Archive for the ‘Journaling’ Category

Vienna

Tuesday, November 19th, 2019

Back to the first stop of the trip, Vienna. The city is as beautiful as it is functional and it may the last of its kind. You have to go see it now because as I've learned from travel...hardly anything stands the test of time and its mostly just a question of when.

The Spanish Riding School1

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Two old women were gabbin the whole time we were watching the show. One pulls out an apple from her purse and starts chomping on it in front of the horses, so rude. What's next she takes out some sugar cubes and starts licking them?

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Schönbrunn Palace

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A storefront mouse workin' his storefront.

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Belvedere Museum

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I have a much greater appreciation for these tools after transcribing the Philosophical Transactions. Give it a read and you'll see what I mean.

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The Albertina

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I took the train from Vienna to Linz by myself for an infraction that I won't repeat the details of again. I will say though that the train ride was unenjoyable, desperate, and lonely. Not eating for a few days and then running through the train station while random thoughts fill your head with panic and a feeling of uncontrollable loss is a recipe for passing out. All of that being said, the next week was still much more challenging to get through. I was consumed in sadness and failed to take any other pictures besides this one of the platform. My time in Vienna came to an abrupt stop which is also another reason to avoid wasting time and missing out on a city that may never be as great as it is now.2

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  1. You're not actually allowed to take pictures inside. I got caught and cut off so please enjoy! []
  2. A woman in the same car as I was wearing a ball gown length shinny emerald dress with a fur shrug, a hat to match the outfit, and a gladstone bag. She was the perfect character to accompany a person on the train. I was afraid that when my stop was called that I would be stepping onto the platform of 1800's Linz. Regretfully, I did not get a picture of her but I am sure she's somewhere in the world escaping from danger with just enough time. []

Frankfurt-Linz

Thursday, November 14th, 2019

So, after Linz but before Brno/Prague we visited Frankfurt. This was a rather sad trip for me. The city itself is so dirty and filled with garbage that you would think the people who live there actually despise it. I stopped keeping track of the amount of rats and we never found aworththemention place to eat or have coffee. The hottest nightlife spot consisted of teenagers drinking bottles of wine outside the city center while blasting US rap. I'd rather live in Timisoara (and that's saying something because I'd rather be in Highland than in Timisoara) and am thankful that we only stayed the amount of time we did. That being said, I only took two pictures:

This is a view from our hotel room as the sunset.

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A niche shop filled with so many different kinds of brushes.

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Munich similarly let us down and so we skipped Berlin all together. It's a sad thing when a place decays past the point of it's historical value.

Though the thing I won't ever forget about Frankfurt is the first meal we had there. I was a few days off of the harshest sentence I've gotten thus far and listened to some powerful, shocking, true, and heartbreaking things at that meal. I'll continue to reflect on what was said and let it be known that the lesson is not lost on me. However, the shattered feeling of pain still sits with me like a familiar friend on the edge of my bed. Speaking of old friends, I have to say that I am grateful for the man who talked me away from being consumed by anger and despair during this time - thirteen years of consistent, unyielding, vulnerable, love, and honest friendship.

Anyways, on to the small Austrian city of Linz.

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View from the top of the Pöstlingberg.1

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It's an incredible thing to feel so small while standing on top of the world. The trees in Europe during fall are absolutely beautiful and I missed the season while in Costa Rica.

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Gnome house and the first hint that we should have hit the dirt and gotten out of there.

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Because gnomes are fucking evil. The little bastards took over the forests and imprison all of the bears. Look how creepily they build things.

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Clearly they also force the bears do drugs and have cubs so that they can put them to work being stung by bees and harvesting honey. Poor bear is stuck in a tiny cage.

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And the tiger is so desperate to escape from the evil enslavement and propaganda machine that the gnomes built a city from.2

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Definitely poison.

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A city filled with death, destruction, and enslavement of forest animals. Never trust a gnome.

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  1. Look up the Johnstown Inclined Plane sometime. []
  2. Walking through this story time village felt like I was in game of Rampage. []

Why everyone hates fetlife

Tuesday, November 12th, 2019

I'm cleaning out my fetlife inbox of over forty unread messages and why suffer alone? Enjoy a snapshot of my inbox or why everyone hates fucklife. Unfortunately, I haven't found a better website for connecting kinky people so I guess its a necessary evil.

