Exposed

A couple of weeks ago, before all the punishment, I was in New Orleans with a task from my Dom to show my tits to someone to earn some beads. I had explained to him that it's not that easy when it isn't Mardi Gras, that people don't just go around flashing their tits at the world. But he wanted it anyway and so far I hadn't managed it. I told the story here.

Our night last night was fun, we got dressed up and went to Galatoire's which is right on Bourbon Street. The dress I wore is my very low cut one that. I have worn it before and I think it felt more secure back when I had more to hold it in place. It feels a bit precarious now to be honest. I tested it before I went out in it, to know how easy it would be to expose myself in it, as I have done most if not all nights, slipping down the bodice and the bra straps to whatever I am wearing, trying to see if it can be pretty, sexy, and not too fussy and enabling me to slip it off my tits to expose them. I concluded that last nights dress was perfect for it, that i could slide the straps off my shoulders and hold the cups on my tits and then easily let those drop and expose my tits. It was smooth, sexy, practiced, confident looking. It made me feel confident to know that I could do that, and slutty, sexy and desirable. I did have a jacket to go over the dress, a brown jacket to my waist; it has two buttons right at the waist but it was still clear that the dress underneath was very bare.

I actually commented to my friend that I hoped I didn't fall out of my dress and he said that if I did it would be the right place for that to happen, and I laughed as I really had not thought of it that way til then. In a way it would be perfect wouldn't it? No moment of bravery required, just falling out of the dress. Would that count Sir?

We went out a bit early, thinking we would have to wait for dinner in the bar, since we were unable to make reservations. I had loved this place when I went before, loved the environment and the noise. And it was the same last night, some of the people very dressed up, and gentlemen must wear a jacket, which they can provide of course if you have forgotten yours, and no denim. So we got there, and were seated right away despite expecting that there might be a 45 minute wait. Our waitress was Trina, a pretty dark haired girl, and the restaurant is surprisingly fun. You expect it to be 'stuffier' but it's not. It's fairly glamorous in a way, lots of waiters, lots of people, most of them dressed up, lots of mirrors, but its loud and excited, and has an air of excitement and passion. We ordered drinks and food in consultation with Trina, and settled in to drink our drinks. We had Sazeracs and dirty Martinis. We were having fun, I was feeling daring and sexy and it was such a nice restaurant. Our food came and was great, it's so different, so exotic and so rich that it's exciting . And variety is the spice of life isn't it Sir? Anyway, we even had dessert, we shared one, and dinner was by far the most expensive meal we have had, but I loved it.

And then we came out onto the street and turned to wander down the dirty sinful street. There were people up on the first balcony we came to, and they were throwing beads, someone caught my eye, and threw me some beads, and someone else threw some to my friend. I said to him that he hadn't earned them and he said I hadn't either, but we said thanks and put them on. I confess i was a bit disappointed, it could have been my moment, but there really wasn't that negotiation, just 2 seconds of banter and then the beads thrown.

We went to a bar, listened to the band, danced a bit. I was watching the rear of the club, thinking about how to show in there. We left and went to another club, and then a third, and then back to the first one, Fat Catz. we watched the band again, dancing, drinking. I had a mudslide as well as my martini at dinner, and was fairly drunk and having fun dancing. I was on edge though a bit because of my task, nervous, determined to accomplish it. I thought about what you had said about it in our discussions. I thought that if you were there you would have me just do it, no notice, no angst just do it. If you wanted it done in the bar you would just say to me, "go to the ladies room and show the men at the back your tits on the way," and I steeled myself to that. I could do this, this song, no the next, maybe the one after. Like persuading myself to jump in a pool of water. I could imagine your voice stern, deep, saying "do it now subgirl, go and show them what a slut you are."

I went to the back of the club, on the way to the ladies room, determined to do it, sliding the straps off my shoulders under the open jacket as I went towards the back of the darkened bar. I was holding the dress onto my tits as i went, and the men looked at my, they talked to me, one of them said "well hey baby" another said "looking good" or something like that. And I knew I had to let my hands go and expose my nipples to them and I flubbed it. I walked past, still holding the dress over my tits. I couldn't bring myself to do it, they thought I was a slut and I didn't accomplish my task. I went into the bathroom and peed, knowing I had to try again, but that it had to be on the way in not the way out of the bathroom where the whole bar could see. I was beating myself up a bit by that point, thinking what a baby I was, a coward. I went back and danced, and we left the bar soon after, and went to another, and then another.

