This girl – speaking in the third person

It was a way of getting me to settle into my new role, as His submissive. Very soon after we got together, Master asked me to use the third person when referring to myself. At first I thought he was joking. But, no he wasn’t. He suggested I use one of the following: this one or this girl. I wrote last year about being called a girl at the age of 50 something and how strange that felt. This girl was a step on from that, but it is what I chose.

For a time on this blog I wrote in the third person. I did it to get used to referring to myself in that way. I stopped because not every post lends itself to being written in the third person. Plus it wasn’t an expectation. There are plenty of times, face to face though when I refer to myself as this girl. He pretty much always calls me girl or this girl.

Where does it come from?

As far as I can see, third person speak in this context comes from the Gorean Lifestyle. Within this culture, the Master has total control over the slave, who in turn has given herself (and it is usually a her) to be owned property. An object to be used as the Master sees fit. The slave girl has no rights, not even to her own name. At the same time the Master cherishes his slave and trains and nurtures her natural femaleness, so she emerges into her true slave.

There is nothing Gorean about our relationship or lifestyle. But Master’s desires for a slave he can own and possess appear rooted in these ideals. At the beginning of the relationship, giving up my given name when with him did help me to let go of external constraints to submission.

How speaking in the third person influenced the development of our relationship

On returning from a short break away together when for several days I had referred to myself as this girl, I wrote.

The difference between Julie, the career woman, mother, daughter and estranged wife and joolz the submissive was greater than it has ever been. Ever!

31st March 2015.

I had learned to let go. To trust another person to take full control of me. One by one he took decision making from me and somehow peeled away the layers I had built up over the years. It is strange to look back now on the person I was, the one who always had to be in charge and control. Referring to him as Sir and myself as this girl was a large part of that process. Because every time you open your mouth to say something, you have to consider your words very carefully. Every time you do something you think about whether you are doing something that is for his pleasure. That was the start of my journey to becoming his slave.

This girl now

She still exists, though it is not overtly evident. Not all of the time anyway. Most days I do consider my slave self. Think of this girl and reflect. I tend to hold my collar when doing it. We don’t have rituals or rules as such. Everything is embedded. I generally know how to behave and what he expects of me. In my head I often think of myself not as Julie but this girl.

To him, that is exactly who I am. He only calls me by my given name when referring to me to others.

But the third person speech is only heard in the bedroom or during play. It naturally flows from my tongue during those times. At the same time it invigorates him and shows him where the power lies in our dynamic.

Forced to orgasm

So much is written about denial. Not being allowed to come is a major part of many D/s dynamics. The need that exists within in the person being denied, and being edged and then denied again. Being forced to orgasm several or even many times is quite something too. Both are about power and control. Of one person over another. This is often what lies at the heart of a Dominance and submission dynamic.

Restrained

Imagine you are that woman secured to the St Andrew’s cross. The leather cuffs are each lined with soft fabric, and these encase your wrists and ankles. You are attached to the cross by hooks that have been clipped onto the cuffs at each point. Your nipples have been clamped, as has your clitoris. The three are joined by a chain that jangles across your tummy. You have a butt plug in your arse and a dildo inserted into your cunt.

Then imagine you don’t actually know where your tormentor is or how long you have been secured like this. You are blindfolded and have a raunchy madonna track emanating from headphones.

Your senses are confused. On the one hand you are anxious, after all you don’t know what is coming next. But damn it, you are horny. Especially when the dildo starts to move, up and down, in and out of your wet cunt. The sense of social isolation feels weird, you call out, but no one speaks. Instead the music changes, it’s something slower, more sensual. Hold, by Vera. How apt you think. You let the music wrap itself around you after all this is your lover now. The rhythm of the dildo continues, tracing a steady path.

Tortured

Suddenly it starts. The unmistakable sound of the wand. Buzzing loudly, just detectable over the music. He is there now, in front of you and even though you can’t see him, or feel him yet. You know it.

At first this is just the feeling you need. Direct stimulation on your clitoris that you have needed all along. The pressure from your full vagina and arse has been building and now you feel release just around the corner. You press your cunt onto the bulb of the wand. All the time the dildo slides in and out, but now it feels less tight, more wet. That’s because of the fluid you are producing from inside course. The orgasm rises from deep inside and knowing you’ve agreed that you don’t need to ask for permission that need fills every space. Crying out to the unseen man, “Thank you Sir” you say. He moves the wand away and you wait to be released from your restraints.