27 Undecided 2d
hello dear, i saw you in the news.
are you still in timisoara?
we are a couple interested in your lifestyle and would like to meet you for a glass of wine if thats something you wish to do.
kisses.
Remus and Alina

Shit, I'm in the news. I can't be seen with you drinking wine.

59M Fetishist 5d
Miss Yes_pleaase,
Firstly and foremost I have to thank you for having accepted my friend request! :)
I had a glimpse all over your pics and I found them so attractive and interesting mostly for a 26 yr old girl..(it seems you maintain quite a sort of a teenage 'aura'..appearance) I would like to have a sort of correspondence with you, if possible.
(..btw sorry for some questions here: I was wondering, perhaps, despite the fact that you claim to be a slave, if would you like to be interested in the same way about findom/femdom activity? Could you using KIK for that purpose?)

Thanks in advance for any info you will furnish to me.
Regards

E.

https://fetlife.com/groups/66300
https://fetlife.com/groups/114213

Lol dude called me a 26 year old girl... but what's even more annoying is that he thinks his thoughts matter enough to write down that I 'claim' to be a slave. Oh, the links are to groups that explain what financial domination is because finding a woman to pay money to is so hard he has to seek out ones who durr can't understand the concept.

23M Dom 1w
damn hey little, just found you on here. I am new to bratislava however a dom from austria looking for some useful girls. text me !

I know what you are going to ask and no I can't lift heavy things!

38M Top 1w
Hello, interesting Slave girl is that you on this profile pic cause you look really cute and it seems you could benefit from a solid but strict guidance.....am i right or wrong.....i hope i m right.
Also it looks like you are very serious about being a part of this lifestyle and want to go further with you and your company?

What an odd & neurotic message.

28M Bull 2w
Hello! So lets go party tonight,im from portugal and i live here, and i have few girls that arw able to join too

Portugal and a few girls. Sold offer.

23M Switch 2w
are u coming in albania

Actually I do squirt across countries.

32M Switch 3w
Hello, it seems that you are in Prague now so Im thinking - would your master be interested in you being watched when you are dominated? Because that could be a lot of fun and since you are not staying here for a long time... Let me know
Peter

32M Primal 7w
Hey there you and a friend wan to go out tonight? Aka 6-8hours from now, lol

Not funny & I heard there are a few girls in Portugal(s).

26M Switch 13w
Hi, would you like to kick a man's balls ? :)

This is one of a dozen requests and all are just as annoying.

24M Dom 15w
How many cocks have you fucked?

At least he skipped over the 'where are you from'.

57M Master 37w
Hi,

Thanks for accepting my friendship!

If you feel I can be of assistance, just PM me.

Master, slave and pet Trainer

He listed his credentials so if anyone's interested, please do let me know!...


Twenty-nine unopened messages and I give up. Fetlife seems to be the loser lunch table of all social media composed of socially awkward people and financial 'dommes' ready to take advantage of them. Coincidentally this describes the munches and parties we've been to with the exception of Warsaw, Vienna, and Prague.

VooDoo club in Warsaw had a gothic themed play space and huge party attendance. The space to play was lacking because of the amount of people attending; however, I had a blasty blast smoking weed outside with transsexuals (who hid their joints in broken bricks outside) and women donning strapons. The venue was also shared with middle schoolers who were attending a k-pop concert so conversation in the bathroom was not lacking.

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Here I am outside of VooDoo wearing a dress from Romania, ballgag from Argentina, handcuffs from Costa Rica, cat mask from Kiev, and a purse from Minsk. If you read this blog then you know I can't make this shit up.

Vienna had the first casual BDSM cafe and bar that I have ever encountered (named SMart cafe and No Limits bar respectively). The people watching me getting my ass beat were all very pleasant and understood boundaries of scenes which made them a pleasure to spend an evening with. If they were annoying you wouldn't have been able to tell.

