YDLO

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	I am the collared property of SirMasterJohn. "Submission is a Gift only to be given with love & cannot be taken By Any Dom/Master but only to be Protected, cared for with guidence & cherished because as a gift a Master will insure it will be cared for & kept safe with all His power" A girl has to be confident to be a submissive. It cannot be done if you are unsure of yourself or your place with your Master/Sir/Dom. If you have questions about where you belong or who you are to him/her, you will never be happy in the relationship. Are you his/her submissive, the one he/she prefers or are you nothing more than a play thing, just something on the side or just there for the kink. Those are questions you have to ask yourself, and your Master/Sir/Dom. If you can't answer it for yourself, based on his answer to you, you need to get out. You must have confidence in who you are in order to serve. I am a submissive. I belong to him. I am the one he prefers. I am the one he holds, guides, trains and when needed disciplines. I am the one he spends his free time with, and I am the one he teaches how to please him...in the flesh....real time. I am a submissive...I am His submissive. My profile is a work in progress. Please be patient as I find the right words that will tell you about me and please Sir. Sir's Devoted Little One

I have not posted here in a long while. Mostly because the things that I want to write about always seem to cause some kind of drama for my Sir, and I don't want that. I know that if my words cause issues, that he will delete his account, and the only reason I am here on Collar Me is to please him.

After a discussion with him at lunch today, I gained his permission to update my profile. As of December 23, 2010, I am the collared property of Sir. I belong to him, heart, mind, body and soul. I am allowed to have friends, and He trusts my judgment in making those friends. I am loyal to him, faithful and will remain so until my heart stops beating.

I will not engage in the drama or BS that would drive him away. Should he make the decision to leave Collar Me, I will no longer have a reason to stay and will delete my profile as well.

I know I'm not the only one, but I am the preferred one, His little one, his collared one.

SirMasterJohn's Little One

A collar for Solstice.

I have struggled for months with your presence. I have felt inadequate. I have felt as though I am second.

Today, I have come to terms with that. I can't compete. He has you on a pedistool...and me in his arms. I call that a fair trade off.

Mere shadow, a trick of light. I'm at peace...with you...with me. I'm at peace in his arms, at his side, in his heart....in his love.

What is your favorite Sex Toy? Mine? It is the mind. Seduce my body and you can hold me for a night.... Seduce my mind...and you can hold me for a lifetime.

Have His patience paid off, or worn thin?

As I learn more about my role as a submissive, I find that this is where my heart has always been. Every day I spend serving Sir I find deeper purpose in being bound to His side. This evening, I cooked a meal for Him, and His praise made my heart feel as though it would burst from His pride. I love cooking for Him. I love watching Him as he enjoys the work of my hands. After our meal, Sir invited me into His arms, and we spent the remainder of the evening, laying together, talking about nothing at all important. Our time together is more precious every time. I'm starting to find peace in every second we spend, even those that take Him from me. I know He will be back, and I know, because He tells me all the time, that I belong to Him, that I am His Little One and that He loves me. I am a very lucky girl. I know my place and I have no doubt of who I am when I am in His arms.

