Fuck on the Wool

The bare living room floor was covered with a twenty foot by thirty foot Royal Sarook carpet yesterday. It deep red lustrous wool  is an inch thick and densely knotted. My grandparents bought it in 1939 when they took a trip to the middle east to celebrate their honeymoon. It always looked stately laying over the wavy maple floors in the big parlor. I spent many hours lying on it while reading or studying.  I often untwisted the bouillon fringe on the sofa skirt and watch it spin back to it's original shape. No one used that room except me  or when my grandparents were entertaining.

It took six men to carry the carpet into the house from the truck. We unrolled a thick pad on the floor then unfolded the carpet and carefully positioning it before arranging the furniture on top of it. It was like having a part of my childhood memories with me again.

The guys all went into town for dinner while I finished bedding the animals for the night. I grabbed a handful of turkey and wrapped it around strips of Swiss cheese and threw a handful of spring greens into a bowl for my dinner then went to shower of the dust and animal hair. I laid on the carpet surrounded by six dogs, intending to turn the television on but fell asleep.

Master tied my hands behind my back while I was sleeping and brought me up to my knees and held me by my hips. While I  was still half asleep he slipped his cock inside of me and began to slowly fuck me. He slid in and out deliberately and carefully for a long time before he started to shudder and moan. He slowed his rhythm as his moans grew steadily louder. He dropped one hand from my hip and used it to grab my collar and slowly rammed his cock against my inner sphincter until he came deep into my gut. He hold me by my collar while gaining his breath, shutting off my breath until he slowly pulled out of me. He stuffed his shirt under my pelvis to avoid messing the carpet then collapsed on top of me, pushing me to the floor under him.

Like a newly wed, he picked me up and carried me up to our room and laid me on our bed.

The boy is Down Today

The boy is down today. He is just plain tired. He's spending his day in bed sleeping. He wants me to be with him so I go in from time-to-time to hold him. His Tommy lays on the foot of the bed looking up at him and then as I leave, he crawls up and leans against the object of his adoration.

I'd like to tie him up and gag him for the evening and I think I might, just because I can and because I know he would enjoy it. His tastes have changed so much recently. He loved crazy heavy bondage and now he gets off on my rope work.

Except for brief moments, he has been locked in his chastity belt for 24 four days. He came "by accident" while I was playing with his nipples last night. I could see that he was on the edge, for the third or fourth time. His eyes were full of tears from fighting against the uncontrollable need to cum. He begged me to stop but I told him to hold it if he knew what was good for him. Finally, his back arched and he screamed "I can't hold it!". He came while screaming. It looked like his entire body was cramping in a violent spasm. He pumped like I've never seen him cum before. He was screaming in agony. Even after the lost drop of cum dripped from the tip of his cock, he screamed. His gut was still in the midst of spasm. He cried out "I think something is wrong, the pain is in the wrong place and it's getting more intense". His toes curled and I saw him trying to pull cramps from his legs by pointing and stretching his toes toward his head. He gradually relaxed and the cramping stopped.

We talked to our Urologist who said it was inflammation of the prostate caused by sexual stimulation and then no ejaculating. He told me to leave the chastity belt off for a while. If it happens again, come to see him. He also suggested that if we're having sex to let the boy ejaculate before locking the belt back on the boy.

So there you have it.

It Feels Like a New Chapter

Chapter 2

This feels like a new chapter in our lives. Odd, it seems like such a short time since it began and still, it feels like it always was. I'm finding new music and new places that inspire me. I' enjoying the kitchen and the vast open spaces outside of it as I look out over the valley.

Master is every where that I am. We're talking and silent together with no place in particular to go. Every touch is sex. We spent a long morning of wakefulness in bed together this morning, leaving pools of spunk to dry in the sheets and rope trailing from the side of the bed.

Anniversary

It is the anniversary of the day I took Trace as my slave. Two years have flown by at what seems at the speed of light. There have been more changes in our lives than I can keep track of. I began to celebrate my procession of my slave a midnight when we shared a glass of champagne. We drank from a single flute.

