I've been reading some nice bits of S&M erotica and very much enjoying my new acquisitions. Thank you again m'Lady!
Interspersed in Carrie's Story are idealized bits about slavery; some of them quite titillating.
The one thing that I think the author has captured well is the mental and emotional changes Carrie goes through as she internalizes her slavery.
I spent an hour lying upstairs today reading Carrie's Story then I got up and returned to reality.
I picked up Master's dirty socks and put away his clean under things. His underwear was scattered in the drawer, unfolded. I thought to myself "Why does he do this?" "Is it so hard to refold them?" Then it sort of hit me, he doesn't have to, that's what I'm here for.
It was a comforting thought, I smiled and my exasperation seemed to melt away. I felt very content and still do.
One of the lines of the poem/reminder Master wrote for me is "The slave takes pleasure in pleasing her Master"
In the last few days I have really internalized that line. A couple of nights ago I began preparing Master's coffeepot for the next morning's use. I take great pleasure in this. I know it makes his morning flow a little more smoothly.
I started preparations tonight so that I can begin work tomorrow on new canes for Master to use on me. They'll sting a lot and I know I'll be silently and maybe not so silently, begging him to have mercy on me when he does use them. But, I also know that he'll really enjoy caning my flesh, probably to the AC/DC cd I put together for him; lots of excellent rhythm to cane to.
He won't stop until he's finished which usually means I'm beyond finished and I'm a quivering mass of goo. I think that's my favorite part of our S&M sessions, the end. When I'm empty of any resistance and he is my whole world. I melt into him as he cuddles me and soothes my tortured flesh. Sometimes his cock is throbbing hard and despite my utter weakness I can hardly wait to satisfy his need, and mine.
It never fails, no matter how bad the pain play might hurt my pink bits are always wet and hungry for sex. I don't often realize that I'm aroused during the session but afterwards I'm more than aware and I'll whisper shyly to Master "I'm wet." He is never surprised.
It wasn't so very long ago that I could call an end to the pain play if I'd had enough. It wasn't so long ago that I could step out of my submissive role if I got tired of being ordered around. It wasn't so long ago that I would feel irritation when Master would ask for yet another drink when I'd just gotten him one only five minutes ago. At times like that I felt as if he were intruding on my time. Today, instead of feeling put upon and irritated I feel content, cheerful even.
What's changed? I really couldn't say. Somehow, like Carrie, I've managed to internalize my slavery and it has become more than a role I play. It has become my identity.
We all have various identities, wife, mother, daughter, sister. No matter which role I'm exercising I am always Alan's slave.