But, that isn’t what this sadist is planning. Far from it.

He begins to stroke you. Neck, shoulders, arms, tummy and then around the shaved mound. Finally he strokes your swollen clit and at the same time releases one of the nipple clamps and then sucks hard, giving some warmth and relief. “Come” He says and you just do. Its a surprise because it isn’t what you expected to happen.

Forced to orgasm multiple times

He removes the other two clamps and caresses his property gently then more roughly. Biting your nipples one after the other, while rubbing your sore clit.

The buzzing starts again, just as the music changes. Senses are now at the very edge of pleasure and pain. Again your clit responds, even though you would rather it didn’t. You know your body wants and needs this while at the same time you wish you could run away. The sadist takes 3 more orgasms from that sensitive and painful body, before the dildo stops moving. Gradually and gently he removes the restraints and then carries you over to the nearby bed.

Without the blindfold you can now look him in the eye. He is grinning as he crouches over you, legs astride, your still twitching body. You kiss deeply and passionately.

“My slut” he says. “My wanton beautiful slut” I expect you’ve had enough for now, that you have no need for cock. Your mind screams to over rule your sore and tired body. “Please Sir, yes I do. I need your cock inside my slutty body” He moves your hand to feel his dick, already oozing with pre-cum. Slowly he pushes inside you and begins to thrust in and out. Suddenly you don’t feel as if you have orgasmed at all today. The pressure begins to build, this time around the safety of your owner, the man with the power and control. Once again you are forced to orgasm. You have no control.

Exhibited for his pleasure

E

The harness served to frame my upper body. Under my arms and around my tits, before fastening at the back. My nipples tingled, held tightly within bejewelled shields stood hard and proud. The collar, attached to the harness was wide, and quite tight. This meant I could only look ahead of me, my field of vision therefore was limited.

It was difficult to know how long ago Master left me in this position, by the main door. My legs spread wide, hands behind my back, hard nipples tingling under pressure. Quite a few people had already walked past. Some had looked me in the eye, nodding in greeting. I of course had kept my face and eyes impassive, as instructed. I couldn’t deny feeling both apprehensive and excited about tonight’s proceedings. The culmination of my training as Master’s slave.

My role during the first part of proceedings was to be an exhibit.

An object to be looked at and admired. Master planned to have people to touch and arouse me. To play with me a little and perhaps use me. This both scared and excited me.

“Most people are here now” Master suddenly appeared in front of me. “Shall we go?” He held up a leather leach and clipped it to the ring at the front of her collar. I carefully moved my feet so that I would be able to walk and then concentrated on putting one heeled foot in front of the other and followed, hands still behind my back.

I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was still warm outside. The day had been sunny and even though it was getting dark, there was a humidity to the evening. In any case, rather than being cold as you’d expect when naked, I felt hot, aroused. It was almost as if heat emanated from my cunt and nipples.

Wearing a harness

Play thing

Master led me towards someone I recognised, a friend from our local club. “Doesn’t she look quite the exhibit” Giles smiled in appreciation. I felt myself blush a little “May I?” he asked. Master nodded and Giles looked me in the eye as he ran a finger around the front of the harness. “These are lovely” my nipples tingled as he touched the shield and squeezed a nipple.

“What would you like to do with her? ” Master asked his friend with a grin. Giles was running his fingers down my tummy his eyes on my shaved cunt. “Perhaps a little flogging?” Master led me to a bench that had been set up outside and I leaned over it. “Good girl” he whispered to me.

One by one, Master’s friends, male and female were offered use of me. Everyone else either mingled, played in their own couples or groups or stopped to watch. Over the course of the next while, maybe an hour I was watched, played with and generally used. Flogged and caned. Poked with toys and fingers. I sucked several cocks and was licked almost dry. I kneeled, and crawled for the pleasure of others. Then finally Master fucked me in full view of everyone.

At last, sore and tired I was released from the collar and harness and taken away by my fellow submissives.

I took off my shoes and went with them to prepare for the ceremony.