Tested (Long Story) The note he left taped to my door gave very simple directions, the name of the hotel and the time I was to arrive. I was a bit confused by the note, but thrilled at the prospect of spending the evening with him?if only I had known then, what I would come to know in the next few hours. I arrived a few moments ahead of schedule, and made my way to the front desk. I have the clerk my name, and saw a smile play over her pretty face. ?You are in room 312. The elevators there will take you to the third floor.? I thanked the clerk and started to walk away, only to have her call me back. ?You are his Little One, yes?? I blushed deeply and smiled. ?I am.? With a nod, she reached under the desk and handed me a large box. ?I was instructed to give you this, and this?.? She handed me the note as well. ?I would hurry if I were you?he did not strike me as the kind of man that likes to be kept waiting.? Again, I blushed, but could see that Sir had left his impression on the girl, she was all but trembling as she passed his instructions on. I love the powerful way he has with people, and love knowing that I am the person he holds most tightly with his power. I passed her a tip, whispering ?You have no idea how he hates to be kept waiting.? I opened the note, and was careful to control my expression so not to give the girl behind the counter any additional fuel for the dreams I was sure she would have of the encounter with Sir later. I looked around, noted the sign for the ladies room, and quickly made my way there. Once inside, I quickly removed the bindings from the box, and then looked at the contents with total disbelief. He wanted me to put this on, and wear it across the lobby, on the elevator and up to his room? For a few seconds I stood there looking at the clothing, and then glanced at my watch. There as no time to question, and in all truth, what was there to question, this was what Sir had instructed, and mine was but to follow his instructions to the letter. I lifted the black leather vest, skirt, boots and all of the other wonderful things he had chosen for me and made my way to the stall. My business clothes were quickly removed, as well as all the under-things I had worn. I hesitated only a moment as I lifted the VERY short skirt from the box once more. The skirt looked as though it had been tailor made to fit my curves, and as I pulled it over my hips, I found that it fit me perfectly, wrapping me in the smooth leather. The zipper in the back glided up easily. The skirt only struck less than mid way down my thigh, leaving me to feel very exposed, which I am sure now was his intent. I was nervous, but very excited as well. Next came the vest. It too, had been perfectly tailored to fit me, in such a way that there would be no need for a bra. I slipped it over my shoulders and then nearly fell over when I saw what was supposed to keep the tight garment closed over my breasts. A dark violet ribbon was threaded through the eyelets, and when I began lacing the opening I realized that the vest only covered that which had to be covered to be legal in public! I groaned as I thought of the looks I would get walking across the lobby, and shook my head. I wasn?t at all sure that I could do this alone, without his hand guiding me. Trembling fingers reached for the boots of their own accord. The thin heels had me shaking my head again, visions of me sprawled across the lobby floor dancing through my head. I pulled the left boot on first, and reached for the zipper that ran along my inner thigh. I don?t know why I expected it would be to tight, when every thing else had fit me so well, but the zipper glided silently up, and the soft leather on my calf reminded me of the way it felt when he ran his hand up my calf to my thigh. A shiver passed through me at the mere thought, and I could feel something starting to happen to me as I pulled the other boot on, and zipped it as well. Some thing inside of me shifted, and I could feel a confidence I had rarely felt before begin to well inside of me, and move over my emotions like his hands over my flesh. Stepping from the stall, I was a different woman standing in there looking back at me. Gone was the up tight executive assistant I pretended to be by day. There, looking back at me, was his Little One, the one he preferred over all others, and the one he loved. I moved closer to the mirror and reached back to release the red curls from the bun at the back of my head. They fell softly around my face, tickling my cheek, bringing a smile to my lips. I took a moment more to touch up my make-up, pack my business clothes into the box, and then flipped open my cell phone. ?Front Desk? came the familiar voice. I stammered at first, but then found the confidence in my voice. ?I have followed His instructions. Will you please collect the box from the last stall and hold it at the desk for me?? There was awe in her voice as she softly agreed. ?Of course, you may pick it up when you are ready.? I closed my phone, gave myself one last look, and reached for the door. I stepped out, as the clerk stepped in, and I heard her softly whisper ?Lucky girl.? I said nothing, but let her words make me far bolder than I felt. My head was held high, my eyes straight ahead. If they were looking, let them look. This was what he wanted, and I would have crawled across that lobby bare ass naked if that had been His desire. I could hear the heels tapping lightly on the marble tiled floor, and I even heard a few women call me a slut and whore, but I kept walking. Reaching the elevator, I pressed the button and waited. I noted the man from the corner of my eye. He caught my attention because of his size. I am 5?6? tall, with the heels, I was 5?10?, and I was still looking up at him. He was built solid, like a mountain, and dressed from head to toe in black. The suit looked expensive, and the black shirt under the jacket begged to be touched. I gave myself a mental shake, pulled my eyes forward, and