e with the framework has already been done to include additional partners in our relationship.

12/17/2009 11:44:33 PM: If we can hold back the darkness ...The winter solstice began last night at sunset.  I sit here awaiting the dawn of the new day.  A day that will be just one minute longer than yesterday.  It is my small ritual that I stay awake all night keeping at least one candle burning from sunset until sunrise.  This is a celebration of light on the longest night of the year. Virtually every religion has a celebration of light near this time. This indicates there is something deep within the human spirit that calls us to celebrate now. I think we need to look within, to find what that is calling to truly understand what this holiday is about.I think that much of why people are now confused about this, about the meaning of this holiday, is that our modern society and all its conveniences has insulated, even isolated, us from the world as our ancestors experienced it. Think for a while about how people lived say a thousand years ago. There was no electricity, no light bulbs or flashlights; at best they had a small number of candles they made themselves from rendering animal fat. They did not live in the type of houses we know. Families huddled together for warmth in a drafty, one room hut. They had a mud floor and the only insulation was the snow on the roof which produced constant drips inside as it melted. The garage where you keep your car would have seemed luxurious by comparison. Any village with more than about a hundred people would have been called a city. So you knew everyone by name and were probably related to them within two or three generations.  We also knew it was unlikely that we would all survive the winter.  Odds were strong that someone in the village would succumb to the cold and weather and not have the strength to hold on until spring.  Even if by some miracle all our people survived how much of our livestock could we keep alive? Would there be enough feed for the cows? Would there be enough food for us that we would not have to eat the last milk cow? A thousand years ago we lived with death as a certainty; it was just a matter of who and how many would perish this winter.So on the longest night of the year, the time of greatest darkness, we celebrate light and life. For our ancestors this was nothing less than defiance of death. With blazing fires they declared they would not let the darkness take them. Voices raised in song they marched from house to house with torches to drive back the shadows.I believe this is where the tradition of staying awake all night on New Years came from. If you could stay awake all night on the longer night of the year you could do it anytime. Not just until midnight (they had no clocks to measure the hours at night) but staying awake until you could see the first rays of the sun over the hills. That you had trekked through the longest night. You had faced the worst the darkness could bring. And now you stood victorious in the morning light. If your fire was still burning when the morning came, you had proved to the demons of the night that you could outlast them.You may not want to think of it;I know it sounds appalling;But we must hold back the darknessOr death may come a callingIf we can hold back the darknessWith just a single candle lightWe will make it through the winterThere are greener times in sightIf we can hold back the winterIf we can keep a fire burningWe can make it through the coldSoon the sun will be returningIf we can hold back the coldWith a fire warm and brightWe can celebrate the snowOn winter's longest nightIf we can hold back the snowAnd the storms that rage outsideThe days start getting longerThe darkness will subsideIf we can hold back the darknessFace all the things we fearWe can make it through the winterSpring is almost here

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6/24/2009 2:45:35 PM: It was exactly one year ago today that I wore my Mistress's collar of intent for the first time.  Our relationship had started online and progressed to nightly phone calls, often lasting 3 hours, sometimes talking until the dawn's early light.  Due to the fact that we lived more than a thousand miles apart we had not yet met face to face, but it was already decided that as soon as I had finished all my obligations I would be going to live with her in the fall.  A trial visit was planned for July but we felt that was just a formallity.  I had been attending a local bdsm discussion group and the Domme who ran that group invited me to my first ever bdsm party.  I discussed this with my Mistress on the phone and she was excited for me.  She had always encouraged me to go to the group and talk with people in the lifestyle to learn as much as I could and get many different view points.  I did not want to be presumptious but nervously asked her if I could wear a collar in her name and she agreed it would be a good idea.  Since I would be alone at the party I wanted it to be clear to the dominants there that I was already spoken for.  So there was no great collaring ceremony, not even Mistress's hand to fasten the buckle.  I bought the supplies and talked with Mistress on the phone as I fashioned a simple leather pet collar.  A gold tag engraved, 'reserved for Mistress (xxxx)' hangs from a metal loop.  
My job prevented me from wearing the collar 24/7, and quite honestly I was very nervouse about wearing a collar in public.  As Mistress instructed I did wear it anytime I could do so without creating a scene.  While I waited for the day I could be with her I fell asleep each night stroking the tag, feeling the shape of the engraved letters that declared I would belong to her.
The year since then has not been exactly as we had planned.  We have adjust the plan, adapted, and carry on.  Through it our relationship has grown strong.  Trust has blossomed as the experiences have proven to each of us that we can rely on the other.  I keep her house clean and prepare her food.  She gives me new experiences and keeps me safe.  She is healthier, happier, and less stressed since I arrived.  She has given me a secure place to explore who I truely am.  
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5/21/2009 6:56:34 AM: I wrote this on Memorial Day, 2001, in reflection of my father. I was never close to him and he never told us what happened to him during his service in France during WWII.  Piecing together fragments and clues about him this is what I understand.
