A week, a night, a gift - beaten, peed on, and treasured (7)

Digging through the debris on my kitchen counter the other day, I came across a slip of paper. It is a list of things to do on (or by) that Saturday morning, before leaving to join my Master.

Review
Pack
Nails
?Exercise?
Play w/kitties
Bills

Saturday
Shave
Hair
Leave by 2 or 2:30

GAS

Being me, I did not of course get to exercise as much as I had hoped, and certainly not that Saturday morning. And I didn't get to pack until Saturday, either. Probably just as well. I would have made myself crazy if I hadn't had tasks with which to fill the time before I left.

I did have tasks, very specific ones, and plenty more once I got to the room. In fact, that first item in the list, "Review", meant reviewing the list of instructions so I didn't mess up.

All week, with the growing list of instructions and the intense inspirational and manipulative pieces, I was in a place that was not quite of this world. Certainly not quite in my normal world. I was in that beautiful place where anything outside of my existence as my Master's treasured poet and pet was purely an illusion. My task for Saturday morning would send me even deeper.

Before your trip, shave my pussy very carefully. Be mindful throughout of the ritual of offering that procedure signifies.

The ritual of offering.

My pussy belongs to him.

So I filled the tub, to soak and soften the skin and hairs.
I put a new blade in the razor.
I had shaving cream ready.
And afterward, I would wash my hair.
I was preparing myself for service.

I can feel myself slipping back into that place merely from describing the preparations. And all went as it was meant to go. Except for one small problem.

The tub didn't want to drain.

I soaked my cunt and stood up to shave and tried to drain the tub before washing my hair in the shower. But the drain had been slow for the previous 2 days and now would hardly drain at all. So I stood there with water sloshing around my calves and washed my hair and cleansed my body with gently scented goat's milk soap, and put away the awareness that here was another expense I couldn't afford to deal with. I would return to practicalities on the Monday. On this day, that life didn't exist.

Except, of course, it did. And kept trying to intrude. As I was nearly ready to leave the house, M-- called, kindly inviting me to play music with her. At any other time, I would have been delighted. But instead, I sounded stressed out. Which I suddenly was. I said I was on my way out, leaving right then to meet a friend... more or less true. But I am convinced she had the urge to call right at that time because she picked up that something was up, even though she couldn't clearly hear my thoughts. Or maybe it's that she couldn't interpret them. They made no sense in context of the friend she thought she knew.

Despite the world's attempts to sabotage my plans, I left by 2:30 pm.
Despite the world's attempts to sabotage my plans, I was calm and focused.

It was hot and sunny and the car was filled with gas and my hair was clean and abundant and my legs and pussy were smooth and hairless and the cooler was filled with water and cheap champagne and on the seat beside me were driving directions and contact instructions plus very precise specifications as to how to prepare the room for his arrival.

You may go as early as you like, but arrive no later than 7:30.

Have the room and yourself prepared by 8 pm.

Once you enter the room and do not anticipate going back out (to get ice, for instance) strip naked before preparing the room to my specifications. TEXT me at that point. That is, as soon as you are naked, but before prepping the space.

I will sleep in the bed nearest the bathroom. You are to turn down the left ( standing at the foot, facing the bed) side only, forming a triangle with the pulled back sheet. Locate any extra pillows and blankets in the room's closets and drawers. All pillows (including any on the other bed) are to be placed on mine, at the head, but not on the turned-down side. Any extra blankets are to be placed at the foot of the other bed.

At that point I wrote:

I was going to reply "Do you have any idea, my Lord, how these precise instructions make me feel?"
But that would be redundant. Because of course you know, my Lord. You know exactly how they make me feel.

And he replied:

Of course I know the effect my detailed instructions have on you. I also know how that effect will be increased when you, stripped bare, carefully carry out each task, making sure every minute detail is completed to my exact specifications. So, to continue..

Bring (or obtain there) two bottles of water for me, plus whatever you will need. Place one of the water bottles so it is easily accessible from either bed.

You may go out to eat as long as you are back at the room by the time I gave you earlier. Pay for anything you eat ONLY with money I have given you.

Once you have returned to the room you will immediately strip, placing all clothing in whatever travel bag you brought, zipping/fastening/closing it as completely as possible before placing it in the most inaccessable space the room has to offer, i.e. the top shelf of the closet, a bottom bureau drawer, under the desk chair. If a space exists which would require the use of a chair to to stand on for access, use that, then place the chair as far from it as possible.

You may bring your laptop, and/or writing materials, to use exclusively for work for my benefit, and specifically for that night. You may not watch TV.

oh...

yes, Sir.

I am feeling very vulnerable, my Lord.

I'm sure you are aware that was my intention, my pet, as I am also sure that when you are actually in that room, alone, naked, unable to quickly cover your nakedness, far from home, waiting anxiously (in the worst sense of the word) for an undetermined time at which a sadist (who has never hidden, in fact recently reiterated, that he wants to torture you) will enter to do who-knows-what to you, that feeling of vulnerability will, to my remote enjoyment, increase exponentially.

Yes, my Master.
I do know that was your intention.

And yet, as I read your message and went to that place, I recognized and reached out to what you were doing to me.

This is what I am, my Lord.
This is what I have yearned for.
This is how I was meant to be.

Confined.
Isolated.
Naked.
With no thought,
no purpose,
no existence,
but being yours,
serving you,
yielding to you.

I have no choice, my Master.
I never had a choice.

I belong to you as surely as if it were stamped on my birth certificate.
And despite my fears, I accept my fate with joy.

Continuing the room preparations:

Prepare the shower in case I want that as soon as I arrive. So, soap and shampoo unwrapped and placed, mat positioned.

As for lighting, since I will have been in the sun all day and then plunged into the grotto-like darkness of a bar, have the room light very low but not dark. I want to be able to see... everything.

Yes, Sir. The room preparations... These instructions always have a profound effect on me.

You want to see... everything.
All those handy little items arrayed for your use.

Tiny soap.
Tiny shampoo.
Bottles of water to sate your thirst.
And a little whore - to sate a different thirst.

A little whore...
with insistent nipples,
rounded belly,
bruised buttocks,
and a pussy as hot and moist as the shower.

You will see it all...
the vulnerability in her eyes
the blush of her spanked ass
the beckoning lips dangling between her thighs
the tears that teeter as you torture her nipples
and her bobbing head as she sucks your cock.

All are yours.
If you want them.


[More to come. If you have joined us in the middle, you might want to go back and read Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 and Part 6.]