waited, next to the mountain for the doors to open. As the doors finally opened, the man stepped forward, held the door for me and motioned me inside. ?After you, ma?am.? There was something almost dangerous in his voice, though it is only now that I realize that. I thanked him, stepped inside, and it was only then that I saw his twin standing behind me, and the two mountains stepped inside the elevator with me. To say they made me nervous would be an understatement and in hindsight, I realize now that I should have listened to that small voice telling me something was not right. I let the warning bells in my head be ignored, I reached for the button, only to find my arm grabbed by the first mountain. In less than a flash, I was pinned against the wall, while the other man, quickly put tape over my mouth. When I felt the elevator stop, I thought I might make a break, but the laundry cart was dragged inside, and before I could really understand what was happening, I was blindfolded, tossed into the cart and the linens were tossed over me. ?You will be very quiet, and very still, or you will be punished. Do you understand?? The voice was perfectly calm, as though he had asked me if I would like a glass of tea, but his hand in my hair, and the cold feel of a blade against my cheek did much to convince me that I would do exactly as I was told. I knew that whatever was going on, Sir was expecting me, and the clerk in the lobby would remember me. I was perfectly still, and not even a sob escaped, though fear had me angry as hell, and when I get angry?I cry. In my mind, I was plotting and planning. ?When I get out of this basket, I?m going to kick his ass.? I told myself. I wish self had been listening, or at very least had bothered to bring her back bone, for when the elevator stopped again, and I was moved from the basket to the car, I did little more than groan, when I was tossed onto the back seat. One of my hands was grabbed, held so tightly that I was sure there would be a bruise, and I remember thinking how angry Sir would be that someone would dare to mark His property, then I felt the handcuff slide over that wrist and was then attached to something I had to assume was the door handle. Then the other hand was treated to the same and there I sat, mad as hell and ready to cuss them both, when I felt the ball forced into my mouth, and the buckle was fastened behind my head. Well this was a fine kettle of fish! Handcuffed, blindfolded, and now gagged. I really was going to kick their asses when I got loose. I heard the doors up front open, felt the car shift with their weight, and then the doors slam. I kicked the back of the seat, screamed, ineffectively, from behind the gag, and impotently voiced my displeasure. And what did I get for my trouble? The bastards LAUGHED AT MY ANGER! I felt the car moving backward and then forward and then, I just felt the forward surge of the car, without a clue where I was going, who had taken me, or if anyone had even seen what had happened to me. I thought of Sir, sitting in the room waiting for me. Would he think that the clothes he had asked me to wear had been to much for me to bear and I had left, or would he check with the desk to see if I had arrived? I was so scared. It seemed hours had passed before the car began to slow. The road we were on now was still well maintained, but it curved and dipped and turned. My sense of direction had long ago failed me, and I had no clue where I was. I had fallen silent, still plotting, and prepared to fight like a hellcat if they were ever foolish enough to let me have my hands unbound. All these thoughts racing through my mind, I missed the sound of the glass sliding down, but I felt those massive hands once more take hold of my wrists, and as though he had read my mind, he held both wrists tightly while his cohort wrapped what felt like a silk tie around my wrists and then pulled them very tight, causing me to whimper with the pain. ?Shhhh, remember, not a sound.? This voice was different, but familiar. I raced through my mind trying to place the sound of the man?s voice, but fear caused my memory to fail me. One of the mountains reached into back seat, lifted me into his arms and held me tight against his chest. ?You will be good, won?t you?? There it was again. I knew that voice, there was almost something comforting about it, and the way I could feel him gently caressing my nearly bear shoulder with his thumb. I heard a door open, and my heart jumped into my throat. All the talking I had always done about fighting like hell if I were ever abducted was for nothing. I was frozen with fear. Stepping across the threshold into the house, I heard a woman?s voice, again, it was vaguely familiar and almost comforting. I tried to bring the voice to the front of my memory, but fear and anger held my mind captive. ?Careful, Thomas, He does not want her harmed, at least not by us.? Thomas? Slave Thomas, the very same slave that Sir had introduced me to just a few nights before at the munch? And that woman?s voice?who was that? ?Yes Mistress.? Hearing his voice once more, recognition washed over me and I began to fight in his arms. I felt his grasp on me loosen for a split second, and then I felt the sharp pain of the ?zapper? against my inner thigh. ?Little One, you will be still.? Mistress Helena?s voice now broke through my foggy brain, and I whimpered, nodding automatically. I wasn?t sure what was going on, but I was sure that Sir was not going to like the fact that these people he had been so gracious to introduce me to, had stolen me out of His grasp. Thomas whispered softly ?Little One, please do as she says. I do not wish to be the one to hurt you.? His voice was so sweet, so comforting that I turned my head into his shoulder, and began to sob in earnest. I was taken into a room that was so cold, I instantly had goose bumps on my exposed skin, and found myself trying to snuggle into the warmth of Thomas? body. At lease he was someone I