It was fairly late and there were people on the street, everybody getting into the mood of it. I knew i had some possibilities on the street if there were people on the balconies, and in the bars of course. We walked towards Canal Street and there was a balcony with a bunch of people on it, maybe 8 or 10 of them. My friend says they were strippers, and I think it likely that some at least were. I noticed one girl in a purple bikini. There were men there with them too, one guy caught my eye, he had beads where most of them didn't. They were calling down to 4 guys on the street, trying to get them to come in I guess. And the guys were negotiating throwing the beads up, trying to get the girls to show their tits from the balcony I guess.

I noticed this guy at the end of the balcony, a guy with dark hair and a red shirt. He caught my eye and motioned that he wanted me to show my tits. I held up my hand for the beads, and motioned that i wanted the beads he had. He threw them to me and I caught them and put them on, and he again mimed opening my dress and I DID IT. I had turned back by then, and I just did it, pulling my dress wide and showing my tits very briefly. Not at all the way I had practiced it in the mirror before going out. Not the way I had thought I could do it. Not graceful or sexy, but I did it. And the guy gave me a thumbs up and that was all. There may have been words, probably there were, but I didn't remember Sir. And then I turned back to my friend who said "did you just flash him?" and I lied said "no" and he said "oh i thought you did," and I said "no I just pretended" and he said "well I wondered at you showing your tits to the strippers" and I said "were they strippers?" And we talked about whether I would or not, I really don't think he would mind, though I do think he would be surprised. He was surprised thinking I had done it.

And then we went went to one other bar and then came home. It was a great night and I have done my Dom's task, though I did flub it first, completely flub it. And I had it all planned and everything, but then when the moment came I did it. So thank you for the task Sir, which has added a focus to my trip hasn't it? I wonder if you thought it would add that much to it when you gave it... ?

Here's a kiss from your little slut.

And your questions: how were my nipples? I'm sure they were hard, but I didn't notice, I was looking at him when i did it really. He smiled. He was pleased. How was my pussy? Pretty wet from the whole evening of contemplating it.

Fun task. Fun night.

Submission

Last night I realized that the reason we have been fighting is that I haven't been submissive. Duh.

I have been waiting for things to be fair.

I have been angry with him for being a bastard to me.

I have been angry that I didn't get my own way.

And while I haven't actually been trying to punish him by making him feel shitty about being a bastard or not being fair or whatever, I haven't been trying to please him or make him happy.

I've been busy trying to protect myself from him, from whatever unfair, bastardy, humiliating thing he thinks up that day.

So I stopped. And told him that I wanted to offer my submission to him.

Gosh we work better when I just submit and try to make him happy.

Instantly I am happier.

It's not that everything is perfect when I submit. Things can still go wrong. There can still be things I don't like. But it's a million times better...

And he doesn't seem like as big a bastard. Or maybe I love him that way usually?

The End of the Punishment

My punishment ended last night with a sex session. He actually told me it would end yesterday afternoon. But he made that conditional on me asking him to masturbate and cum in front of him. I had to do that last night. Which is hard for me. Hard for me to ask. I hate asking. I also am ridiculous about it because I want it to be subtle and it's not; it can't be.

Asking to masturbate isn't seductive or sexy. It's blunt and crude.

But he did say yes. He allowed me to masturbate in front of him. I sat on the couch with my nightie pulled up to show my cunt and pulled down to show my nipples and masturbated, first with my fingers and then with my favourite vibe. I got turned on fast because of course he has had me touching myself without completion all week long with his punishment.

He liked it too, got turned on watching me, at least I think he did.

And then he had me run and fetch the big blue clamps that stick to the fridge. He attached them to my tits, pulling them up, while he lectured me on pleasing him, on being pleasing and doing what he want while I am being punished. Hurting me in the middle of the masturbation.

And then he let me cum. And just like that my punishment was over.

But he didn't stop. He went on hurting me. I was tired and really just wanted him to stop. He kept hitting me, slapping my tits and my cunt and lecturing and I was just tired.