I removed the slaves chastity belt and replaced it with "The Punisher" from Mr. S. It is a silicone device with tiny silicone points in the head. I trussed him up in a frog tie with a single length of cord then gagged him with a monkey fist made from rope. His legs were easily spread so that I had access to his ass and already punished genitals. I well and properly fucked him then snapped a pair of Japanese Clovers Clamps on his tits. His lower legs were folded under his upper legs, causing a great deal of discomfort.

I flipped him over several hours later and fucked him again before I fell asleep at his side. He woke me with his moans. He was sound asleep and reacting to the pain that I was causing him. I might have punished him for waking me if it were not for the fact that he was sleeping. I also needed to fuck him again. I unloaded inside him then plugged him, trapping my seed inside of him. He has since been cleaned up and crammed and locked in a small cage awaiting noon when I will refresh the brand on his ass then turn him over to a tattoo artist who is tattooing him.

My slave has no idea of what I am planning for him.

Thoughts About Food and a Damn Good Bondage Session

My gut has been a little grumbling for the past few days. I think it might be caused by switching from a very simple diet back to a comparatively rich diet.

Most of our hosts served meal made of rice or some other grain with a few vegetables. I didn't eat meat in Bhutan except for one night in the hotel after my friend left me. He said that eating an animal was eating god. We talked about eating plants as eating a gift from god. Because in either case, if you believe that god exists in everything then there is no escape from eating god. The difference is that animals are sentient  beings.

Anyway, my meals were gluten free with very little fat and a few vegetables seasoned very carefully with salt and local herbs that were sometimes also used to make hot infusions. My meals on the trip home were primarily meat, vegetables and various carbs. Once I got to San Francisco, I had dry aged Chateau Briand, soup, salad, fingerling potatoes and crusty bread slices that we dipped in olive oil. Of course, we did not pass up on desert.

__________________________

I'm not even sure what day of the week it is. My head is still someplace in the clouds high above the valley floors of Bhutan. It was a good day to be strenuously bound and then used by Master.

He tied my wrists crossed behind my back then pulled the rope up, wrapping it around my neck several time then cinching it, leaving the tails dangling in front me. He wrapped the rope around my genitals, creating a cock ring effect. He continued by wrapped the rope around my scrotum, stretching it tightly and stretching my balls to the limits. From there, I kneeled with my balls between ankles. He tied and cinched the ends of the ropes so that find any sort of comfort.

The experience first lead to a dull ache in my guts that gradually escalated. I began to feel nausea build and an intense burning sensation in my balls. Everything intensified over time. I began to moan loudly which earned me a heaping stuffing of a leather gag jammed deep into my throat.

It's in the Eyes

The expression of anticipation in the boys eyes when I begin a Bondage and Pain experience with him often tells me where to take him. Sometimes there is fear, sometimes his eyes are wide open and shifting about as I work on him and sometime, but rarely, he is complacent and appears emotionless.

I tied the boy with the new techniques a few days after I returned from Germany. His eyes were wide open with anticipation of a new experience. I had him sit on a work table and began the session by wrapping his right wrist as an anchor that I pulled behind his back to his neck. I wrapped the rope around his neck, building a snug coil. I hoped that I would see a level of fear but the boy sat quietly, anticipating the next step in my dance. I continued weaving the rope around his torso. The rope tightened itself as I continued, reducing his ability to expand his chest to breath.

He was unable to move except to wiggle his toes and fingers.

I tied a monkey paw from rope to gage him then sat back in a chair to admire my work and watch his feeble attempt to struggle.

I later climbed on to the table and removed his gag so that I could face fuck the boy.

His eyes widened with wet panic as he choked on my cock. His nose started running as he swallowed harder and harder, working to please me.

Th PlaySpace at the Ranch and Games We Play

We have a large post and beam building adjacent to the animal barn. It is our main play space with the larger equipment. The ceilings are high enough so that I can swing a 12 foot whip.  The sitting room off our bedroom was converted to a private play space. Boy's uncle built another "party" room off the wine cellar with spaces for tables and chairs. We removed the furniture and added locking steel doors to two spaces and insulated the third space for sound and installed a heavy wooden door. The space in deafening in it's quiet. The insulated room is where boy rides out a migraine. We also play outside among oak trees when weather permits.