Prague is an honorable mention because of how massive the play space is. The party we attended was huge (literally) but not one person was worth talking to, which has never happened before - no matter how lame the party. They have a serious bdsm shop and mini dungeons composed of a working wheel, cages, stocks..etc..that will forever be worth the mention to me.

In the end, it breaks my heart that fetlife is dead and truthfully I want to be wrong. After all, it is the website that I met my Master on and a few other people I care about. So, if I am wrong and missing the party somewhere please let me know because it sure as hell isin't in my inbox.

Prague

Monday, November 11th, 2019

Have you ever visited a new country only for a few days with the intention of 'trying it out to see if it's worth coming back to'? I hadn't either until Prague. Our plans changed significantly1, as plans tend to do, and we landed in Brno2 for a night without a clear idea of which city (or country for that matter) would be next. Let's say we drew straws and la fortuna was with Prague.

& Prague fucking delivered! We spent the first day finding out what the city is all about. Trust that my pictures don't do justice to the beauty of the buildings that line even the 'New Town' in Prague.3

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I'll be back for you.

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annd for you.

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We hit up the town at night to chat up girls and I had a lot of fun. Let's do some bimbo highlights!

- When asking a girl where the good bars/clubs are, she blurted out a word in Czech and then followed up with - 'just search for the long street' you'll find it. Bitch, we searched long street and it took us through three continents. If you're curious I had her write it down and the street she was referring to is actually called Dlouhá.

- Jamaican club promoters entice girls into their clubs by encouraging them to, "don't be shy move your body!" And you know it worked as a few girls shrugged their shoulders and followed them. Note to self: get a sheep dog.

- We found a pair of Russian girls outside of a rock club. One girl whose name I can't remember and another girl named Stella. Noname promised to take the three of us to a Canadian party hosted by some people from her college. In the end it was only a club with around ten people in it so we bailed, but not before noname had a drunk girl breakdown. Wherein she rapped Cardi B (Never imagine id hear a Russian girl rap Cardi in Prague. While you were say you did.), chastised Stella for not fucking more girls, and then begged her to sleep over....We drove Stella home and had some fun telling her about the thrills of slavelife.

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Back in time for the strip club.4

Europe has really severely disappointed me with their strip clubs...surcharges for girls, pasties, couches on the stage..etc. That being said, Prague has a club called Darling Cabaret that was deemed worth a try. I'm on strict orders to not scuff these boots until July so naturally we walked from the wine bar (where we met up with the aforementioned Stella) to the club. The club was alright, as in the music was somewhat better and the girls were actually using the pole. We were too indecent for the STRIP CLUB staff though as the hosts got bitchy about the lack of underwear. The girls who work at Hooters in Costa Rica have a way better attitude and understanding of how to have a good time. Needless to say, it's rather unpleasant to be surrounded by sulking girls who are bitterly policing each other for the wrong reasons. In the end, and as usual the club itself was boring and the party came and left with us.

Do you see what I mean though? The hotel lobby suddenly becomes a much better party then the premiere night club.

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I took the shot above at around 6AM on my way to extract Florimund from his own adventure. It's always nice to walk in a city as the sun rises. This also brings to end our first trip to Prague as we spent a few days in Budapest before returning. The remaining pictures are from the second week long trip.

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I was running errands and ended up at the nail salon, wherein I asked the man working if he could do letters and he said he indeed can within the time frame that I needed to meet Hannah. Great. I wrote on a piece of paper the words JUICY BIMBO. The more times he repeated juicy bimbo the more humiliating the situation became and the louder I agreed. The other woman working in the salon asked if I was getting the design done for Halloween, maybe? Nope, just another day I told her- honestly smiling as hard as I could. It was a tiny salon and only the three of us. I spent the majority of the time watching the clock before another girl walked in. She sat down next to me and the other woman started working on her, but first the girl argued with her with comments like, "I can't get that nude my friends will make fun of me, why I can't I do something longer, no my friends not coming she's asleep, are these really the only nudes you have..." The bitchier she got the more I wanted her to catch on to what was going on with me. Someone called her and when I heard "Ce faci" I couldn't wait. Finally the man working on my nails again spelled out loud juicy bimbo and I felt the girl freeze. Until I was done in another thirty minutes she said absolutely nothing and barely moved. Finally when my sparkly pink nails were finished she then asked if she could take a picture and could barely mumble answers to the questions I asked in an attempt to make conversation (Interesting she had no problem asking for a picture but actual conversation was out of the question.) Before she finished answering I said OK great and picked up my one stripper shoe5 and was on my way just in time to meet Hannah for coffee and cake.

