since I’d be wanting to back out, wanting to safeword, yet she’d go through with it regardless of my wishes.  The reality of it is that I’d be screaming and struggling the whole time.  It would probably be more physical pain than I’ve ever known.

Struggling, screaming, writhing, sizzling, sweating…… yeah, that’s sexy.  And afterward, I’d have a mark of ownership to show for it.  It’s a heavy-duty idea, and I’d have to dig around for a little more info before agreeing to something like this.  After agreeing to it…… fuckity fuck fuck.  “Intense” most likely wouldn’t even begin to cover it.