Our toy collection grows but I think we have enough for now. At least we have enough big toys.

My boy is all tied up this morning in coils of black rope. I added a silicone plug under his Carrara for his further discomfort..


The following is brazenly stolen from my favorite site  metalbondnyc.com
Visit his site often!

Idea for a bondage game

April 21, 2015 Metal 4 Comments

 

Part One: Prisoner rolls one die, with the result of the roll to be as follows:

• Prisoner rolls a 1, his hands are cuffed behind back with a chain running from metal collar to cuffs, and he is locked in a cage or isolation cell.
• Prisoner rolls a 2, his neck is locked to ring in floor with 3 feet of slack.
• Prisoner rolls a 3, his neck is locked to ring in floor with 3 feet of slack and hands are cuffed behind back.
• Prisoner rolls a 4, his neck is bolted to ring in the floor with no slack.
• Prisoner rolls a 5, his neck is bolted to ring in the floor with no slack and his hands are cuffed behind.
• Prisoner rolls a 6, his neck is bolted to ring in the floor and his wrists/ankles are spread eagle, with prisoner on his back.

Part Two, after Prisoner’s bondage is determined with the first roll, prisoner is restrained and then the Captor rolls TWO dice, with the results as follows:

• Total number on both dice equals the number of hours the prisoner stays in the bondage.
• If prisoner rolls a double (i.e. two 2’s or two 5’s) the total number of hours is doubled. For example, if prisoner rolls two 4’s, he spends 16 hours in the bondage (4 plus 4 is 8 hours, which is doubled to 16).
• Prisoner will therefore be subjected to a minimum of three hours (if he rolls a 1 and a 2) to a maximum of 24 hours (if he rolls two 6’s) in bondage.

Part Three, interpretation of rules and consequences

• If prisoner complains or asks for early release, he forfeits all rights to release from the bondage and captors may extend imprisonment time and/or increase the severity of the bondage, at their discretion.
• There is only one way for the prisoner to get out early, and that is for the prisoner to convince the captor or another person to change positions with him and become prisoner.
• If that happens the new captor rolls two dice, which determine the sentence for the new prisoner, which is an additional 3 to 24 hours.

Another game that we play

 

 

His Spin of the wheel earned him 32 days of lock-up. That added to over a week locked already is a good start toward total frustration.

 

A Feeling of Dread

My slave will be leaving for home without me tomorrow.

He has expressed absolutely no unhappiness during this stay at the Chateau. In fact he is enjoying himself and is having fun. He hasn't really mentioned going home but I can feel that he is feeling dread about something. I ask him what is going on. I sound like some old co-dependent fag because I keep asking him what is bothering him. He smiles gently and tried to reassure me and himself that there is nothing. So, I finally asked him, "You're thinking about being home, aren't you". He admitted that he was and that he has a feeling of dread that he doesn't want to give in to. "Besides" he said, "You want me with you and I don't want to be without you.  You want to practice rope bondage more and I want you to learn more about it". He added that he didn't know how he would cope with being in Bhutan next month and that he is thinking of cancelling the trip. I told him that that he would leave for home tomorrow and that I will stay. That way he can be working with the animals and working in the studio more before he leaves for his three week walk with his monk friend. He shook his head in disapproval. I asked him which of us called the shots in this relationship. He responded, "yes sir".

"Besides" I told him, "I am sure they can find me someone to practice on."

We continued our bondage session. I learned the casting on of rope in the martial art style and securely binding the slave in a few very quick movements. The technique can range from merely secure to intensely painful depending how tightly the limbs are pulled together behind the back. The slave winced in pain at one of my tries and whispered "yes". His cock grew into an iron rod. He used breath control to cope with the pain and whispered "this feels really good, Master".

The Weekend

I wish the holiday weekend would have been spent at home with family although the people of the Chateau and the members are and extention of  that family. We're not Christians and we don't celebrate any holidays that have usurped pagen European seasonal celebrations. For us, we mark holidays as good reason to celebrate family.

