Bound with Rope & Love

a slave's view on her life with Master

Sunday, February 28, 2010


Last week was spent having sex. Except for Master's going to work, almost all we did was have sex, sleep and eat. So much that we lost track of how many times.

Looking at the clock, which read 1:30 p.m., i asked, "Master, is this the fourth or fifth time today?"

"Fourth, slave girl. No, wait, I forgot about the 3:00 a.m."

For us, regular sex is, well, regular. Once or twice or three times a day is not uncommon. But last week, Master wore His slave girl out.
 Cleaning Master - Finishing the way we started

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Monday, February 15, 2010


I have been having difficulties with this blog. Grrr....

Friday, February 12, 2010


"You are mine to care for and to protect. I will take you and keep you safe and use you in any way I see fit or fit in. I will bind you to me with love and rope . . . ."
~ Master's promise that He keeps every day.

Thursday, February 11, 2010


If it weren't so late,
I'd write a poem
About how You
Stroke my hair,
Kiss my neck,
Smile back at me
Or maybe about
How You light
The fuse--
Firework finale
But since it is late,
I will close my eyes,
Exhausted and sore
In the very best of ways,
And dream sweet dreams

Monday, February 8, 2010


A handmade card left on Master's pillow with a silly rhyme. Implements laid out on the bed for His use. And a lesson learned.

"'On the Monday before Valentine's Day, my Master gave to me/a bright pink bottom that looked so pretty,'" He read. "You don't have a pink bottom," Master looked bemused.

His little slave girl smiled, pulling back the duvet to display the arrangement of toys laid across the bed, "Not yet," she blushed. Alongside the usual toys were two apple tree switches that had been tried once before and not really liked. His girl thought this might be a good opportunity should Master choose them. She had briefly debated about running downstairs to get a wooden spoon or the small wooden cutting board to include. Or one of Master's belts. However, the selection seemed good enough. Master would add whatever He wanted if He wanted more.

A short while later, the bottom was pink from one of her favorites -- the paddle -- and Master was slamming hard into His slave, using her well. She felt herself slipping into that familiar head space, where each whack of the paddle, each forceful thrust sent waves of intense pleasure cascading throughout her body. Thrust. Whack. Thrust. Slap of hand. Thrust. Thwack of flogger on shoulders. Deeper thrust. Slap of crop across the breasts. Bottom hot. Pussy dripping. Cock filling, reaching in further. Erect nipples grazing the bed as they swung hard from the movement.

"Crack!" a stinging explosion of pain burst across her left thigh as Master snapped the slender switch from the apple tree. She could not help but whimper. "Snap!" a much lighter touch still brought fireworks of pain across her buttocks. Even lighter flicks were laid across her back. She remained still, bracing against the no longer pleasurable stabs of engorged cock into cunt. The apple switch was cast aside, a few thumps with was it the paddle? the flogger? the crop? she did not know. Each touch, however light, was almost unbearable. Each movement in or out caused pain. Feelings of embarrassment and shame flooded her. Feelings she could not process rationally. Images of schoolchildren from decades ago, suffering the pain and humiliation of a switching, paraded across her mind. She had never experienced this, never felt nor seen a switching; why did she feel the sting of punishment? She was not being punished, not being humiliated. One corner of her mind whispered this is Master, you are safe. This was an intimate moment with her Master, the One who protects and cares for her. Yet the fearful little girl inside would not listen. His little slave girl remained in position, her hair hiding the streaming tears. The evil branch came across her front, and she attempted to scoot out of its way.

"Get up here," said the stern voice of Master. She felt herself being pulled upright, arms pinned behind, the switch coming toward her breasts. A loud whimper of terror escaped her lips, the switch was dropped, she was released, and Master was gently astride her prone body. The only wetness remaining was on her cheeks and upper lip, as tears and mucus flowed. Master tossed the switches onto the floor and kissed His slave. Still the tears fell. Rolling off, Master pulled her close and held her, tenderly stroking her hair, wiping her tears, calming her with his gentle voice. "Only one more use of the apple branches," He whispered. She looked up at Him, both fearful and trusting at the same time. "May i please blow my nose first, Master?" Master nodded, allowing her to gather her composure.

"Pick up the branches," Master commanded. "Give them to Me, and sit on the edge of the bed."

Master knelt at eye level to His girl. "Open your hands," He instructed, laying the instruments of such incredible pain across her palms. "What do you want to do with them?"