knew. I had sat with him that night at Sanctuary, while Sir had played with His other girl. Thomas had done his best to keep me distracted so that I would not watch what was going on. He had been engaging enough, and I soon found that I did not care what was happening across the room between Sir and that girl. Now, that familiar timbre of his voice again comforted me, and gave me some hope. ?Place her there, and be sure she is securely bound.? Mistress Helena?s voice carried authority, and I could feel myself being placed upright, on my feet. My hands were lifted over my head, and the silk tie was used as a barrier between my wrists and the hemp rope I could feel against my hands. I felt my arms being lifted, and I again began to buck against what was happening. The sound of the whip broke the silence of the room, and the white hot pain shot up my leg where the whip had kissed my inner thigh, and washed over me, effectively freezing me in my tracks. ?Little One, I will not tell you again.? Mistress Helena?s voice was stern, and seemed to come from the direction of the whip. My arms were hoisted, until my feet barely touched the floor. It was then I felt the hand on my ankle, and as if she could read my mind, the whip cracked again, this time kissing the opposite thigh. ?Little One, if you kick Thomas, I will make you pay dearly.? Her voice scared the thought right out of my mind. I felt the rope tighten around the soft leather, and I remember thinking ?Please don?t scar my boots!? What a strange thought, but it was there none the less. Then the rope was tightened around the other ankle, and I felt hands wandering up my leg, over the leather of the boot, along the inside of my thigh, and then I heard the crack of the whip again, but not a word was spoken. I knew that whoever had received the whip that time had stepped over the line, and was touching me in a way he was not supposed to have done. I felt hands once more take hold of first one ankle, then the other, and realized that the bar had been placed between my legs so that I was spread open and exposed to any eyes in the room. To my shame, I felt my body respond to that knowledge. For what seemed a life time, I hung there in the silence. I was unsure if I was alone, or before a company of many eyes. There was no sound or light to indicate the type of place I hung in, and I could feel panic starting to rise. ?Little One, this night you will be tested.? Mistress Helena?s voice was controlled, soft, and yet commanding. ?And if you are found worthy, you will be given a great gift.? Hearing her voice, and her words, I began to realize that something was happening here, something that would change me forever. ?If you are found lacking, you will remain just a girl, nothing more than a servant. You have been trained for this, and tonight we will see how well you have learned your lessons.? I heard the sounds of many voices whispering approval of her words. Suddenly, I was more frightened than I had been when I thought I was being kidnapped. It was more important than that. If I failed, I might be sent away from Sir, and I could not allow that to happen. Once more there was silence all around me, it began to close in on me like a small tight space, but this time, when I felt the panic begin to rise in me, I started to talk to myself. Sir knew this fear, He knew that more than anything else, I feared the dark, and I feared small places. ?Let your mind drift Melamine. Pretend you are beside the ocean, feel the warm sand under your feet. Lift your face, and feel the warmth of the sun on your face.? As the calming technique He taught me began to play in my mind, I let my head fall back, and though I was still in darkness, I could feel the warmth of the sunshine my Sir had described for me, bathing my face in light. So distracted by the thought was I, that at first, I missed the feel of the cold blade moving over my thigh, the tip scraping over the flesh, but the sensation was driven home, when the hilt of the knife was pressed against my clit. Cold, and hard, it somehow drew a whimper of arousal from me. I remained completely still as the hilt moved along my wet slit, and then played right at the opening of my sex. I felt myself actually try to open my legs further, but bound as I was, I was stuck in this position, completely at the mercy, or lack thereof, of the one using my own body against me. I felt the gloved hand move over my thigh, replacing the hilt of the knife. My clit was pinched, rubbed and then pinched again, over and over again until I thought I might explode, but my tormentor was well versed in the responses of the body, and each time he or she felt me reaching the edge, hands would be withdrawn, replaced by the knife blade, which moved over my thighs, both front and back and then over my bottom, under the leather skirt. In one swift, sudden motion, I felt the skirt cut away, with a ripping sound that made me sick. I really loved that skirt and it was brand new! I shook the thought away, and it was replaced with a new thought, my ass was now bare for anyone to see. I had been working very hard on getting comfortable with being naked before others, and had not yet accomplished the task. There was little time to think on it, as my mind was jerked away by the feel of the whip, lightly kissing my flesh. I jumped the first couple of times, but soon a rhythm way established, and it was not long before I was moaning with each touch, begging, in my silence, for more. I don?t know how long it lasted, but when the lashes stopped, I found myself trying to push the ball out of my mouth, so that I could thank my tormentor. I swear if I had been released at that moment, I would have been on my knees before the whip master?s feet, kissing his or her boots. Again, I was surrounded by silence, left to collect my thoughts, but not for long. The knife played over my flesh, as a rough-gloved hand, like an exfoliating glove, played over my tender ass. The sensation was overwhelming, and