All the slaves stood behind the Master's chairs during a formal dinner. They wore nothing except their collars. The slaves were bright and attentive and served perfectly. Some were more adept than others, having more experience at formality. I personally think formality is a sort of falseness.

My boy is experiencing a migraine. He is in my bed sleeping instead of in the dungeon. I am beginning to unserstand that he gets migraines when over tired. He hates to give up on his own expectations so he ends up crashing.

I am slowly learning to perfect rope work by having started at the very basic wrist snare. I have to work at giving up what I think I know so that I can learn new techniques.

You can teach an old dog knew tricks but it is often times very difficult.

I want to write more but I am fighting sleep.

Studio Bondage TIme.

I invaded the slave's studio this morning. My intention was to show him that no space is off limits to my demands. I wanted his ass and I wanted to tie the fucker up and leave him alone to simmer after I fucked him. I think that he wants it this way.

I packed a sack of toys from the dungeon to bring with me.

I was sitting at his drawing table starring into space. He hadn't noticed that I walked in until I stomped my boots behind his chair. He turned, looking embarrassed, slid off of his chair and kneelt in front of me. I picked him up from the floor and he threw his arms over my shoulder and kissed me. I in turn, wrapped my hands around his neck and forcibly kissed him. I started to ease off but he put his hands over mine and put pressure on them, wanting me to constrict his breath and kiss him harder. I adjusted my hands to hold him more closely then held his neck until his eyes began to roll back in his head then released him, holding him the whole while so he would not fall.

He asked, "did you come to get me to put me on the table again"?
"No slave, not that but sit down in that chair over there". All the chairs in the studio are metal with arms except the stool at his bench which easily adjust in height and has a base that allows him to roll forward over his drawing table or toward a painting on his smaller easel.

I tied him in the metal chair with rope and then snapped a pair of clamps on his nipples. I gagged him with a simple ball gag. He was comfortable but would not easily escape. I slipped a blindfold over his eyes so that he would lose his sense of time and the set his IPod, the source of music in his sound system, to random play indefinitely. I mouthed his cock for a few moments then kissed him on his forehead and told him that I would see him later.

The studio is monitored with cameras and sound just like the rest of the property.

He has been bound for over twelve hours. I'm planning to collect him in another 3 to 4 hours.

 From Tumblr

                         

 

 

 

 

Loook at Him

Look at at him sitting there bound in a hundred feet of rope. He is sitting as still as death with his eyes half open. The only sign of life is his chest as it expands when he breathes. A slight smile of contentment turns the corners of his mouth toward the sun that pours into the living room window. 

Tommy sits in front of him looking into his face. He wide eyes open and close sleepily. Sancho sits at his back. Is he warning the boy's back or acting as a back rest?

The Real Implications of Slavery – Part Three.

The Real Implications of Slavery – Part Three.

Communication

There is nothing more important than excellent communication in every relation. It is even more important in a consensual Master/slave relationship. Listening and being observant of body language are constantly evolving skills that must be honed and sharpened has the relationship intensifies and deepens.

Earlier in our relationship I gagged the slave and told him that I love him but I could love him better when he is gagged.  I gagged him and kept him that way for most of several weeks. I learned that once I silenced his constant chatter that he thought more clearly about what he really needed to communicate. Slave learned to listen better. He could often tell what I was thinking by observing my body language. It was amazing how not talking deepened our relationship. In the long run, we are learning how to use intuition as a form of communication.

When I ask him a question, I want a clear and concise answer. Part of his response can often come with respect for the authority that he has given me over his life by saying something like “I will do what you decide is best”. Don’t get me wrong, he will let me know if I am wrong but never in anger.

We talk things out and never argue. Arguments are almost destructive. There should never be reason for one person to fear the other. It is important to recognize that there is inequality. It is important for the dominate person in a relationship treat the subordinate with respect that he demands for himself.

 

 

 

Odd Sunday.

I relented. Slave was bound near the edge of the pool in a very tight frog tie while the rest of us lingered over breakfast and coffee. We had the heat lamps on to fend of the chill and the slave was lying on a heated foam mat. The slave was tightly gagged and plugged. He was bound so tightly that he couldn’t struggle.

