That machine fucking her is called a shock spot. I so badly want one. Maybe two, so I can be fucked in two holes at once.
New Tumblr and my other Tumblrs
A small public service announcement. I started a new Tumblr, with tiny stories attached to pictures. It’s called slave cunt and I hope you will find pleasure in reading it. I’m trying to have one post per day, I queue them up, so they should show up around the same time every day.
Feel free to also visit my other tumblrs, with a general idea of female submission behind it:
- Own me, use me, general BDSM Pictures that fit my taste
- Drawn BDSM, anything that is drawn (including 3D pictures, anime, etc) and has bondage, D/s etc in them
- Caged Slaves, female slaves confined, not always strictly cages, but always the spirit of a cage in mind
- Used Slave, my personal tumblr, where I post about my D/s thoughts and experiences
WHAT ARE OBJECTS?
Object is a fairly recent addition to all the terms we share in the BDSM world of Dominance and submission. An object exists at the lowest end of that spectrum. An object is the living example of absolute dehumanization and objectification.
A slave, a boy, a submissive can all have different expectations of their experience. Some are absolutely property, others not. Some are allowed outside lives, physical contact with others, etc. They are essentially human whether caged, beaten, abused or loved.
An object is NOT… all that is stripped away. It is NOT anything, it simply exists for whatever desire and purpose suits the need of its handler. While an object may have been born human, may even have been a slave, a boy or a submissive at any point in its life. Once it becomes an object, all that is thrown away, it simply exists.
Can an object become a slave, a boy, or a submissive? Perhaps, it would largely depend on its own abilities and inner strength. Ultimately it is a brutal existence… over the long term it will lose everything about itself that it currently finds familiar… there is often no outside contact for it… this will take its toll on it in many ways.
This does not mean that an object is worthless, it may be, rather it just means that an object is NOT permitted identity. It is neither animal or human… some might call it subhuman… others a gimp… a thing… I prefer the term object.
As an object it can have no expectations, no agendas, it certainly does not have rights. Pleas for Rights, Fairness, Sympathy, Compassion or Dignity are the pointless whining of an object about to experience true reality. There are no specific rules regarding the care and treatment of an object. it simply exists.
An object, yes that is what I am too. A female one, but still.
not only are you cuffed and collared by metal, he locks you in a tight restrictive cage. still he lowers that cage into a hole and shuts the hatch. having also installed a webcam he can monitor you without even opening the hatch. enjoy your captivity
I think I just came a little.
Then the small things start to creep in. Those exposed cables and everything is terrible, if my hands would be free, they could remove them, or even reach them with my head and bite at them. She looks like she has been barely used. Hair all pretty, no marks. I hope whoever would own me and do this to me, would put me in marked, bruised, beaten, used and a total mess.
Let me first of all say thanks for all the messages. I can’t reply to them all. M is gone for good from my life, I know it, because I know him for most of what is my life. I’ve known him I mean. We might meet again, we don’t live too far apart and we work in the same geographical area, but then it will be just polite saying hi and how are you and then he would move on and take his leave.
M was not my Master. I wanted him to be, but he was my Mentor.
He will put his back to BDSM for certain for a while at least. He might return to it, but I will not be part of that when he does.
There is no finding himself in it, there is nobody I’ve ever met who is more sure about himself than he is. That makes it so much easier to accept this, even though it hurts, as I know it’s right when he has decided it.
Thank you again for those messages. It made it a little easier to bear this.
This might be very rambling, but I need an outlet. M just walked out of my life. He said he is sorry that he couldn’t keep his promise, but he had to get away from it all, which included me. I was too shocked to do anything. I keep seeing his smile. Since he left I have been crying. How can someone smile yet look like the saddest person on earth at the same time? There was no tears, nothing in his voice. He said he didn’t feel it anymore and would be of no use to me. Talking to me would remind him of what he can’t find. Of what he thought he found. So matter of fact, so removed and cold in a way. He wouldn’t say what happened. All he said was that she didn’t want him. There was this girl he told me about, there was some trouble with her in the last couple months. He seemed happy, glowing, really, and pained at times, but it seemed like it was what he was looking for. Something must have happened. I want to make him see I understand and feel for him. He told me not to. His Tumblr is gone, his email address doesn’t work anymore. He promised he wont kill himself. He said something died already, there is no need for more death. I’m so lost…
A small hint to those people sending me messages. If you have so little time or mental ability to use the word ‘you’ instead of ‘u’, then no matter what you write my arousal level is at subzero. Think on that.
Although this is an old picture and so simple, it pushes my buttons so hard I will go and frantically masturbate as soon as I finished writing this. Helpless, hands tied behind my back, naked and forced to stand on my toes. I can’t lower my feet or I strangle myself. To add to it another slave is there and we are commanded to kiss and put on a show. How long can we keep this up? Will whoever ordered us, keep this going until one of us strangles herself? Will they cut us down after we pass out?
Used like this, tied down and a machine fucking me. And then just the light turned off because they no linger want to use me, but they leave the machine running for a while longer to torment me. This would be bliss.
I haven’t written in a while
Not being a writer makes this harder. I don’t know what to write either. My life goes on with a lot of work. Occasionally interspersed with a few flashes of interesting conversation. But truly, I’m still as slave that owns itself for the time being, until someone else steps up to own me.
M has had some horrific troubles with girls. A friend of his also fared very badly and that hits him hard too. He doesn’t show it most of the time though. He tells it openly but doesn’t go on a whine and self pity cruise.
Accepting that M is not the right one for me has taken a long time but the more I know about myself the more I see the wisdom in his words. It’s funny when I remember him telling me that I would not fully understand why something is the way he said until much later, no matter what he would say and explain now. I see it now. I wonder what else comes up.
My writing back quota can be terrible, days to get back to them if work is demanding. But I get even less return and bigger gaps than that.
Still nothing really to write about.