My permanent collaring. Master had told me that once he put the steel collar around my neck I would be his and his alone. Of course, that was the case already, but in future others would not be allowed to touch me.

My friends helped me shower and moisturise, then apply my makeup. At last they dressed me in the simple white dress I had chosen for the occasion. Low cut at the front, the dress gathered under my braless tits. The skirt flowed dreamily down to my bare feet. I was naked underneath but the garment made me look somewhat chaste. Holding the hands of Beth and Sam my two best girl friends we walked back into the garden where everyone waited.

As the three of us emerged silence fell on the large group and a pathway formed as everyone allowed us to walk through the throng. Master walked towards us and held out his hand. I took it and walked happily towards my fate. Slave to Master. A life long commitment.

Happy birthday to you

Like for most (if not everyone) this has been another week of crap. But I do feel for my own Birthday Boy Master more than myself and most. This week was his birthday. A special, landmark kind of birthday.

Now he isn’t one for parties or making a fuss. But he decided (after much consideration) what he wanted to do. Booked it up and paid for it. We should have spent last weekend in Budapest at a spa hotel. Instead, like for most we were home.

I tried to make Master’s actual birthday special, but I know that it wasn’t what he wanted. I bought a few ‘lockin’ type gifts and cooled his chosen meal. Later in the week we got into the bath and enjoyed a bottle of birthday Prosecco.

He is holding a champagne glass in front of his head. but the way he holds it you can tell he is happily enjoying.

I left part of the cistern in the shot because you can see my foot and know I was there too.

My way of saying happy 60th birthday to my lovely man. My Master xxxxx

The need for dominance

I am walking through the woods with my dress pulled up. I'm not wearing underwear

I thought I liked to be in charge. To have the final say, to get my own way. Well I do, but only up to a point. As an older sister I was bossy, and sometimes a bit domineering. So much so that one of my brothers bought me a post card of Adolf Hitler from a museum gift ship once. My husband was indecisive, still is of course. I made decisions because otherwise none would have been made.

When I met S, it was a relief to be given instructions, to have decision making taken from my hands. When we grew apart there were a number of things that began to grate on me. His dominance wasn’t one of them.

It’s the same with Master. It isn’t that he tells me what to do or exerts obvious control over me. But the signs are always there, often below the surface. From the first day we met, I have asked Master’s advice on things I probably would have done previously. With anyone else, save, perhaps my dad. Also I tell him things, I trust him like I have no other. Like telling him right from the beginning about my blog.

Master believes he gained a lot of useful information by having read every post I had ever written. Some of them several times. My blog has told him where my strengths and insecurities lie. Given him ideas of ways to except his power over me and give us both amazing experiences. Sometimes I have written things that I have been unable to articulate in words. This was especially useful before we lived together.

Dominance in the bedroom is always something I craved. But what I failed to recognise was my need for it in other areas. It is only now, when I look back that I can see this to be true. I like to come up with ideas of things to do and also to be consulted. But I don’t always want to be the one to have to make them happen. Or else to have to lead on making them do so. Over the years I grew weary of always being the one to make plans, or booking holidays or trips. Worse, being the one to take the brunt of stuff that went wrong.

I’m sure if others knew the extent to which I defer to Master’s decisions they would be surprised. I know I’m bratty, ‘unruly’ difficult to manage, but I am sure that is part of the appeal. For me, it is his steady unwavering control. That I feel compelled to consult even though not told to do so.

The collar is important. My commitment to him. The fact I have agreed, willingly to be his slave, his property. It serves as a constant reminder of who and what I am. Of him as my dominant, the man who put it around my neck and locked it in place. That I have a key, is irrelevant. I don’t tend to remove it without discussion. Though once or twice it has been removed in anger, it has always been put back on within hours.

Sometimes I fight against the dominance I know I need. That he knows I need. Of course, later in the series I’ll talk about my submission.

Other Ds – D/s as you would expect, day out (love a day out and wish we could have them now!) and death. Those posts relate manly to my dad who died in 2015. Lastly dungeon reviews, which I hope to continue to build on.