A buzz from the gate sounded. It was the boy’s hometown trust attorney making a surprise visit. I couldn’t turn him away and trying to explain the boy’s situation would be awkward so I decided it was best to be totally transparent.

I walked his attorney through the house, grabbing a coffee mug from the kitchen. We walked out on the patio and the attorney immediately walked over to slave and unbuckled his gag.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh! Mr. Jensen! Hello! Yes Mr. Jensen, the rope is kind of tight but I’m good”. Boy laughed nervously.
Mr. Jensen said “I always had a feeling you were a little different”.

I started to untie the boy but the boy loudly said, “Mr. Jensen, you met Ian on you last visit. Ian is my Husband now. If you have anything for me to sign, he can do it.

“No, there are no papers to sign, I just came to visit and make sure you’re okay. You look pretty damn happy.” He stuffed the gag back into slaves mouth and buckled it tightly.

I introduced all the guys to Mr. Jensen while brewing a cup of coffee for him. He grew comfortable with the family and spent the rest of the morning out on the patio. Slave remained bound and happy. I rolled the boy onto his side and snapped a pair of clamps on his tits then rolled him back onto his chest figuring it was getting near time to release him, I thought he would enjoy some pain.

Swinging in the breeze

I saw this scene in a murder intrigue movie. We've played at the scene once or twice. Each time that we get involved in replaying it, it gets more exciting, although it is almost exactly the same.

We played in the barn. There is a large pulley attached high up from a horizontal beam. A thick soft rope hangs from the pulley that is tied off at vertical beam.  The cool thing about this barn is that my Great Uncle purchased an old post and beam barn from the east and had it rebuilt on the land. I thought of using it for a studio when I first moved in..  We use this barn for play now and for a bunk house, although we haven't had anyone stay in it yet.

Master tied my wrists together in a thick coil of rope and did the same to my ankles and knees. He wrapped a long narrow strip of linen cloth around my head to blindfold me. He threaded the rope from the pulley through the wrist bindings the pulled me up so that I was forced to stand tall, barely reaching the floor with my bare feet. I was wearing a pair of white jockey briefs. It was how the victim in the movie was dressed. I already had a wet spot from precum that Master found entertaining. He slapped me across the gut as if to punish me.

I tell the last detail of the bondage with the caveat that it is dangerous and urge that you never leave a slave unattended when doing it. I could easily lead to a joking death.

Master used a large linen bandana to gag me. He pushed a corner of the bandana deep into my mouth, almost in the throat itself. He continued stuffing and packing it into my mouth until all but a small corner protruded between my lips. The dry bandana absorbs all the moisture in the mouth and feels as if it is swelling in size. It feels impossible to yell or cry out. It is a frightening feeling. If it were not Master administering this gagging, I might panic.

Master raised me into the air so that I swung freely in the air. It became stressful fairly quickly. Breathing was a chore after a while because of the tension in my chest.

In the movie, the murderer left the victim hanging while he went off to kill another person. He was unrealistically unstressed by the situation. Master never left me. He swung me around in circles and stroked my body with his hands. He lowered me when he thought I had near enough and pulled my briefs down to my knees. They were soaked with precum. My cock was painfully rigid. Master sucked my cock into his mouth and throat. It is a rare pleasure. He worked my cock until I came into his mouth. He swallowed and continued licking focusing on my urethral opening, driving me out of my mind.

Master lowered me to the ground and gently pulled the gag out of my mouth then lowered me to my knees. I gratefully worked his cock with my mouth until he was nearly ready to cum.  He grabbed me by my ears and forcefully face fucked me until he blasted his load into my throat. I choked and some how managed to get a load of his cum into my nose. His cum dripped from my nose along with snot from my irritated throat and sinuses.

He untied me and we hugged then I ran into the house, as Master suggested, and rinsed my sinuses with saline until I cleared the mess out. We tumbled into bed for a while and laid there talking and...

Just

It is a peaceful day on the hill. Everyone and everything is quiet.