I could feel my juices flowing hot against my leg. In a swift motion, I felt the knife under the ribbon holding my vest closed, and then, I felt the cold air on my bare breasts, followed by the tip of the knife tracing the brown ring around each nipple. My body would betray me again, as my nipples stood up proud and begged to be touched. The one tormenting me layed the zapper against my right nipple, causing me to jerk slightly, but before I could pull to far away, the zapper was placed against my left nipple. I wanted to pull away, to cover my tender breasts, but there was to be no escape. Fingers pulled and tugged at my nipples, making them ache. Each time I would whimper, or show the slightest discomfort, the zapper was again applied to each. Then, there were no hands, no zapper, not even the knife. The silence had returned. Giving me time once more to try and collect my thoughts. To try to recall all the training Sir had given me. My actions here not only proved how well I had been trained, but also proved Him as a Master as well. I would make him proud, even if it tore me apart inside to do it. I heard the crack in the same instant I felt the whip kiss my nipple. There was a little yelp from me, not once, but each time the whip cracked and was laid to my sensitive flesh. My nipples were so hard, I could not have honestly told you what hurt more, the arousal or the bit of the whip. Not that it mattered, the sensation was amazing, and I was so near orgasm I was sure that I would disgrace myself and have that release without permission, but I fought the sensation, and to my tormentor?s credit, he/she would stop just short of pushing me over the edge. The whip could be applied to flesh from across the room with deadly accuracy when in the hands of a whip master, I soon learned that lesson. I heard the whip crack, and anticipated the feeling on my nipple, only to find that it struck my clit, causing me to moan as loud as was possible with the diabolical ball gag in my mouth. The pain and pleasure were exquisite and are to this day burned forever in my memory. With accuracy and skill, the whip kissed my wet lips over and over again, from time to time licking at my clit, just for spite. To my already battered senses, it seemed that this went on for days, and all the while I was denied and denied myself the release I so badly needed. After what seemed eternity, I realized that the whip crack had not sounded in many seconds, and I could feel hands at the back of my head, unbuckling the ball gag. I heard Thomas? voice near my ear. ?You are doing well Little One. Your Sir is very proud.? His words caused me to lift my head. Sir was there? He was watching? For a moment, I was very embarrassed, but then I realized I had nothing to be ashamed of, not this time. I was doing all I could to show how well I was trained. ?Here, drink this.? His voice was gentle as he guided the cup to my lips. The water was cool, quenching the thirst I had not even realized was there. ?Enough? came Mistress Helena?s voice. It was sharp and harsh. As Thomas started to move away I whispered my thanks, and bowed my head. I sincerely hoped that the gag would be returned to my mouth. I was so tired, and my body ached, I was afraid if it was not returned that I might disgrace myself and Sir by asking for mercy. Relief washed over me as hands guided the ball back into my mouth, and it was again buckled. I would remember to thank Thomas if ever I had the opportunity to look upon his face. The room grew silent, the cold darkness imposed by the blindfold began to press in around me once more, and just before I felt the panic begin to rise, I heard someone draw near. The silence was deafening as I waited for what would come next. What came next was as unexpected as the whip had been, only this time, it came at me from all directions. Perfectly timed I felt floggers come at me from every direction. Not one inch of my exposed flesh was left untouched. It could have been one or four tormentors this time and each of them had been charged with the specific goal to drive me crazy! My breasts, my thighs, my calves, my bare ass, even my clit, were all pelted with the floggers. Some were made of soft suede, so were made from the harder leather. I could feel the knotted lashes, and even the beautiful rose shaped lashes I had shown to Sir at a shop we had visited. Each contact with my skin took me deeper and deeper. I had no idea that I had begun to squirm and whimper with each contact. Tears ran down my face, and sweat beaded on my forehead. I was so close to explosion, I was sure that I would be consumed by the desire being fanned to a fevered pitch in my very soul. And then?suddenly?it was over. I hung there, in the silence once more, my breathing labored, coming in soft whimpers and sobs. This time I began to gather my thoughts as the groomer approached me with the soft brush. Gentle hands moved over my body in time and rhythm with the brush. Softly soothing words that I could not make out where whispered by a voice I could not confirm as male or female. My heart rate began to slow, my breathing was less labored. I felt the arm slip around my waist, as the tension in the rope above my head was loosed. I had not realized that my ankles had already been released, not until my body was lifted, and again held against Thomas? strong chest. He spoke softly, comforting me, reassuring me that I was doing well, and it would be over soon. I?m sure he was breaking the rules by comforting me, and I knew he would more than likely be punished severely, but I was so grateful to hear his voice. The cold of the table shocked my senses as I was laid down. I felt the zipper of the leather boots sliding down, both at the same time, and I again thought about how pretty the boots were, but it was only a fleeting thought as I felt my ankles bound once more wide apart, my arms were laid out, and my wrists once more bound. My hair was brushed from my face, tenderly. A damp cool