And instead he made me do it again, immediately. He made me masturbate again. The second time took ages. It took ages for me to turn on again, and ages for me to cum. I finally did and he allowed me to turn the vibrator off and thank him for making me cum.

The moral I guess is that I do what he wants when he wants it, to his agenda not mine. At least I think it is. Honestly we have been fighting so long that I forget exactly what he is punishing me for.

I don't think he got exactly what he wanted from it though. I'm not sure. I guess what he gets is power, and the satisfaction of making me suck it up when he says to. And what I get, is hopefully a step towards making us better. But I think he was disappointed that I wasn't hungrier for it.

It felt disjointed and like I was seeing it all from a distance. Even at the end when it was done and he was ready to pull me into his lap and cuddle me for the first time in 3 weeks, I felt shell shocked and disoriented.

I usually have some tidy resolution for my posts, where they wrap up neatly but I don't really for this one.

I really just want us to be good. It's been a long couple of weeks since we were.

Crime and Punishment

After the punishment last week I wanted to crawl into his arms and have him love me and pet me and take care of me. I was shattered, weepy, emotionally bruised.

In his view though, after a punishment it's up to me to pick myself up and put myself back together again. That's sort of the last part of the punishment

And usually I get that, and usually he comes part way to help me. But this time that didn't happen. Partly because of time and circumstance, and partly cause it just didn't happen. I was hurt and angry and he was pleased as punch and kind of indifferent to my suffering I think. He was ready for it all to be over and for me to be his sweet little subbie again.

So the next fight came on Friday night. I felt he was humiliating and laughing at me. (He tells me Doms humiliate and laugh at their subs all the time btw. Fuck. Who knew this?)

So I will spare you the gory details of the fight. Irrelevant really except that there was one.

And now I am in punishment 2.

Which is different from punishment 1, at least so far. This one seems to be a long term orgasm denial or restriction at least(punishment 1 also contained this element but not as the main event). This one will probably also have a big blast of pain at the end as he has said something about a clit clamp at the end. I'm not going to even think about that til I have to.

Right now we are in the denial part of the punishment. I don't know for how long, which he does to make me crazy. Because the uncertainty makes it worse for me. He likes it because he knows it makes me crazy but also because it gives him more flexibility and more power. He can add or subtract days for good or bad behaviour. And he can hold that over my head.

So this morning he announced that since I was so pleasing so far (mostly yesterday I think) he was subtracting a day from the punishment. Go me. Of course I don't know if he is subtracting a day from a week or 2 weeks or a month or a year. Or some other arbitrary number.

In his opinion our fight was because I hate having him ignore my sexuality (I'm paraphrasing here, so maybe he will correct me on this one) and that as a result my punishment will also have a component that addresses that. I have to ask him at least twice a day if I may masturbate and cum. He said that this way I can get used to hearing "no".

I absolutely hated hated hated hearing this part. I hate asking, and I hate being rejected. It's huge for me. The first time was very hard, hard to get the request out. And of course I didn't even want to masturbate. Because I was miserable about having to ask and being rejected. But I took a deep breath and asked and he said I could masturbate for 5 minutes but not cum. Which I did. And I have dutifully asked the right number of times since then, and each time it's its own little mind fuck. Because I don't really want it most of the time. But have to ask. And he says "yes" a lot though he hasn't let me cum at all. So I have spent the last 3 days playing with myself at his order.

He asked me last night if I found this punishment hot at all, and my answer is that I hate being punished so much that I can't get past that part, but if it was just pleasure then I might like it. I don't think I would ever like having to ask him to masturbate and cum twice a day just for his "amusement and pleasure".

Weights

It took forever for him to find the right time and place to punish me. Which gave him time to plan it completely and me time to dread it. Actually more to be angry about it. About how unfair it was.

He wrote on my body "I'M A SLUT", across my tits and tummy. He put clover clamps on my nipples and weights on the clamps. Heavy weights, hanging together at the bottom of the chain connecting the clamps. He moved me this way and that, just to see them sway I think. To see them drag my tits down. To see me try to move carefully. To watch my pain.

Then he had me pick up the weights a couple of inches and drop them. It took me a couple of seconds I think to force myself to do it. When he said "drop them," I think I froze, unable to make my fingers let go and do his bidding. It's so hard to hurt yourself, when even the order, even knowing that I would have to do it couldn't quite carry me through it immediately.