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Andd back as promised for the sweet sweet edibles. Prague has a market of mushrooms, edibles, weed,..etc. sold at convenience stores around the city. Pretty cool in theory but the cookies and gummies we got were extremely weak. I imagine as with most things drug related its about who you know.

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On to the National Museum....

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Upper floor, anyone?

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A log cabin made by a goose.

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I think they are trying to tell us something.... Most museums will have large signs to direct you towards their display pieces but not in Prague. The museum is so empty that all is needed is a small sign that sort of somewhat looks like what could be displayed - you really can't miss it.

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  1. More on the Germany debacle later - we're going back in time here on bimbo club. []
  2. For my Indiana readers, Brno is a city in the Czech Republic. []
  3. I'll refer you to Trilema for that. []
  4. Master also graced me with these beautiful red boots. To think that I used to go into work everyday and sarcastically tell people I was living the dream. prague-522 []
  5. I broke my pleasers while in Kiev and needed to get them fixed before returning to Romania. Simply because getting this done in Romania would have taken a week of research and two days wasted of negotiating with people who do not want to work. In Prague I dropped off the shoe and it was done the very next day. []

brown eyes

Wednesday, November 6th, 2019

I wake up and don't know what I'm doing here.
Where am I and why?

I want to go but I can't. Frozen against the sheets, I stare at the window to the world outside. Can I go? It's not the same world, I'm different now.

Did I do everything I could have? What do I do with whats left? Theirs nothing to make new again. It's just me and the cold winds.

No one to help me stand up again. I left and all is gone.

Whose left to blame? You made me. Is this what I wanted after all?

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Please don't forget me & I won't you. Please hear what's left in my dreams - I miss you and am no longer afraid to need you.
I don't want to go - please do I have to?

Apples

Wednesday, October 30th, 2019

Bring me an apple he commanded the slave girl. She glanced at him in bed before she walked out of the room, he was laying in a bed covered with white sheets while wearing a white robe. It was fitting foreshadowing. She walked to the kitchenette, the lights got more intense, and her thoughts flooded with things like "pick the right apple, you can't pick an apple, you are about to get in trouble, do you see the bathroom, remember the last words he said because who knows in how many days until you hear his voice" and she pushed those thoughts away...telling herself like so many other times that she needs to be positive. How can picking a fruit end so poorly? Re-focusing on fetching an apple, she picked the most red one and washed it. Bringing it back to him with a smile and an air of hope. Then his face dropped and she knew. He spit out the apple and told her it was garbage. All she had to do was get some apples and she wasted more of his money. The disgusting red apple mocked her with it's shine against his white robe. The girl brought him another apple and although passable enough to take a bite of, he eventually proclaimed he wouldn't eat it. The slave was reminded by him of how little he's found apples he liked and she brought him terrible ones from the same store as the good ones.

Eventually and unsurprisingly everyone else moved on. She wished he would just beat her, choke her, kill her...something to allow her move on from the pain of ruining his apples. It's terribly numbing to always feel like your Master hates you. It's a terrible thing to be a bad apple.

1000 words a day.

Wednesday, October 30th, 2019

This morning started like none other because no day is really that similar to the one before. I had been sleeping and dreaming of all sorts of weird things - missed final exams, a boarder check composed of only dogs, and me desperate to find the gelape. Sleep abruptly came to a stop (which caused me to wake up heart racing and desperate for air) when I heard the sound of Master's slippers flip flopping in the hallway. These days my brain takes a good minute to reconstruct reality from the dream interweb it created of my past lives and current fears. I escape into Master's room and the next fifteen minutes is spent in a joyous morning reunion. It's now late October in Budapest and the weather has just turned - making the time spent giggling and cuddling under the blankets all the better.