cloth was used to bathe my face. The slave girl spoke softly as she tended me. ?Shhh, please do not cry. You have done well, it is almost done.? Her words were a balm to my fevered mind, just as her hands and the cool cloth were a balm to my flesh. I felt her fingers play over a couple of the whelps on my stomach and thighs. I could hear her whisper something to someone, but could not make out her words. Soon, even her sweet touch was gone, and I felt like crying again. The shock of the hot wax moved through my body like a flame. The wax came from above my body, bathed my right nipple first and the left. A ?Y? was made from one breast to the other, and then the line moved down my stomach, over my pubic mound and I felt something cold against my lips, just before the hot wax pooled over my clit. I squirmed, and writhed on the table, but I?m not sure if I was trying to get away from the sensation, or prolong it. The delicious heat was soothing and exciting. Almost as soon as the tingle of the hot wax began to diminish, I could feel a cold sensation move over my nipples, and cold water began to trickle over my skin, bringing up goose flesh. The icy cube played over each nipple, down the line on my belly and then was rubbed against the thin sheath of wax that covered my clit. It was maddening! I could feel the cold, could feel the pressure of the cube being pressed against the wax, but it was a barrier, keeping me from fully enjoying the touch. The melting water trickled down over my lips, teasing and taunting, but leaving me unfulfilled. I was again allowed to relax, to collect my thoughts, but only for a breath, before I felt the needle pricks on my inner thigh. I recognized the sound of the tattoo gun, and thought that I might pull away, forgetting that my legs were bound apart. The tiny little pin pricks continued for a long while, tears rolling down my cheeks, pooling on the table in my hair. The sweet slave girl was back, talking to me, comforting words near my ear, and I recognized the feel of Thomas? hands holding my leg very still, even though the bindings would not let me move. When it was done, I felt the fresh sting of the ink, and wondered how I had been marked. Had I passed the test? Before I could really form the thoughts, Thomas? hands were under me, rolling me to my side, so that my left leg was on top. He took hold of my leg, and again bound it so that I could not move it. I felt the needles, and my right leg jumped, earning me a slap on my bare ass cheek. I whimpered, and felt the right leg bound as well. This time the tattooing hurt, as it was over the bone. It was being done on my left calf, above my ankle. I don?t remember what happened next, only that I was floating. My mind had taken me to a green meadow, the sunshine dancing over the wildflowers. I recognized where my mind had gone. It was that place Sir had called ?sub space?, a place where I was truly free to be the submissive I longed to be. I would not say that I was broken, but I will say that my will no longer mattered, all that I cared about was pleasing Sir, my last thought for many hours, was had he been pleased? Had I passed the test? When I woke, back in the hotel room, room 312, I was sore and stiff. I could feel where several of the whelps had been tended, and a salve of some kind had been massaged into them. I tried to sit up, but felt a hand on my shoulder. I forced my eyes open, and found His face there above me. ?Melamine, be still.? His voice brought tears to my eyes, but they were happy tears. ?It has been a long night and you will need to rest.? He kissed my forehead, and gently moved to pull me into his arms. I groaned with the movement, even as I found myself trying to curl into Him. He was there, and he was taking care of me?that was my thought as I drifted back to sleep, held against him. I heard the knocking on the door, and the vaguely familiar sound of the clerk?s voice. ?Her are her things. Do you require anything more?? He must have shook his head, because I never heard his voice, but I did hear the soft click of the door as he closed it. ?Melamine, wake up. It is time.? I hated opening my eyes, hated knowing that soon I would have to get in my truck and make my way home without him, but I did as he ordered. The room was dim. I had slept the whole day, and into the evening. I was suddenly worried about the girls. ?Sir?have you spoke to my girls? Do they know that I am in your hands?? He nodded to me and gave a that devilish smile ?They knew you were spending the weekend with me. I would not have let them worry over your safety.? His words brought a smile to my face and I found even the smile hurt a little. He directed me to the shower, stepped into the warm steamy space with me and helped me wash my hair. He ran his hands over my body, inspected the whelps left behind and when he came to the place on my inner thigh, I suddenly remembered the sound of the tattoo gun. ?Sir?.what mark have you given me?? He grinned. ?Fear not My Little one, this one is not real, not yet.? My eyes drifted where his fingers lingered over the black mark. There on my thigh, right where I had told him I would like to have the tattoo were the letters ?SMJDLO? I laughed softly and then remembered he had said ?This one?? I looked down my leg, and noticed where the other bandage was still protecting the new ink. I reached to remove it, but he stayed my hand. ?Here, let?s not get it wet.? He helped me from shower, used the thick towels to dry my skin and then wrapped me up tight in the over sized robe. I sat down on the edge of the tub and he gently pulled back the bandage. There, on my leg, the symbol of the Bound Rose. I looked up at him, my eyes awash with unshed tears and smiled. ?You made me very proud Little One. You proved yourself to me and everyone there.? He cupped my cheek, leaned forward and kissed my forehead. I had passed the test. I now bore the mark of the Bound Rose, and I was well on my way to becoming His forever Little One.