Eventually I did it, gasping, struggling for breath, for air, for escape. I dropped the weights the few inches he had made me lift them and the fell, pulled hard, HARD against my tits and then bounced and then settled. I shrieked as they fell, defiant, angry, cornered.

He put a blindfold on me. And then he stood me up against the bedpost and made me hold my hands over my head.

That's his new thing. Making me hold my hands over my head. His newest torture. Sometimes for pleasure, pleasure and pain, sometimes for punishment. It leaves no marks. That and time are so fucking effective. And there's anticipation. He knows, and I know, and I know he knows and he knows I know, that eventually he will break me each time. All he has to do is wait. With him sitting comfortably, probably rubbing his cock, as he watches me tremble and sweat and cry and beg.

Because that's what I did.

I tried to tough it out. I always do when he punishes me. Bot of course I couldn't outlast him. Eventually he said to me (had I asked yet? I don't know) that if I wanted to take my hands down for a bit, he would permit it for a little while (time to be determined by him of course) if I put the weights in my mouth while I had my hands down. I said no thank you, not an idiot, knowing that eventually I would probably trade my arms for the weights in my mouth, but knowing also that the weights in my mouth would likely be dropped from that height, plummet a foot and a half to my belly and tear my nipples off when the time came that he was done with that. Dreading it. Dreading it.

We went on, I don't know how long. It felt like hours. Finally I asked him to stop. He said no. Of course he said no. I don't know why I asked but it seemed like I had to. I asked again. Maybe a third time, he said no. He offered me his deal again, put the weights in my mouth while my arms were down. I said no.

He made me repeat the words written on my body. "I'm a slut," and he made me tell him that I was HIS slut, and that what he wanted mattered and that what I wanted did not.

And then he made me put the weights in my mouth. Which I did under protest, putting them into my mouth, holding them gingerly with my teeth, they are long ovals, metallic, a little slippery when wet. I held them with my teeth, braced against them falling, screaming with fear and begging and angry and broken. All at once. So fucking clear who will win.

He had my hands at my sides, then behind me as I stood there, my arms down finally, this was the deal he had offered me, trading my arms for the weights in my mouth. Imposed on me as I would not accept it, had not accepted it. But here it was. I panicked, crying like little kids cry, noisy breathless, slobbery sobs. Helpless. Notice me. Notice my tears. My angry. My sorriness. Please don't make me.

Eventually he stopped me. And incredibly, he had me take the weights out of my mouth. And then take the clamps off my nipples. And then we were done.

He won. He always wins.

In Theory I Can Write What I Like

I write less when we fight, because it's safer.

In theory I can write what I like here, it's a safe place. In practice, I guess I'm not so sure that's the case.

He does read here of course. He knows what I write. He likes that I write most of the time.

And he agrees that I can write what I like. In theory he wants me to write as if he wasn't here. As if he didn't read any of this.

But I don't of course.

I edit what I write for the rest of you, and I edit what I write for him too.

For the rest of you I edit what I say so that you don't know if you live next door to me or if your kid goes to school with my kid.

For him I edit what I say because I don't want to get in trouble.

Under normal circumstances I probably wouldn't actually "get in trouble". (Remember when you were little and would get in trouble? How did I get back there?) If I said something he didn't like he would probably say something to me and move on. Because he really does want me to be free here. Partly because he thinks it's better for me. And partly because he wants to know what I am thinking.

But if we were fighting, and I went off on a rant about it, which of course is exactly what I want to do, I think that would be very unwise. I think he would hear it exactly as if I said it to him in person. Or said it to him in person in front of an audience.

I think he'd be furious. I think he'd retaliate. I think it would make things waaaay worse.

I do notice that very few subs rant about their Doms on their blogs. Maybe they are all perfect subs and don't fight with The Man.

Sigh... I'm not.

So anyway, that's where I've been: fighting with my Dom.

Monday

What a day.

Work sucked. I'm just back from vacation and completely swamped and stressed already.

Master is pissed at me and going to punish me. I would say more about that but it would just dig me in deeper.

My kid is sick. And I'm worried and exhausted already. More worried than anything else but a bit resentful too. And a bit guilty about that.

Time change or just coincidence?