Rumschpringe – One Month of Freedom

July 27th, 2010  / Author: !
4

Photo Credit: Logistics Monster
Around the age of sixteen, some Amish participate in what is called Rumschpringe.  It is a period in time in which they go out into the modern world and “rebel” in a sense, against the beliefs with which they grew up.  At the end of this period, the young Amish man or woman either chooses Baptism, or chooses to leave the community.  Often times, they choose to return to the church, rather than move away from the community.  The next 27 days will be my Rumschpringe.

I am going to give you the Reader’s Digest version of what has happened in the last few weeks.  Long story short, I told my parents about my kink and my relationship with Sir and Miss.  They reacted well, but are still very confused.  I have gone through and am still feeling a plethora of emotion.

Which leads to what I am writing about now…

After a few conversations, Sir and Miss decided that the best thing to do right now would be to give me a one month break from their control.  I need time to sort things out with my family, and reflect on the events of the past few weeks.  While the thought of freedom might seem nice to someone looking in from the outside, I am not so sure I like things like this.

I miss having their control, knowing that I was expected to follow certain rules, or ask permission for certain things.  I also have not seen them in over a month, and I really just miss being with them.  Oh, to be clear, this break does not mean I don’t get to talk to them, or perhaps even see them sometime.  It’s just a break from being under their control, so that I can get my vanilla life in order, and even perhaps recover from my mess of overwhelming emotions.

What happened with my parents made me question whether or not the kinky me is really who I am.  It blew the confidence I once had about who I am and what feels right.  I began to question whether or not things should be this way, or if I should just give it up, have a “normal” vanilla relationship and try to will the kinkiness away.  I know that deep down, this is who I am meant to be; the kinky, sometimes crazy young woman I am; but having even an inkling of doubt is starting to get to me.

So although it will be difficult, I have decided to start breaking rules.  In a sense, I need to rebel against the rules that were once enforced by Sir and Miss, to make sure that I like being controlled more than I like my freedom.  today, I managed to walk around at home for a few hours without wearing my collar.  Granted, I did slip it on eventually, and am wearing it right now, but I am just taking tiny baby steps.  It hurt me a little, but I think what I need, is to push past the habits I have gotten used to since Sir and Miss took control and try to revert back to how I lived before they controlled me.  I have a hunch that by the time this month is over, I will have re-confirmed my desire to be controlled by Sir and Miss.  I just need to prove to myself that being their pet is absolutely 100% what I want out of my life right now.

I think I just got lost in a bout of incoherent rambling.  I am feeling a tiny bit lost right now.  I have a whole lot of undefined emotion, and I don’t quite know what to do with it.  Back to the point, I am going to try to make the most out of this month, in order to figure out what I want out of life, and whether or not where I am is truly where I want to be.

!

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Posted in Growth, Kink in a Vanilla World, Sir and Miss | 4 Comments »

Seven Days, Five Orgasms

July 22nd, 2010  / Author: !
2

So I’m sitting and tying into this box for the first time in a while.  I have not died; I have just been quiet lately. Now that a decent amount of the recent events in my life have been sorted out, I am ready to write again.  To bring me out of my blogigng slum, I am going to write about a new weekly task that Sir and Miss have given me.  This started Last week (on Monday, July 12th) and has proven to be challenging to me.

Until further notice, I am to have five orgasms every week.  I am allowed to watch porn, read erotic literature, and use toys in my ass cunt.  I am also allowed to count orgasms that other people cause, as long as they do not use toys on my cunt or clitoris.  If I want more than five orgasms in a week, I have to ask for them.  I realise that that may not sound like much; but I am having trouble with it.  Perhaps it is because my mind has been muddled with overhanging clouds of emotional stress lately, or because I am just not used to cumming so much; but having these orgasms takes a lot of effort.  At the rate I am going though, it does not seem like I will need to ask for very many.

Most of the time, I do not even need porn any more, and I let my imagination run wild.  Other times, I turn to a story for a muse and then continue with my own fantasy.  It seems like there aren’t many stories that I like that I haven’t already read.  While I have gotten better at not needing outside stimulation (porn, stories, etc,) I have also noticed that my desire for an orgasm is not as prevalent as it used to be.