For a Noble Cause Think of what veterans did. Not as a group but as individuals. They were your neighbors, sons, brothers, cousins, uncles, husbands and fathers. They were bus drivers, bakers, store clerks, farmers, accountants and carpenters. They volunteered or reported as ordered when the call came. They were given equipment and taught to fight. They were prepared in body, but no one helped to prepare their minds. They were men. They were just told to 'be tough'. They were made into soldiers and sailors. They were sent to places around the world, sometimes to countries they'd never heard of. They were told our cause was just and good, and that this was reason to kill. They were told to kill and to keep killing, until there was no one left to shoot back. They were told to keep fighting, while they watched the men they ate and slept with die around them. They saw hundreds, maybe thousands of dead bodies. They saw things most of us can't imagine, and would try not to think about if we could. They were normal men sent to do terrible things 'for a noble cause'. Decades later, many of them still cannot talk about what they did or saw. Most of us, really don't want to know. 
 
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3/23/2009 8:53:50 PM: Happy Halfiversary Mistress!Today marks six months since I arrived in New York to live with my Mistress.  Not everything has gone as we had originaly planned it but it has been a wonderful experience.  Mistress has taught me much and trained me in tasks that bring her pleasure.  She has not tried to change who I am.  She just allows me to be myself.  I have never felt so completely accepted, or so deeply loved.
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3/17/2009 2:44:18 PM: I'm sure most people into bdsm would consider me a wimp.  I can't take fifty lashes from a whip or being paddled until it raises welts.  I am not a pain slut and I highly doubt I ever will be.  Because my Mistress does enjoy administering pain I endure it as best I can for her entertainment.  She is generous with her praises and that does much to encourage me.  It is always a dilemma for me.  I do not enjoy pain at all.  For me it is in no way pleasurable or erotic (I know for others it is, just not for me).  Physically I want it to be over, I want to escape the pain.  Emotionally, it pains me that I might disappoint my Mistress.  I feel selfish not allowing her to play as long as she would like.  I should be able to handle it longer so she can fully enjoy her game.  This is the internal argument that continued through my head this evening.
Mistress began by blindfolding me.  She then drew lines on my back dividing into sections so as not to overwork any one area.  She is trying to train my boypussy, conditioning me so she can fuck me with her strap-on.  Technically I'm not a virgin in that respect.  Twice in my life I've been fucked, both times by the same man and the last was more than five years ago.  I've always been pretty nervous about anyone playing with my ass, even inserting a finger.  She inserted a butt plug.  Then she directed me to stand in the archway.  The first butt plug slipped out so she got a larger one.  Telling me to keep my legs together and how to clench to hold it in place.  She threatened to use a much larger one if I couldn't hold onto it.  It was a very weird feeling, trying to hold something in rather than trying to push it out.  She fastened leather restraints to my wrists and attached each to an eye bolt in opposite sides of opening.  'Remember your safe words', she prompted me as she does before every session.  We use the red, yellow, green system because it is easiest to remember.  There is also a panic word that will instantly end the session.  
She worked mostly with her favorite flogger, although sometimes setting it aside for a leather slapper.  I felt off balance since I had to keep my legs together.  I would have fallen forward if the wrist restraints weren't holding me up.  With each lashing to my back I swayed in the ropes.  With each session she uses a bit more force.  With each session I try to hold on longer, to use 'yellow' less.  Generally I use yellow to tell her that I can't take another blow to the same spot but I'm not asking her to stop.  She does give me a break, maybe ten seconds to catch my breath, and she continues the flogging in a different section of the grid she drew on my back.  She keeps reminding me to breathe because I do tend to forget during the beatings.  Seriously, if she does not remind me between blows that without thinking I hold my breath anticipating each one.  In between my breathing is very shallow.  This continues until I become so light headed I have trouble standing.  I have to remember to breath because she will end the session when she realizes I am doing that.  
She only uses the slapper on my ass and legs.  Each blow makes me jump and it is very hard to keep my legs together and hold the plug in.  I'm thankful for the restraints; I would not be able to stay standing in place without them.  She tells me that every time I scream it makes her pussy wetter.
Finally Mistress tells me to release the butt plug.  I felt certain I had pissed on the floor when I let it go but she said I hadn't.  She reached around me and put the leather slapper in my mouth and told me to bite down on it.  Now there would be no words, the only signal I had was to drop the slapper.  That would be like calling 'red' and she would stop, but there would be no yellow.  She had done this before.  It was a greater discipline when all I could do was stop the scene but not communicate anything else.  She was already praising me, telling me she was pleased with how much I had taken for her.  Still I did not want to make it stop.  I had nothing for a real sense of time but I know I can never endure as long a session as she would like.  I know from the tones of her voice that she is pleased with me.  Even blindfolded I can hear her smile.  She says she appreciates my pain all the more because she knows I do it only for her.  The lashes on my back come harder now.  Mistress reads me well.  With repeated lashes she somehow seems to know when I am about to drop the slapper and she moves to a different section of my back.  Then a hard strike across my right shoulder blade.  A second.  I bite hard into the leather slapper.  A third strike to the same spot.  I try to hold on but I can hear the movement as she draws back for another strike.  I spit out the slapper and somehow the blow never comes.  Mistress saw it fall and somehow stopped in mid-swing so the stinging tails never touched my skin.  