The topic of what I secretly refer to as the 'doin it adventure' or more publicly known as the Harem's Grand European Tour 2019 came up as a point of discussion.1 So many different things have happened in the last month of travel and so much is left to document. But for now, lets happily recount the last few days.

We left Prague on Monday the 28th of October at around 11AM for Budapest and with a tentative plan to visit Bratislava after Buttapest. Us leaving includes no less than three suitcases, six bags, and five coats. You can do the imagining of how many laptops, cameras, cords, cases...etc. go with that amount of luggage. A few hours into the drive the plan changed and now the harem is instead making a derailment to Vienna! We've been all over Europe by now and only one place has managed to make the steaks exactly correct. Why not have a steak stop in Vienna?2 After dinner some tasks ensue3 and we make it to the hotel in Budapest by 840PM. Did you follow all of that? Three countries in one day isin't so bad. The rest of the evening is spent performing militaresque unpacking, glove searching, and then rum - lot's of wonderfully spiced rum and coffee.

Yesterday, Wednesday October 30th, morning was spent with the intricacies of driving to breakfast and finding a parking spot in the over populated city. More parking garages please!4 After breakfast it was errands time, which included a stop at a few stores (one stop being to purchase Zubrowka cherry vodka, which until now we haven't been able to find outside of Poland.) and the local market. Such tasks brings us to the end of the day and thus in Budapest tradition - Kebabi time.5

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This retelling of the past few days has led us to this present moment. Tonight we pack and tomorrow we return to Romania. Despite the crying and cursing that has ensued over the last month (that we will necessarily get to later) I am sad that this portion of the trip is over. Fortunately for me, tomorrow I'll have another thousand words to reflect on my boring life. Until then I am off to buy a dozen apples and search for Hungarian vibrators. Oh you know...suck tasks. Wish me luck.

  1. Which also sparked a decree of me to write 1,000 words a day. Slavery isint conducive to free time, so as usual my first thoughts were filled with panic supported by reasons of how this won't be possible. If not curbed, these thoughts can become a slippery slope which leads right to the failure train. The only way to run out of time is to waste it. []
  2. It's a great place called the Porter House - across the street from the fantastic Goulash Museum which is next to De Capo Pizzeria. This is really the corner to come to if you are hungry without reservation in Vienna. []
  3. I was handling some phone business in a nearby mall. While living in the states, I never once physically went to a phone or internet providers location. Similar to a DMV you take a ticket and stand around until your number comes up. I take a ticket and breathe a little because I am number two in line. Still though, people love waiting in lines so to be sure I ask the guys ahead of me if I can switch. They decline my explanation of how I will be 10 minutes at the very most. Fine. Soon the fuck boys are called up (fuck boys as in how much pride they put in their 80 dollar sweatpants, the new fade, the shifty movements, and how much they lick their lips.) - apparently one got a new phone and its a big to do. I wait and fucking wait for this other dumble dick who has been camping at the register to move on. I get pissy and talk the guy into helping me and I am out of there. Still though, an unacceptable amount of time wasted. []
  4. You see my friends, I forgot Master's umbrella which necessarily meant that he needed to be dropped off at the door of what we'll call the breakfast palace. This caused me to drive past the one parking spot in a five block radius. From there the naive attempt was made to use a nearby parking garage with free spots! How lucky for a slave. Oh, but wait... this is a boat parking garage where a crane will pick up your car and carry it through a roller coaster of cars until it drops it on the right one. However, the dubious worker does guarantee (while laughing) that all you need to do in order to retrieve your car is: press the button while tugging on the rope only when the light is flashing and then turn the hanging wheel two turns to the left then four to the right. We would never leave Florimund in such a trap, but leaving also led us to crossing a bridge and further unpleasantness before finding a parking spot. []
  5. Hannah found the best place for kebabs and hummus in the city. Such a treat as Romania and Costa Rica has nothing like this. 1000words-14 This picture from the kebab place has been sentenced to the footnotes because of it's derpiness. []