Wearing His Collar

Collars are such a huge symbol in the kink community. Attend any munch or kink event and you will see many people of all genders wearing them. In that context, a collar doesn’t necessarily denote that a person is submissive. But, that they consider themselves part of a community or lifestyle. Collars come in all shapes and sizes, leather, string, rope and metal. But as a submissive how does it feel to wear the collar of your dominant? In my case, His collar.

Play collar

During the first weeks of our relationship Master often put a leather play collar on me when we played. I loved the feel of it and what it represented. Plus it put me into the submissive space I needed to get into. Often we would come together at the end of a working week, at his place or mine. It took time for me to settle into that place, to move from being the responsible manager, mother to a young adult into his slut.

After a while he bought me posture collars, something I both love and hate. I don’t have the thinnest of necks but also love the tightness and restriction it provides. One of the collars was attached to a leather harness. It was when wearing these items that Master began to take more photos of me.

The first signs of permanent commitment came early in our relationship. My piercings. Of course, no one but us knew they existed.

The first external symbol

Neither of us were free to commit to each other in those early days. My ex was still coming home for odd days (and nights) and Master was still (in theory) with his primary slave. So, he bought me something to wear around my wrist. A chunky chain with a lock. To us it had the symbol of a collar worn around the neck. I wore it most, if not all of the time.

A permanent collar

In July 2015 Master collared me with a locked titanium ring. His collar. I’ve rarely removed it other than for medical reasons. My collar remains even after almost 5 years a lasting symbol of our commitment to each other. The photo below was taken on the day Master put it around my neck.

Few people know what it means and in the main even fewer mention it. Generally those that comment do so to tell me they like it. At Munches people ask if it is what they think it is. I always say that it has meaning and isn’t just for show. Because it’s made of titanium it is light weight and doesn’t set off alarms at airports. I love the look on the faces of security when I’m not called back for a pat down. When the weather is hot, or I am, I can move it around so that a cool area touches the back of my neck. Equally when feeling anxious you are likely to see me touching it. It might be a symbol, much as a wedding ring is. But I am proud to wear His collar.

Categories – C

There have been many categories beginning with C. Including censorship, Christmas and clamps. There was a fun period when I was a cock worshipping slut and more recently there is chastity. The most common reason people find my blog. A few posts on female chastity. Control feature frequently as you would expect in an M/s relationship.

She wore a butt plug

Day 2 of Blogging A-Z 2020 and today’s word is Butt Plug. I’ve written many times about wearing a plug, though only ticked it as a category 8 times. Maybe because it’s often linked with anal sex. Anyway, it’s been too long since I wrote any fiction, something I regret. So here goes.

She knew no one could see it

But that didn’t make it any easier to manage. The possibility for humiliation if anyone discovered was huge. Master had introduced this rule last week. Each morning after showering and other toilet needs she bent over while he inserted the butt plug of his choice. This was to be worn at least until lunchtime and preferably until she returned home in the evening. A rule introduced because she had become so slack at wearing it without inspection. It wasn’t that she wanted to break rules, its just that life got in the way. This ritual was to ensure that she stopped forgetting. And remembered that she was His slave. To put her firmly in her place.

Her job as personal assistant to a company director involved moving around the office a lot. She was responsible for ensuring the smooth running of the office, organising and setting up meetings and chasing after contractors. Dashing about, bending over to check something, stretching to reach something else. All part of daily life and made all the more challenging when wearing a business suit, no panties and a butt plug.

Worse though was the effect the plug had on her cunt. All day she could feel her clit throbbing. And all day she longed for relief. To feel Master’s cock inside her. Or, to have him tell her to make herself come. But this was the office and she had a responsible job.

Today’s plug was a medium sized Njoy.

The bulb had stretched her anal sphincter somewhat as it was inserted and taken a moment or two to slide into place. Now, as she sat at her desk, lowering herself carefully onto her chair, she could feel the metal ring between her buttocks. Back straight she concentrated on her posture reaching for the phone as it rang. Midday, she knew who this would be. You see, there is more to this story.

“Come in to my office slut” The voice at the other end instructed.

“Yes Sir” She replied meekly. Then standing carefully she walked quickly across the office taking care not to arouse any suspicion. But then, this was all part of daily life, and no one noticed. David was great to work for. Firm but fair, generous and understanding. But he was also Master’s best friend. The person checking she was complying with the rules. Knocking on his office door she quickly entered and flicked the sign from enter to engaged before awaiting further instructions.