I've made mistakes in my life. I've let people take advantage of me, and I accepted way less than I deserve. But, I've learned from my bad choices and even thought there are are some things I can never get back and people who will never be sorry, I'll know better next time and I WILL NOT SETTLE FOR ANYTHING LESS THAN I DESERVE!

There is something that I am never going to understand. Why is it that people can't just leave each other alone? Why do they have to try to get into each other's heads and plant doubts, fears and any number of other destructive things. This lifestyle can be hard enough, especially if you are new to the lifestyle, or if you don't have alot of experience. I am fortunate enough to have Sir to guide me through, but not every submissive has that kind of loving hand to guide her, and far to often an unprotected girl will be preyed upon. Get a clue! Everyone play nice. Keep your hands and your sick twisted games to yourself. And you....yeah...you know who you are. LEAVE ME ALONE! Your days of messing with my head are over. Sir knows all about me, so please, by all means try your sick little twisted games with him and see how fast he puts you in your place.

A girl has to be confident to be a submissive. It cannot be done if you are unsure of yourself or your place with your Master/Sir/Dom. If you have questions about where you belong or who you are to him/her, you will never be happy in the relationship. Are you his/her submissive, the one he/she prefers or are you nothing more than a play thing, just something on the side or just there for the kink. Those are questions you have to ask yourself, and your Master/Sir/Dom. If you can't answer it for yourself, based on his answer to you, you need to get out. You must have confidence in who you are in order to serve. I am a submissive. While I am not collared by him, I still belong to him. I am the one he prefers. I am the one he holds, guides, trains and when needed disciplines. I am the one he spends his free time with, and I am the one he teaches how to please him...in the flesh....real time. I am a submissive...I am His submissive.