Missed Connections

Friday, October 18th, 2019

I'm falling behind you, desperately gripping a phone in my hand while the cold wind beats against our faces. You start walking faster and I can't focus fast enough to understand where we are exactly on this strange city's map. The first wrong turn I direct makes my heart race and my head fill with self deprecating thoughts. Five minutes ago you were telling me to be less stressed and now your supposedly comforting words will haunt me for the rest of the night. By the second wrong turn I know I've done it and you confirm that this is the case. I'm instructed to wait on the other side of the bridge and maybe if you feel like it you will come back for me. My thoughts are coming so fast that I can't focus on any specific one. Bingo, I fucked up again by walking to the wrong side of the bridge and I hear your voice calling me a stupid cunt. It's at this point that I let go of any hope of salvaging the night through my service. It feels cooler out now, the sky is dark, and the wind is strong. The bridge is immense and watching you walk away feels permanent. Autumn nights usually feel lonely with people but this is something else. I spend some time debating if I should jump knowing how hopeless everyday feels. It's a complicated thing to have the ability to ruin someones day yet have no actual control in life. Therefore, I take my hate, anger, and sadness inwards gripping the bridge and mentally masturbate to how it would feel to not feel. I beg god to strike me down for being such a terrible person. I wonder how many slaves have found themselves where I am standing. Two wrong turns. We both know that I won't do it and I cease wasting energy on selfish thoughts. My mind reviews the night and the other times when I miss directed us. The chilling wind blows and a fox runs by - the first wild fox I've ever seen. I wish I could tell you about it, I wish I could tell you a lot of things.

The few minutes on the corner eventually turn to over an hour. Dressed for a fetish party I'm wearing a short tight black dress, lingerie, a cat mask, tail butt plug, and all under a light jacket. My feet hurt from being in serious heels all day, my face is covered in remorseful tears, and I'm so very cold. It's a real possibility that I will be here all night and my mind goes back and forth on if its appropriate to call and beg to be relieved. What I did is a serious offense that I would like to fix.1 Apologies don't count for very much in the life of a slave. What you do is how you will be judged and its a treat if your past good deeds make it in. Mind you this isin't a complaint, I spend every morning hoping that I will be able to spend the day successfully serving a Master whom I dedicated my life to and failure is, well failure. Eventually I make the call, between the tears and begging my words are hardly audible. Permission is granted for me to come back to the hotel. Although one step of the punishment is done, I know I've barely begun to suffer. The masochist part of me enjoys this thought while walking through the cold and rainy empty streets of Vienna. The other part of me toys with the idea of what a hug would be like.

Walking down the bridge towards the metro I notice a small shitty honda civic type car driving noticeably slow. The car passes me and eventually pulls over on the side of the road that I am walking on. It's parking lights come on. The obvious guess is that he thinks that I'm a prostitute by the tights and the butt plug sticking out from under my coat. At any rate, I've been a street walker for the last few hours. The man in the car makes sounds and gestures for me to come towards his now open car window. Picking up my pace I stare forward and focus on the metro which is 15 feet from me. Suddenly, I hear whistling and the car door opening. I feel the john's hands brush up against my arm when I start running. It wouldn't be a night that I fucked up if the universe didn't add insult to injury. If only I could trade flight or fight for being able to give directions without panicking.

On the metro platform I hold my head while tears run down my face. A girl comes to talk to me, happy and with so much energy she's practically jumping up and down. I notice her book bag, tennis shoes, warm coat, and map in her hand. She's smiling so wide her red lips almost touch her gold horseshoe earrings. First, she asks me if I'm okay and I stay silent but nod up and down to gesture yes. It'll be okay she says, the sun will rise again tomorrow. This thought makes me cry even harder. I'm envious of how naive she is to the reality of my world. Then she asks me for metro directions. Of course she would be lost asking me for directions here and in this exact moment of time. It's hard not to see the cruel humor in it all. I give her directions and she only runs off after asking me a few times if I'm sure I'll be okay. I wanted to tell her that I hope she'll be okay, I'm not exactly known for my preciseness.

The tears won't stop coming on the metro ride. My brain won't stop cycling regret and pain. Tonight was supposed to be so good and here I sit after fucking it up with a few words. Am I this bad of a person...does being a good or bad person even matter? Turmoil is not being able to make sense of the world. Part of what attracted me to leaving my old life behind was the hope that something would make sense now. I'm guilty of romanticizing BDSM and slavery in thinking that it would solve or fix some parts of me. Quite the opposite happened and faults become exposed. And once exposed, those faults are your reputation until god himself says otherwise.