“Good girl” He said, looking up.

Categories beginning with B

I wrote about butt plugs last year, but I make no excuse for doing so again. Not surprisingly the category beginning with B with the most posts is BDSM. However that is a ‘super parent’ as it were with many other subcategories underneath. There’s also blogging, body image and breast cancer which feature quite frequently (for obvious reasons). Also blow job, bondage and beaver. Yes, I once categorised a post beaver. He is a little furry friend all the way from Oregon.

Out of the Blue

I decided on the title for this post for the Wicked Wednesday prompt Blue because it’s the name of a record I own. Written and recorded by the Electric Light Orchestra in 1977 it was one of their most successful albums. It has the bonus of being a double album and now that I have a new shelf for my vinyl records in the living room, I can play it once again. My favourite track from the album is Mr Blue Sky. Which is fitting for this post.

In many ways my life is unchanged from a month ago. I was already doing what little work I do from home. We don’t need to buy a lot of things at the supermarket since there are only the two of us here, so not finding things wasn’t a big problem. Often we buy products other than food online so have no great need to go shopping more generally. But we do eat out a lot and we do go to social events. We also travel. After a long winter being at home, seeing few people, we were ready to emerge. Into the blue if you will.

On Monday March 16th we went to a lunch time concert in London. A fabulous hour of music, a tenor and a pianist. Little did we know that by that evening life would change. Now we don’t know when we can again attend any kind of gathering, much less eat in a restaurant. Or drink in a pub.

The weather though decided to play games with us. After the longest of wet and miserable winters the sun came out. Over several days the air warmed and we were able to go outside in lighter clothes. Finally last week we sat on our balcony enjoying a late afternoon gin and tonic. Sadly the weather has returned to dull and cool, though this may change at the weekend. The forecast looks promising.

The key thing though is that on the balcony we noticed that the sky is clearer and was bluer than before. There are just no aircraft flying overhead. There is little traffic and few people around. Everything looks and feels fresher. Also, events have made it necessary to appreciate different things. It now seems unlikely we’ll be able to go on holiday this year. Certainly for the foreseeable future. All our planned trips are now cancelled. But that means I can grow plants in the garden. Flowers, but also some herbs and perhaps tomatoes. We can also carry on with some decorating and decluttering.

When I go out for a walk I am taking care to listen to the birds and other sounds. The absence of traffic helps with this. I am looking at the plants, the blossom on the trees. At the sky and the clouds. I am trying to appreciate the good things that around me. Soon I should be a little busier, but for now I at least have time to think and be.

When the sun shines, as I hope it does again this year, I will be looking up at Mr Blue Sky. It feels that Out of the Blue, something terrible is offering new thoughts and feelings.

Blogging A-Z 2020 – My Archives

Blogging A-Z 2020 Badge

The Blogging A-Z for April is back. I think I remember saying last year that 2019 would be my last time, that 4 times is enough. But as they say, never say never and since we are living in strange times I am back for year 5. This year’s theme will be My Archives. And, not happy with writing a post a day, I have decided to write 2. I’m also joining in on Food, Fitness and Health.

I have a category on my blog for pretty much every letter of the alphabet (except X, Y and Z so I’ll probably improvise there). Not that surprising since I’ve been blogging for 9 years this month. So, I’m going to use those archives to write some new material. Last year, I used the archives to look back over my blog, but I’ll try to make this a bit different. I’ve been struggling to write anything kink or sex related recently so hopefully this will be just the kick up the backside I need. Each day, I’ll also write about the categories in the archive that begin with that letter.

Archived content

For this one post though I want to talk about my archived content. I created this category so that some older posts didn’t get automatically posted onto social media. You know, the kind of posts that are about past relationships. Ones where you wrote material that have aged badly or where you were in the depth of despair. Every time one of those posts popped up on Twitter my heart would miss a beat and I’d go check. That stuff doesn’t need reading, certainly not by me.

So I went through tons of material and categorised it and then set up to exclude those posts on my ‘Revive Old Posts’ widget. I currently have 159 posts in that category and may well need to add more in if I come across more such posts during this event. That doesn’t mean to say that you the reader can’t go and check them out. Of course you can, and people do. Sometimes I do, when looking for a specific event. But as for having them pop up unexpectedly, no thank you.