We woke to a tangle in bed. I wore a t-shirt to bed to keep the tiny wounds and the linen clean. It felt like an encumbrance because of the friction against the linen. In case you care, our bedding is entirely linen. It's what I grew up with and it still feels the most comfortable. Our linen is grey and un-pressed,  not at all like the sheets that our housekeeper ironed everyday when I was a child.

I went out riding by myself this afternoon. My big black was nippy. He tried to get me several time. Each time that I scolded him, he seemed to be grinning. We got it all straightened out with a good face to face conversation. I think he was testy because I haven't been personally attending him enough.

The carrara got locked back in place this morning. I have to admit that it felt weird to be without it.

Bondage at 40,000 Feet

You might have heard of the Mile High Club. Master has that beat. How about bondage, ass beating, skull fuck and fucking at 40,000 feet.

The only passengers were Master Christopher and me. To Pilots in the cockpit and a flaming ginger boy attending to our needs. None of them seemed to mind. In fact, the men in the cockpit took turns watching. The ginger boy stood well away from the activity. I could here him gasp even with Master's cock filling my head and throat.

We're nearly home. We're coming to the eastern slope of the Rocky's. I bet the dogs can feel us coming near. Animals are funny that way.

It Is The Little Things

A child was bouncing a red rubber ball down the hotel hallway as I stepped out of our room to find the butler. That red rubber ball turned me on.

Master belt was laying across the bed while he was in the shower. How I longed to have it caress my butt and back.

The tasseled cord that hangs from a piece of art on the wall.

The sight of water pouring over Master's shoulder, down his chest and his abs, partially running from the end of his swollen cock.

_________________________________________________________

I'm really sorry guys, I'm lousy with the camera. I get so involved in the moment that I forget to take pictures.  I have a few that I promise to post when I get home.

Fancy Rope Work

There is a great interest in Japanese style rope work, known as Shibari or Kinbaku. Shibari is Japanese for “bind”. Kinbaku means “bind tightly”. They are considered an art and a discipline. It goes beyond the knowledge of ropes to “kokoro”, knowledge of mind, body and spirit

Kinbaku is the one thing, other than actual punishment, that I fear most because of where in my head the process takes me and the length and intensity that is often associated with the practice.

The process; Master and I went for a walk through the fields and circled the Oak Trees at the top of the mountain. We sat on a fallen tree under the leafless branches of the wintering trees and simply enjoyed being with each other.

Tension built as we walked toward the house. My pre-bondage break was near an end.

I stripped to nothing. Master began building my bindings by wrapping soft hemp rope around my abdomen, coiling it around until my entire mid-section was covered. He kept the coil in place by weaving the rope back through the coil which tightened with each tug until my breathing was constricted. He continued twisting the rope, running it slowly and sensually over my skin. Eventually, I was suspended, ass in the air and my legs spread to expose my anus. My arms were spread apart, each held asymmetrically away from my body. Master gagged me a rope monkey fist and then snapped a pair of Japanese sail maker clamps onto my nipples and another pair on my perinea and my frenum.  Pain from the second pair of clamps built rapidly while the nipple clamps were sensuous. The coils of rope tightened as I struggled.

Master eventually removed the clamps and pushed me sideways, sending me swinging from side to side. I began to feel emotional as if I was near tears. I can’t explain the intensity of the helplessness, humiliation and a sort of cathartic remorse over nothing that I could recognize.  Master blindfolded me with a white and black bandana that was like a veil instead of blindness.

I was there, hanging without knowing how much time had passed. I could sense Master by the smoke from his cigar. He hasn’t smoked since early December before our holiday trip. It was a comforting smell it again.

Master lit several red candles. He poured pools of wax over my body until I began to scream. He had poured wax over my anus and genitals. He continued the torture until a thick layer of wax built up enough to forms a protective layer of everything that had been sensitive He lowered me to the floor and left me alone. I couldn’t understand why this session was so emotionally intense for me but it sapped me of all of my energy. I gave up trying to intellectualize and let myself wander through fleeting thoughts and memories until I fell sound asleep. I woke to find my head and shoulders propped among Master’s legs. He was stroking my head and bound shoulders. His erect cock pressed against my chest.