I do not know what happened to me.  A year ago, I used to have orgasms every night.  I used to have exactly one orgasm, right before going to bed; but as I grew, I started feeling less of a need for them.  Now, there are nights when all I want is sleep.  The drive, the urge for an orgasm does not hit me like it once used to.  Don’t get me wrong, my mind still very much lives in the gutter.  There are very few days that go by without me having a sexual thought; but when I am horny, I do not always feel like having an orgasm.  I sometimes just enjoy living in that horny frame of mind; constantly turning things around me that are not sex related into things that are.

I think, and I could be wrong, that part of the reason I no longer necessarily want an orgasm every night is because I have learned to live with my horniness.  I have accepted that I am a very sexual being, and I have learned to embrace the times when my mind will not come out of the gutter.  I think I have just gotten used to it.  I have gotten used to it, and I like it.

Point is, the amount of orgasms that I have in any given week has gone down, and this task is to bring it up again.  it is nice to be allowed to have my orgasms without always asking for them; especially when it is really early morning and I just cannot sleep.

I am grateful that Sir and Miss have given me this privilege, and will do my best to make sure I complete this task every week. I have already failed once.  The first week, I left one orgasm for myself on Sunday night.  When the time came for my body to cum, it just did not happen.  I tried to make myself cum in as many ways as I knew how until the clock struck twelve, and then I stopped.  I failed.  I do not plan on this happening again.

Five is a very doable number, and that I have no doubt that I will get used to it soon.  I have a slight fear that the number will increase before I am ready for it to; however, I am also always looking to grow and take on a new challenge.  For now though, I will just concentrate on the task at hand.

Two down, three to go.

!

Tags: , , ,

Posted in Sir and Miss, Training | 2 Comments »

Trapped; and Yet, So Free

June 25th, 2010  / Author: !
0

As promised, I have a new photo gallery for all of my lovely (and even my not-so-lovely) readers.  It focuses on the times in which I have been wrapped up, unable to move and sometimes unable to see, while thing have been done to me.  Miss actually wrote about this topic not so long ago, about how she sometimes encases her head in electrical tape, and the emotions she has from such an experience.

Two visits ago, Sir and Miss wrapped my head in plastic wrap and the electrical tape.  I think it was the first time I had ever experienced my head being completely covered in electrical tape.  The first few minutes inside that “mask” were pretty normal, in terms of emotion.  I waited patiently as Sir finished his masterpiece, making sure that my entire face was covered.  Shortly after, I felt something, and I am not quite sure how to describe it.

When Sir was done with the tape, I had some kind of emotional rush.  My sight was taken away, I could not speak easily, and my hearing was muffled.  With all of those senses taken away or toned down, I had a chance to concentrate on my emotions.  I felt myself tear up under layers of plastic and tape, and really could not understand why.

I think, at that point, I felt free.  Free to let everything out, because no one could see my expressions.  Free to look inside myself and not be distracted by my surroundings.  Free to just let myself be engulfed in my own emotions, as undefinable as they sometimes are.  With my view of the outside world taken away from me, all I had was my thoughts and feelings.  I zoned out; went away to a happy place.  For however long I spent with my face wrapped up in plastic wrap and electrical tape, it felt as though some kind of gate had been broken inside me, allowing everything I felt to flow freely.

Looking back, I think having something cover my face lets me get in tune with my emotions.  At this point, I am completely open with Sir and Miss, and do my best to express my emotions around them; however, I still find comfort in the times when my emotions stay between me and myself.  Being put in that electrical tape mask gave me that moment, a time when I could just be with myself.

Last weekend, after buying a rather large roll of cling wrap, Sir and Miss cocooned my body in plastic, cutting holes that allowed for full exposure of my breasts and butt.  Sir laid me down on the floor and then began torturing my breasts; both with clothes pegs and with hot wax.  Although my head was left uncovered this time, I still reached a point in which I felt internal freedom.  Having no control over my body physically was liberating to me, because I no longer had to worry about it.  There was no point in trying to move, because as hard as I could try, there was no escaping the plastic bindings holding me in place.

While Sir was torturing my breasts, I felt a sense of helplessness; and I liked it.  I do not think I am a physical masochist, but I think there is a sense of emotional masochism in me that shines every time I am made to feel helpless and out of control.  Having one clothes peg after another clamped onto me, or drop after drop of wax splash over my skin, no matter how much I beg for it to stop, really turns me on.  As scary as it can be, the loss of control is what I thrive on.  It gives me a vacation from a life where I am always (or mostly) in control.  And that break, that small pause from life, is what makes me feel so free.

!

Pssst…You can find more photos from my last two visits in this gallery.

Tags: , ,

Posted in Sir and Miss | No Comments »
Older Entries