Other A’s

Last year I contributed a post about Abortion to the Smutathon, an annual weekend of smut writing for charity. There are 3 posts from the Art Twist meme run by the fabulous Indigo Byrd whose blog I miss very much. Finally there are 48 posts about anal sex.

I’m kind of sad to say that anal sex hasn’t been a big part of our life for a while. For a reason I don’t quite understand I find it less pleasurable than I did. I’m not good at wearing the but plug and that might be a reason. But it is certainly something we need to re discover. Maybe then I’ll be able to write about anal sex more.

Come back tomorrow for B and hopefully a more sexy post!

The joy of fiction

A woman sitting on a sofa with feet up reading.
Photo by Lenin Estrada on Unsplash

I’ve always loved books and reading and in particular fiction. For many years non fiction has tended to relate to work and study or travel. So it has been fictional story telling that has grabbed my imagination and taken me to different times and places. I wrote recently about my childhood favourites, so this post is about my favourite adulthood reads.

Just like my childhood books, I’ve kept many of the favourites of my adulthood. When I moved just under two years ago I made some difficult choices. I decided to only keep books that meant something special or might want to read again (or finish). I admit I’ve bought fewer actual books recently and have used the kindle app either on my kindle itself or on my tablet and very occasionally phone. But I really do love books, the smell of a new book is special and I always sniff a book when it arrives. The feel of the pristine pages and the excitement of opening it and getting down to a good read. Those feelings are almost erotic in themselves, but I digress.

Some of the best books I have read have been ones I have come upon by chance. For some reasons those that are top of the best sellers or recommended often don’t do it for me. One example would be The Girl on the Train. I found all of the characters irritating. Surprisingly I recently watched the film and unusually preferred the film to the book.

Books I’ve enjoyed recently

One of the most unusual but amusing and interesting books I’ve read in recent years was Hadrian the Seventh by Frederick Rolfe also know as Baron Corvo. The book is about a priest who accidentally becomes pope and was written at the beginning of the 20th Century.. It probably helps if you read a bit about the man himself, so some non fiction. He was quite the character, as is his pope.

I wrote last halloween time about the All Souls Trilogy which I particularly enjoyed last year. Books about witchcraft and vampires etc. hadn’t really been a genre of choice for me. But I stumbled upon the first book after seeing it recommended on Twitter and once I started reading I couldn’t put it down. The first book, A Discovery of Witches and is set initially in Oxford, a place I have been to quite a bit. Plus it is where Master studied. I’ve now read (or sometimes listened to) the whole of the trilogy, plus a subsequent book Time’s Convert. It was easy to get pulled into the idea that amongst us are witches, vampires and demons. With the vampires living for hundreds if not thousands of years.

Sometimes one author can take you on all kinds of journeys

I often like to read books that are part of a series, and have found some very good crime mysteries that follow on from each other. Crime mysteries is a genre I really enjoy. I particularly like books written by Elly Griffiths and she is a prolific writer. Her series about Ruth Galloway, a forensic anthropologist is a particular favourite. I’ve just bought the 12th book in this series and am looking forward to reading it soon. The series is set in Norfolk, around the area my mum lives and I’ve often imagined driving along some of the same roads!

Elly Grifiths also writes under the name Domenica de Rosa, and I have enjoyed some of these books, set in Italy. They were a particularly good read last summer as you can feel the ambiance of the Italian summer as you read. Finally she also writes the Stephens and Mephisto books which are set in Brighton from the 1950s onwards. Stephens is a policeman and Mephisto a magician who helps him solve murders.

The joy of Audible Fiction

Just as I enjoy listening to podcasts either in the car or when I am out walking. I also love to listen to audible books. I prefer the spoken word when on a long journey and have listened to many books that way. Sometimes I both read and listen to the same book. Picking up where I have left off with the other method. It’s particularly great with long books and very useful when you feel too tired to actually read. Or of course are driving.

My current audible book (which I’m not reading too) is Wrong Way Home by Isabelle Grey. I’ve some how come into a series about a police detective (Grace Fisher) on book 4. But plan to go back to number 1 after this.