I always look forward to our date nights. I miss you so much from one encounter to the next that I find myself counting the hours when I wake up on Wednesday morning. We usually talk about what we are going to do, or have an idea of what we might like to see, but this time, nothing was said and I had no idea what to expect. The early evening was cool, well cool for late August in Texas. When you arrived, you asked me if I would like to go for a ride. With a smile I told you that I would love to. Walking out to the car, you take my hand, and bring it to your lips. Nothing is really said, but from the look in your eyes, I can tell that you are as glad to see me as I am you. When you open the door, you wait until I am settled, and then lean in to kiss me. It is so rare these days that you do that, I'm taken by surprise, especially when the kiss is rough and almost savage, but that does not stop me from responding in kind. As you pull away from me, you catch my lower lip between your teeth, biting me and sending a thrill of pleasure through my body. That wicked Sir smile plays across your face, and I know that I'm in for a very memorable evening. I sit quietly for a long time at your side, the music playing causes me to smile when I realize it is the very first CD you ever put together for me. I begin to sing along, softly enjoying the music and my time with you. I begin to recognize things and look over at you with a smile. "Sir, are we going to the lake" You simply look at me and smile. When we arrive, you seem very glad to see that the spot we parked in the very first time was open, and I like seeing you smile. Without a word, you get out of the car, go to the back and begin taking a few things from the SUV and walking behind the treeline. I look back over my shoulder, trying to see where you are going but you seem to have disappeared. When I hear you return to the SUV, I look back over my shoulder and ask if I can help. You tell me no, to stay right where I am, and you will be there for me in a moment. Not sure what is going on, I continue watching you. Finally you come for me, open my door and offer your hand. I place my hand in yours, and turn so that I am facing you. Before I can say anything, you put your finger over my lips and pull me out of the seat and against your body. As you close the door, you stir us backward, so that my body is caught between you and the warm metal of the car, and I can feel your hard-on even through your jeans, but you give me no opportunity to comment as you claim me in a kiss that would make a sailor blush! Your hands move to cup my breasts, and you begin to squeeze them. For several seconds, I'm concerned that someone might see, but as you continue with the kiss and your hands play over my nipples, I find I don't care of they do. I don't know how long the kiss has lasted, but when you pull away from my lips, I actually whimper, earning myself a hard pinch on each nipple. "No whining Little One." Your voice is rough and gravely with passion. Taking my hand you lead me away from parking spot, behind the tree-line. I stop, just looking at all that you have done. It is clear you have been here earlier. There is a tent set up, and a campfire burning, to keep the bugs away. I look at you, and you have that self-satisfied Sir grin on your face. You give my hand a small tug, pulling me closer to the camp site. As I enter the circle, I notice that it is very secluded. The trees are so thick that I cannot see the road, that I know is very near, and when I look behind me, I cannot see where we are parked, just a few feet away. What I can see causes me to swallow back a nervous laugh, all the while my feet taking me deeper into your "dungeon". From a large branch I can see the suspension bar that I have described to your a couple of times. The chair is looped over the branch, the bar, about 3 1/5 feet long swings innocently in the slight breeze. I notice that you have even added the hooks so that it would be easy to loop a rope through each, and tie pretty hands up out of the way. As though that were not enough, I notice that you have also placed the "spreader" bar I described to you, on the ground, just lurking there, awaiting rope, so that pretty ankles can be tied to it, holding my legs apart. Again, I swallow back that nervous laugh. And how could I have missed those? Laying on what looks like a small folding picnic table, your floggers have all been carefully laid out, as well as your "zapper", the brush, the wooden spoon and all your other favorite toys. Somewhere in my mind, I wonder when you took your bag, and why I hadn't noticed, but to be honest at that moment all I can think is I'm in serious trouble. "Strip" is all that you say to me, causing me to look at you as though you have lost your mind, but when you look back over your shoulder at me, there is that look that tells me I will regret arguing with your or trying to reason. I begin taking off my clothes, hesitating when it comes to my under things, hoping you will allow me to keep them. "All of them Melamine." Your voice some how seems gruff and demanding, but the use of that word reminds me that you love me, and you love seeing me. Once I am completely naked, I move to your side, my head down, my eyes locked on the ground. "Lift your head Little One." Slowly my eyes move up your body, my head lifting, until I am looking into your eyes. I see the collar that I have not worn in such a long time in your hands, and can feel the leather scratching gently against my throat as you put it around my neck. A soft smile comes to my face as you bite my neck before pulling away to look at me. You turn your back, and bring the leather cuffs over and one is placed around each wrist and ankle. You test each one to make sure that they are all properly fitting and that they will not chaff or leaves marks you do not intend left. Not a word from you. Nothing, you do not even ask me if I'm afraid. I know that this is a test of some sort, and so I do not offer any of my usual smart-ass remarks. I follow you toward the trees where the bars are. The rope is drawn through the hook for my left arm and then through the hoop on the cuff and you lift my arm over my head by pulling on the rope, and repeat the steps as my right arm is tied and lifted. Still, without a word, you place the bar between my feet, I had not noticed before rings on the end of the bar. I watch with a strange curiosity as you line the rings up with the ones on my ankle cuffs and small locks are slid through the rings. As you stand, your run your hand up the inside of my thigh, but deny me the pleasure of your touch. Now that you have me bound here, you move out of my sight and are gone for several minutes. I'm hanging there, wondering where you have gone, and even for the span of a heartbeat if you are coming back. I cannot turn to see where you have gone, so for these moments the panic starts to build. I feel your hands before I know you are there, causing me to yelp in surprise, earning a hard smack on the ass. A quite "Thank you, Sir" is all I say. I feel the blindfold cover my eyes and then all is dark. I can feel you retreat several steps away from me, and for what seems a life time, I am alone in the dark of the blindfold. I cannot hear your moving, or breathing and again, I wonder if I have been left and if you will be coming back for me. The first indication you are there is the sound of the zapper makes just before I whimper at the feel of the shock against my nipple. I jump, but my bindings prevent me from covering myself, and because of the shock, I actually scream. "Shhhhh....Melamine...you do not want to call attention to yourself do you?" Your voice holds laughter. "If you cannot control yourself, I will gag you." This said as you place the zapper against the other nipple. I jump and whimper, but I don't scream. You still are not pleased that I have made any sound, and I hear you move away from me. Upon your return, your voice is hard. "Open your mouth Little One." I do as you have directed and you place the ball in my mouth, and I feel you begin to buckle the hated thing around head so that I cannot spit it out. I can hear you chuckle in that diabolical way. "Now you will be a good girl." I can feel that hated zapper once again against my sensitive nipple, the electrical shock causing me to gasp, but no sound escapes this time. I can almost see that smug satisfied Sir look on your face as your treat the other nipple to a matching shock. Then your mouth closes over first one, then the other. Biting and licking and then pinching and pulling on each nipple as if to prove your ownership of both. With my legs bound apart, I feel you reach between and begin to stroke and pinch my clit, and my body responds, as I become very wet. Unable to make any intelligible sound, all I can do is whimper my pleasure...to which your response is more soft laughter. I feel your fingers thrust inside me over and over again, bringing me very close to the edges of my control, but you stop just short and your fingers are replaced by something warm....and vibrating. I groan, knowing what I am in for over the next few minutes. "Little One, you are very wet." You say as you spank me hard. "I'm very pleased." Another hard slap from the wooden spoon. "You will hold the egg inside you, no matter what." You pause, bringing the wooden spoon down on my bare breast "Do you understand?" But before I can answer your bring the spoon down on the other breast. I whimper, and nod. Over the next several minutes, you do not touch me. I can feel you very near to me, but you have your hands busy, playing with the remote control. Your whole attention is focused on watching me struggle to control the muscles as you play with the egg you have buried deep inside me. High then low, then high again, you bring me ever closer to an explosion which you have no intention of allowing me to have. As suddenly as it started, you have stopped playing with the egg, and my body, is so tense as I struggle desperately to not drop the egg. My struggle is so intense that I have not even realized that you have stopped playing with the intensity of the vibration, and so I am surprised by the first lashes of the flogger. I jump, trying to pull away, but my bindings hold me in one place as over and over again, the flogger finds my skin. Between my legs, across my breasts, up and down my back and stomach....you do not leave an inch of my skin untouched by the flogger's kiss. The intensity so great that every muscle in my body is pulled taunt. Abruptly, the flogging stops and I feel your lips on my cheek, kissing away the tears I am not even aware have begun to fall. I feel your kisses, and you move the soft brush over my skin, helping me to calm down and relax. As you pull me close to you, whispering soft words of comfort to me, I can feel your hard cock through your shorts, letting me know that you are pleased with me. First the gag is removed, then the blindfold. I can feel you unbinding my ankles, and your loving hands gently rub where the leather has been against my skin. Your hands move up my body, caressing, kissing and loving me as you go, until you have released my hands, and have guided my arms down so that they are resting around your neck. My eyes are diverted, looking away until you tell me to look at you. Your voice is gentle, though still very gruff with passion when my eyes meet yours. "You have no need to feel like you compete with anyone. I prefer you, you are my favorite toy...my Little One. No one compares to you." My face is tear stained and my eyes are awash with unshed tears, but the tender smile on my face tells you that they are happy tears. Holding me close to you, you move us to the tent and pull back the flap. Inside, you have already prepared a bed that we will share.