Master slowly and with the same sensuality untied me, letting the rope drop and slide on my body. He took as much or more time untying me as he did tying me. He tickled me and played with my wax encrusted tit and genitals. He untied me except for my arms and gag then lifted my upper body up and laid it over a table. He peeled the wax from rectum and filled it with lubricant. He fucked me. It was the third time of the day. Once in bed, twice, over the fallen tree on the mountain top and then a third time while still bound.

Yes, he has an insane sexual appetite. I am lucky to be the only recipient of his hunger.

Master peeled the wax from my genitals as he brought me to the edge. He edged me several times, leaving me to burn inside from near orgasm. It caused agony that I relished. He removed my gag and spread my mouth open with his hands and spit into my throat. At the moment of passion I didn’t mind it. He finally jacked me off, giving me permission to cum. He finished untying me and then we sat on the floor, kissing and hugging each other.

 

Spit

There are a few things that I object to. The worst is scat, the second is ingesting blood and having something spit into my mouth. I am not so concerned about Master spitting into me because we are so close anyway. He hates scat and blood sharing for the obvious reasons. They are a source, an easy source, of contracting illness of all sorts, not just sexually transmitted diseases.

Art Days

I worked in my studio yesterday and today. I'm just a naked steel collared slave wielding paint at my canvas. Master does not make demands of me when I am working except to stop long enough to sit with the family for meals.

I don't often spend two days in a row painting. I'm letting the play lists in my IPod play, which changes my cadence from time to time. Master comes in to talk and watch me work. Sancho and Panza lie on the edge of the carpet most of the time that I work. Sancho has some bright green pain on his tail.

I started another project today and I'm thinking of building a gallery/studio where our land touches the road at the bottom of our mountain too. I want to run that past Master, banker and town planner over the next week so I've been thinking of ways that it could make a positive impact on the town's people.

I writing this early today so I can wind down and serve Master with a proper mind set.

 

This is not my work. I found it on tumbr and like it.
It reminds me of a movie that we watched on Hulu last week
called "The Man from Earth". It's essentially a commentary on
human development and how we USE religion.
I recommend that you watch it.

 

http://www.hulu.com/search?q=The+Man+From+Earth

 

 

 

From Tumblr

 

Great Bondage!

Simple, Effective and Painful.
I like to think the guy wears a collar and
has clamps on his man tits.

 

 

Tumblr picture

 

 

I've never been staked out on the ground.
I get my brand renewed in June. I'd love to be
staked outside before and after instead of just laying on a table.

 

 

Response to Slave Jack

We live on a large piece of land. It is generally dark an quiet at night. It makes sense to have minimal security as a deterrent and for protection.  We respond via cell phone to arrivals at the gate during daylight hours. We want to see who is at the gate before we open it at night. The floods outside the house and outbuildings help us see what is going on out there, if anything. We originally decided to install the security equipment when one of my half-brothers was threatening me. It was legitimate since he was a half baked self declared army of god who was prone to acting out his anger. That was why we hired Christian. (my brother died from a heart attack during one of his invectives)

The dogs and geese are natural alarms and they're more fun than electronics so the security equipment is for night or when humans aren't home.


So,
I've been answering email for three hours, which is always a pleasure.

You can contact me at
Trace734@gmail.com   if you have something to ask me in private.

All tied up!

My morning duties pleasurable complete. Master tied by legs in a frog tie with my arms bound high up my back. He laid my waist over a pillow and spent himself up my ass. He left me bound while he showered a dressed then untied me. He tied me spread eagle on my back, covered me with a blanket. He left me there while he went out.

The sun had set before he returned. He untied me and sent me to shower. He joined me and had his way with my ass again.

"I was so fucking hot all day just thinking about you laying helpless up here in the room".

We dressed and went out to have a salad for dinner. We had baby greens with Roquefort, sliced radishes with fruit crisps.  It was so simple and somehow orgasmic in it's flavor combinations. It was my only meal of the day. We sipped pear brandy for dessert.

Master told me that he knows a dominatrix that would like to meet me. I sighed and rolled my eyes, feeling despair. Ick! Is all that I would like to say. We're going to see her tomorrow. I feel like running.