She stands behind me.  I tell her I feel like I could black out.  She tells me to lean back into her as she reaches around me to untie the ropes.  The leather wrist restraints remain on.  She keeps her arms around me and guides me to lie down on the bed, telling me to breathe.  Lying on my side I feel my hands tingling.  I didn't realize that I had been depending so much on the restraints to hold me up.  While the leather cuffs slipped loosely around my wrists I had been putting so much weight on them that I was not getting much circulation to my hands.  It was like when your foot falls asleep, feeling that tingling in all my fingers.  She stands beside the bed stroking me, speaking in soothing tones.  She questions me to be sure I am coherent an unharmed.  Still she does not remove the blindfold or the cuffs.  That's okay.  I could not have taken another blow on my right shoulder, but I still do not want to make her stop.
After a few minutes she has me on the bed with my butt in the air.  Checking again that I remember my safe words she brushes the back of my legs with the leather slapper.  She touches four spots and tells me now it will be two blows to each spot.  I can still use yellow and red if I can't handle all eight blows, but knowing how many and being able to count down makes it easier.  I am so glad she told me only two to each spot.  After the second blow to my right ass cheek I would have called 'red' if I thought she might strike the same place again.  Instead she moves down to the left thigh.  Ever blow stings, but knowing it is almost over I clench my teeth and remain quiet.  'Good boy', she coos as she lightly strokes my burning ass with her fingers.  
She has me turn over, holding my legs up.  Again touching my thighs with the slapper.  Two blows to each spot.  It stings but is over quickly.  She delights at seeing the impressions left on my legs.  The outlines, perfect squares, will remain crisp and visible until after we are both asleep.
She removes the blindfold and I relax.  She lies with me, telling me she is impressed with how much I took for her.  She continues to tease me with the slapper but I know she will not strike without warning.  She is into cbt but that has remained a limit for me.  She has seen that even playful little slaps to my balls make me curl up.  Each time we play I want to give her a little more.  With much coaxing I very nervously agree to let her try.  One slap to my balls feels like more than I can take, even though I know she did is as lightly as possible.  I whimper and roll on my side.  Even in such pain, I want to please Mistress.  How can I say 'no' when she asks if she can deliver a couple light blows with the leather slapper directly to my cock?  I know she could not do it any lighter, but with each blow I wince and whimper in pain.  She pets me and her voice dances in delight.  She is so wet I can smell her pussy juice.  The pain is intense but seeing how it pleases Mistress I agree to let her do it again.  After the second strike I curl up with my knees to my chest.  She strokes my hip as I catch my breath.  Her smile is precious.  Her eyes sparkle.  As she unfolds me I bite my lips and nod, yes, one last time.  She assures me that will be all for tonight.
She holds me strokes me.  Telling me how proud she is of her 'sweet boi'.  We take a break.  I refill her water bottle.  Bathroom.  Clean up the lube leaking from my ass.  When I return she is lying on the bed.  She has had quite a good work out herself.  She is tired, but glowing.  I get on the bed with her.  She praises me again.  How proud she is that I took more than she expected.  How hot and wet it got her.  She had not completely cooled off.  Just a couple minutes talking about it has her fully fired again.  She opens her legs and gives me an inviting, and at the same time demanding, grin.  Not that this is something I would turn down.  Originally eating her pussy was supposed to be a reward anyway.  It is hard to tell which of us enjoys this more.  She always tells me how good I am at licking her.  I've always felt that the real talent is just listening.  You should be able to tell which things make your partner more excited and which things are just 'nice'.  She is already very hot so it does not take long to bring her to screaming.  She clutches my hand and squeezes as she keeps saying 'good boy!  good boy!  just like that!'.  As she squirms my hand slips a bit from her grip.  During the flogging I was never scared.  I knew she would not harm me.  At that moment I feared a real injury.  The way she was gripping my hand I started to question if she might break my finger without even being aware of what she was doing.  Still I can't stop, not with her so close.  I admit, this is my power trip.  I love knowing I can do something that makes her completely loose control of her own body.  This is how I make her scream and I love every single note.  She falls back on the bed panting.  My tongue continues to play very lightly over her clit.  It is not time to stop yet.  Just turning the heat down from a full boil to a gentle simmer.  Holding her there for a few moments and then slowly bringing her up again.  Another couple minutes and she is screaming again.  I use one of her favorite toys.  This one is bigger than the one I usually use on her and she cautions not too deep.  The more I play with her, the wetter she gets, and the more demanding she becomes.  Following her ques the huge dildo goes deeper and deeper.  She screams louder and louder.  I love knowing I can make her feel something so intense.  Finally she collapses out of breath.  I slowly remove her toy and she pulls me down on top of her, kissing me.  Mistress is happy with me.  I am fulfilled.
 
Post script:I started writing this last night, just a couple hours after our session.  Putting my thoughts into words is a slow process for me.  This journal entry took a couple hours.  While I sit here typing I feel the muscles in my back still sore from last night's play.  I keep shifting because my ass still burns if I put weight on the same are too long.  All will heal in time, but right now my muscles feel more sore than after moving day.