Despite being overwhelmed with sadness I get off the train at the right stop and make my way down the stairs in order to make the last connection. The timer says 15 minutes until the train gets here so I find a seat on an empty bench to sob. A woman talking on her phone walks down the hallway dressed in traditional Austrian wear. A man sits to my left with large headphones on his head and a couple of four take a seat on my right to discuss their night at the museum. The man with the headphones takes them off of his head and asks me the question of the night. For some reason and in between long gaps of tears I tell him the truth that, no I'm not okay. He looks at me with such kind intelligent eyes and asks me if I'd like to talk about it. The train comes soon after the conversation starts and we continue talking until his stop. Before he gets off he gives me a long hug and tells me not to hesitate... Money can't buy genuine kindness from strangers.

I make it back to the hotel in time for a reunion. Of course you know by now what a joke that is. Punishment is almost always in the plural form. Now the hotel room is my cage and dog food is my dinner. I haven't seen my you in a few days and now have to travel alone to another part of the country where I 'may' be picked up.

  1. The fear of doing the wrong thing (like announcing the wrong direction) becomes a powerful uncontrolled thought in my head that manages to fuck me over again and again. The panic comes quickly and useless thoughts race so fast I lose control over myself. []

Landscape with the fall of Icarus.

Saturday, September 21st, 2019

landscapewiththefalloficarus4

Landscape with the Fall of Icarus is an illustration of the Greek myth that tells the story of the death of Daedalus's son Icarus.

Daedalus was a brilliant inventor who created a labyrinth to imprison the Minotaur for King Minos of Crete. The next part of the myth is unclear as stories vary. Some say that the two were imprisoned only after Daedalus told, Ariadne, the Princess of Crete the secret of how to escape the labyrinth. In other versions, they were imprisoned long before the route out of the labyrinth was revealed to Ariadne.

In either case, Ariadne passed on the secret of the labyrinth to Theseus and he was able to slay the Minotaur while navigating his way out of the labyrinth thereby enraging King Minos.

King Minos controlled all of the ships and the roads from Crete. Determined to escape with Icarus, Daedalus knew that the only way out of Crete was by using the wind.1 He used feathers from birds that would perch on the tower to craft two pairs of wings that were held together by string and wax. Daedalus instructed his son to not fly to close to the sun as it would melt his wings or to close to the sea for the water would soak his wings and cause him to drown. Daedalus and Icarus launched from the tower thus making a successful escape.

The pair flew high over Crete and passed the surrounding islands. Disregarding his father's warnings Icarus began soaring towards the heavens which melted the wax that held his wings together. Icarus cried out for help as he plummeted towards his death. The wings were dislodged from his body and the boy drowned at sea. Daedalus searched for his missing son and found his body by the feathers that were sprinkled over the ocean. Daedalus buried the body of his son and then named the island where he was buried Icaria.

Daedalus continued on flying and eventually landed in Sicily. It was there that he built a temple to the god Apollo. Daedalus left his wings in Apollo's temple and never flew again.


For years 'Landscape with the fall of Icarus' was credited to famous Pieter Bruegel the Elder, but after it was dispelled that he is in fact not the creator the painting now remains without an accredited artist. The work has been sourced to approximately 1558.

In the center of the painting you can see the plowman steering his plow. Below him on the cliff the Shepard is tending his flock while gazing into the distance. In the bottom right it looks as though the fisherman just cast a line into the water. Ships are sailing from the city's harbor. No one within the painting pays any mind to Icarus as he meets his death by drowning. That's because we're all not as important as we think we are. We make massive mistakes, we ruin relationships, and we die. Mistakes and missteps are eventually forgotten and we all move on towards the inevitable end of our life wherein we have to be accountable for only ourselves.

  1. Daedalus hated Crete
    And his long exile there, but the sea held him.
    “Though Minos blocks escape by land or water,”
    Daedalus said, “surely the sky is open,
    And that’s the way we’ll go. Minos’ dominion
    Does not include the air.” - Translation from Ovid's Metamorphoses []

The maid.

