Birthday Earthquake

We had an Earthquake this morning that shook Napa Valley. The epicenter was apparently 70 miles away. We weren't sure what hit us because we often feel tremors. Our house is on top of a mountain, which is more stable ground than the surrounding valleys. A few things slipped off shelves and tables and we sustained a crack in one of the big living room windows but that is all. I didn't feel anything but a slight vibration. By the time the guys came down to get me, it was over.

I wonder sometimes if I get the worst migraines when the ground moves. Daniel said the animals were nervous and the geese were unusually noisy. I continued my nap up the mountain near the Oaks with the dogs surrounding me.

During a party at the clubhouse in London, one of the slave had a wide collar locked on the he told me was lined with hundreds of tiny pin pricks. I would have had full blown wood if I hadn't been locked. I excitedly told Master about. He inspected it as well as he could then asked the slave's Master if he could get a good look at it. Regie is the slave's owner.

Later that night, I confessed that I having a jock from Mr. S that was retrofitted with a locking belt that is lined with hundreds of pin pricks, as well as a matching sleeveless T-shirt and bondage  booties that I should have thrown away because I hate them. I had worn these things around my apartment but never had the nerve to wear them out or tell visiting tops that I have them in my toy collection.

It was Master who first insisted that I model the items for him. He's locked them on a few times but then we lost interest until Regie sent us the collar. But still, they never caught on.

All of this comes no more than a few weeks after I read the story on MetalBondNyc called Bondage  Fantasy World about a guy who forced in bondage that was lined with "nails". The story rocked my world. I thought how cool it would be to experience the imprisonment in the story while at the same time feeling horrified by it. It is amazing how serendipitously or thoughts and reality collide and mesh with each other. Buddha said something like "We are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts, we make the world." I truly believe his thoughts but sometimes forget and with my thoughts screw up my world.

My migraine had passed except for the haze that I am in. It was cake and gift time. The most fun of all the gifts was the over the knee paddling that each person gave me. I got passed from one person to the next until we had counted my age. I finally got to open the box that Regie shipped from his shop in London. I had to work the package open without being allowed to use tools to cut the tape. Finally!
I got it open. I pulled a large heavy garment out of the box that had fifteen locked straps on the outside of it. It must weigh fifty pounds. It was the fucking daddy of all sleep sacks, I thanked everyone profusely. Regie gave me a key to the locks and told me to open them. I was too excited to unlock everything myself so Regie dropped to his knees and unlocked everything. He partially opened the bag and took my hand and made me stroke the interior. Ouch and Double Ouch! The entire interior is lined with tiny sharp points. "I don't fucking know about this one guys!"

Regie said, "you're going to know soon enough".

Again, I can't say I understand how coincidence play out in this world.

Master ordered me to get ready to try it out. He followed me into the bedroom to make sure I took a piss. Master had laid out while I was in the bathroom, stalling, afraid of what I was going to experience and then decided his thinking was all wrong. Strip slave. He watched me as I nervously removed my clothing. Using his finger under my collar, he led me into the great room. Regie had the bag entirely opened and waiting for me.

Master being Master and Regie being a sadistic tailor and leather making came up with giving me a sleep sack and hood. The entire sleep sack is lined with thousands of pin pricks and the gag that snaps in the hood also as almost undetectable pinpricks.

Regie applied the hood. It had two holes for breathing, no mouth or eye opening. He carefully slipped the gag in my mouth. The points were irritating but not sharp enough to do real damage. He laced it very tightly then buckled and closed the straps. The wasn't a strap for the neck. I sat in the lower body of the sack and carefully lifted my legs until my feel were in the toes of the sack. The process continued at a snail's pace until all my body parts were in the correct places. Master and Regie zipped the bag and then laced, pulling the laces snugly. They worked together to fasten the straps. I was in a sort of endorphin induced psychosis or something because I actually enjoyed all the sensations the beg was producing. When they locked the first padlock I tried to communicate "tighter" with the tiny prickers causing pain in my mouth. Regie asked "what did you say boy"? I tried to say "tighter. It worked because the two Masters tightened each strap.

I can't explain what I felt. Everything inched of my body was tormented with tiny points of pain that caused me to feel like I was flying high on some sort of Narcotic. I was in the sack for a full hour from the time the last lock with snapped close. The worst pain as they went through the process of taking me out of the sack. I think I was crying but I can't say for sure. The four Masters peeled me out of the bag. I was covered with what looked like a rash with a few tiny drops of blood here and there.
They opened the bag completely and left it in the middle of the floor for me to clean tomorrow. I went to shower again, washing thoroughly with a natural antibacterial called H2Ocean that instantly breaks down blood and washes it down the drain. It was made for new tattoos and piercings but I keep a bottle for generally first aide.

I returned to the bedroom and grabbed a box filled with gifts for my family. Artisan made pear brandy from a tiny producer in France. It has a tiny pear in the bottle with tiny flecks of pure gold. It was wrapped with a yellow ribbon on the neck of the bottle held in place with a gold wax seal. I tasted it on our last trip and shipped two cases home. It is divinely smooth and light like drinking fresh pressed pear juice with a kick. I popped a bottle open and let everyone taste what I had given them. I also gave Master Ian a box wrapped in red paper that I drew balloons on. I asked him not to open it until we are alone together.