She paused, thinking, loathe to even have them touch her hands. "Put them in the woodpile," she replied softly. "First...first break them."

"Then break them," Master said. "You take them and break them. No more apple switches. Ever."

His girl slowly bent them, folding them back and forth until they cracked and the green inside poked through. Then she handed them to her Master.

"Come, lie back down with Me." As she lay nestled and safe, Master did not press her for an explanation, and she could not find any within herself. Stroking His cock, she looked over at the unused cane. She picked it up and handed it to Master. He smiled. Caressing her, He began to lightly tap her feet, calves, and thighs, delighting in her moans of pleasure. "Would My girl like some of this?" He showed His hardened cock. Her smile was her answer, and He slid inside easily.

"I can tell what My girl likes: this is what she likes. This is the wet pussy that is ready for Me," He whispered.

Friday, February 5, 2010


my instep resting in Your arch
calf against calf
thigh pressed against thigh
buttocks pushed into Your groin
small of back to stomach
shoulder blade brushing chest
Your arm drapes across me
holding my breast.
drifting into slumber,
Your hand grasps my throat,
and i nestle into You
and sleep.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010


Master's slave is filled with contentment. The past couple of days have been rough, physically, and then emotionally. Feeling sick is not something i do well. I like to be up and going; however, i needed to rest and sleep. My body seemed to be against me, and that made me frustrated and upset.

Today was better. Master used His slave's mouth and throat, and i was so happy to have a mouthful of His cum this morning. This afternoon, He promised me the spanking that has been on hold for about a week. While He was downstairs, i quickly put on a little outfit He likes and waited. I had improvised a surprise by attaching my leash to the eye-hook above the bed and threading my hands through the ribbon tie on my skirt. As i knelt on the bed for His return, my anticipation and curiosity grew. Which of the implements laid out on the bed would be applied to my panty-clad bottom? Would He like His little surprise? One glance at His face, and i knew He approved. I didn't have to wait long, for He gave me a beautiful pink ass using the leather and sheepskin paddle. Then He surprised me. Several months ago, He bought a little toy for me a "blackberry" butt plug (Ass Berries Blackberry is the name). It has been sitting in the toy box, forgotten by me. But not by Master. He gently inserted it as i lay relaxed, bottom hot from the paddle. I had completely forgotten it had a vibrator inside. The buzzing gave me a start. Kneeling in front of Him, His slave was allowed to suck and stroke His cock. The vibrations from the blackberry were so intense, i could not help but ask to cum. As He again filled my throat with His cock, He allowed me to cum with Him. The sensation of His cock pulsating in the throat He owns, His hands touching His slave's body, and the blackberry buzzing in the ass that belongs to Him were overwhelming -- my entire being quivered.

As i lay on the bed while He gently (and not so gently) laid the flogger against my tender bottom and tapped the cane across my calves, thighs and buttocks (and gave me a few tingly welts), such feelings of appreciation for a Master who knows His slave so well washed over me.

The pinkness and the light welts have vanished, Master's holes are empty, but His girl is still filled with contentment.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010


Last Friday, Master clipped the leash onto my collar and led me out the door to run errands with Him. As He shut the door, i quickly captured the moment -- His hand firmly grasping the leash only inches from my neck. When i looked at it later, the image brought a smile to my face. His firmness, His complete ownership of His slave, and the caring but forceful reminder of His slave's place. His girl looking at her Master, submitting to His will, gazing up at Him, hand supine. To me, all of this was implied in the arrangement of pixels.

This was a point in time i wished to document: a picture to accompany the phrase, "Master took me to run errands with Him last Friday. He kept me on a short leash." However, Master did not approve of my attempt at "artistically" enhancing the picture. I was eager to show Him my efforts, and He was typically honest in His assessment. Typically correct.
Still, i felt disappointment. Disappointment in my lack of skill, in my inability to transfer my mental image to the digital outcome. Master suggested recreating the scene, posing to make it look closer to what i had in mind. However, to recreate it seems to lose the spontaneity, to falsify the experience. For a few minutes i pondered giving up my efforts to post pictures, to use new software, to learn. Those thoughts and emotions passed, and i realized that i am learning to push through my self-imposed expectations of perfection. Master takes me further than i think i can go. It isn't just during sex or a scene or in the assignments/chores He gives me. It is comprehensive. He pushes and prods me to become more than i have been afraid i could be.

And so, this image will remain untouched for personal viewing as a reminder of the lovely afternoon spent in Master's company -- Master and collared, rope-bound slave unnoticed in public.