Saturday, August 24th, 2019

While sitting naked at the kitchen table in their hotel suite she shudders knowing that she heard him correctly.

"It's fine, the maid can come in."

She cast her eyes down at the plate on the table in front of her as a few second excuse to not make eye contact.

Quickly she succumbs to the fact that she wouldn't be allowed any clothes. Still, she searches for something to say that would save her some humiliation but also not land her in actual trouble. Punishment is heavy for attempts at negotiation and hardship is ideal to being in trouble.

Instantly, she becomes aware of the room's temperature and her body betrays her with gifts of hard nipples and goose bumps. She owns nothing in this world which includes her body, and her body will gladly help in her exposure for its Master. She has a lot of these 'out of body' experiences where her mind may hesitate, but she physically moves forward in the direction of what would be perceived as her opposite interest. In fact, the last time that this occurred was she was kicked out of the car in the rain forest and immediately walked into bushes of tropical nettle. For added humiliation, she often won't even realize that she's wet until her cunt is leaking down her legs. This time on the hotel chair is not any different or at all significant to the people in the room. Despite knowing this she is still visibly bothered but says nothing. Both time and experience have shown that this will be a fond memory, so why ruin it?

Even so... she loses her appetite and the salmon that looked so good a moment ago becomes cold. Master encourages her to eat and his other slave kindly offers to make her more comfortable by undressing too. Nudity is mandatory in her Master's home and she's been naked in front of a countless amount of people, both online and in person within multiple countries. Actually, when they met for the first time he had her remove her dress in the parking lot of the airport. So why did this time bother her so intensely? Her Master noticing her nerves asks her as much. After all, his pleasure is paramount and she is obeying the command. Conflicted and unable to come up with an answer she mumbles an 'I don't know'. On cue the maid turns on the vacuum and he laughs at the anxious slave girl jumping naked in her seat. Her shoulders hunch down in an attempt for her to look as small as she feels. Has clothing always connoted power and she just never cared?

He moves them out of the kitchen and into the bedroom. In doing so, she navigates around the maid and they make eye contact with one another. She blushes while noticing that the suite door is open, and therefore exposing her naked body to the rest of the hotel.

As instructed she gets into his bed on all fours with her face down-ass up. Flustered and sweating she listens to the characteristically calming sounds of him playing with his other girl and remembers her training to breath. She stays completely still in an effort to become dehumanized and solely an ass. He asks for the hairbrush and her stomach drops, now knowing that the maid's show is just starting. Indistinguishable cries resonate from the pillow matching the twitching protest her body is performing. The pain from the hairbrush is hard, abrupt, stingy, and lingers. He has been kind enough to beat her with an array of objects, and yet somehow this implement is one of the hardest to take. Panic intensifies due to her intense desire to perform well in front of housekeeping. One thump cracks down on her ass and she squirms buckling her knees in poor form. This is displeasing and he swings again, but harder which makes her scream out when the brush cracks against her skin. Racing inside she tries to lean into the pain and focus less on the sounds of the room being cleaned...then he hits her ass again. The ever desperate whining sounds leave her mouth in the form of 'pleases' and 'it hurts'. The intolerable noise she makes is met with a threat to have the maid take part in her beating if she continues.

What if the maid did help punish her? She would certainly deserve it. Maybe in the cleaning cart and underneath the stack of fresh towels there is a compartment with painful whipping elements to leave out in rooms. Necessarily if she were good at punishing bad girls then her Master would also want to sexually exploit the useful cleaning girl. Would the slave then have to finish cleaning the hotel rooms with a bruised ass while her Master has a threesome? She'd better clean the rooms naked and if it pleased him then shouldn't she beg for this arrangement for the rest of their stay?

A final hard blow breaks her stream of horny thoughts. By the time her ass is red and sore the cleaning is done and it's the three of them once again. The intensity of laying in his arms and looking into his eyes after a humiliating beating overwhelms her with adoration. After a moment of laying with him he sends her off to the store for groceries. Gleefully she walks out of the hotel room rubbing her tender ass and still in a daze. Looking up and down the long hallway she decides to use the stairwell...in order to avoid the maid.