My very first memory I have is sitting in a cot. It is white and it has those funny looking soft animals on the inside. I always thought they looked weird and outdated. I am looking from inside my eyes and there are big bright green apple cupboard doors on the wall.

This is like a photo memory. A second of time. I only have a few memories from before we lived in the country. Mum and Dad got their house built when I was about 6.

I don’t remember going to kindergarten at all, not a single memory. I have three memories of living in Mum and Dad’s first house. I don’t know how old I was.

I was sitting in front of the big black and white tv watching Humphrey B Bear and Mum was standing behind me in her dressing gown doing the ironing. That is like a third person snapshot.

The other memory is of my brother pushing me into the bathwater because we were arguing about something and I had this horrible scratchy nightie on that I hated.

Oh I do also remember I had a balloon and my brother convinced me to let it go and he would get it back for me. We shared a room and slept in bunk beds. His was up the top and mine was down the bottom. Of course he would not get the balloon back down for me and I was so upset. He would do things like that all the time but that is for another day to write about.

I might as well fill you in.

As brothers go up until I was 8 from the few memories I have he was an ok brother. Once he was ten he forgot about me and made other friends. I do know that when I was 4 he was my hero. My big brother, I thought the world of him back then. As he got older he would constantly tease and torment me. I’m not sure if he knew what a big impact that behavior had on me. How tortured it made me feel, or how upset it made me. I refused to cry in front of anyone back then. He delighted in getting me so frustrated I would try and attack him but being bigger and older he easily held me off. Are all brothers like this? Do they all go through a stage of tormenting their siblings?

The second house we lived in was a rental, Mum and Dad were in the process of building a house for us.

This house seemed to be filled with light for me. I don’t know why but I always thought of it as the sunny house. It seems to glow with happiness when I remember it. I only have one memory of living in this house. I went outside to get the milk for Mum. I was so excited and I remember the bottles were very big and hard to hold in my arms and as I got back to the door and I tried to open it the bottles slipped from my arms and smashed on the verandah. Oh I was so devastated, I cried my eyes out I was so disappointed and ashamed that I had broken the bottles. To me it felt like the world was ending and  I remember Mum coming out and picking me up and carrying me back inside.

I have another memory and I don’t remember which house it was in but it was in an old fashioned kitchen and it was sunny outside. I was sitting on the floor with my legs straight out like a little kid sits and there was an open drawer above me and I had a large sharp knife in my left hand and there were little cuts on my knees. It is like a photo image and I can see myself from behind. I have always thought this a very strange memory as I had no idea what I was doing for many years but I will come back to that at another time as well.

So this kitchen I found out later was in the fibro house, my insiders called ‘the dark house’. This was where in the above memory I was trying to cut my hand off. Where most of the abuse happened. Mainly at night but also during the day. As you can tell before my insiders came out the above memory is the only one I had of living here. I remember I shared a room with my brother and we had white lace curtains in our room. My bed was closest to the door.

The second rental house that we lived in when I was little was a fibro house. It had no garden and no fences it just sat on a small block of land with large pine trees behind it all in a row. Huge trees they were.  For many years I did not know why but I only remembered this house from a snapshot memory of it like a photo.

My memories really begin in the main house. My parents bought 7 acres off my paternal grandfather out the back of Rosebud on the Mornington Peninsula in Victoria, Australia.  The suburb was called Rye. It was mainly just empty acres of land with farms and bushland. It had a very long driveway from the road and my parents built the house on a hill overlooking the property. They did a lot of the inside work, flooring, kitchen, Dad built a bar and Mum did all the curtains, painting, wallpaper and carpet in the bedrooms. A friend of theirs was a bricklayer and he did a lot of the work.

We lived in this house from when I was 6 to when I was 17. I remember Mum and Dad’s bedroom was down one end of the house and our bedrooms were down the other. Im sure that also was deliberate. Having 4 children all from the age of 12 to 6 can get noisy I guess.

We were good kids from what I can remember. My siblings had the normal fights and arguments I guess. My two older sisters were closer in age than my brother and I. They had shared a room until this house and my brother and I shared a room as well. The dynamics changed once we moved into this house as my brother got his own room and I shared with my sisters in one big room. I hated it. It was a big oblong room and I had the middle part and my sisters had each end. I hated how open it was. It had large built in wardrobes and I remember one time hiding in my section as I was scared. I had no idea what of.


The ‘space’ between Us

A lot of people talk about triggers, about ‘subspace’ and ‘domspace’.

When I look at R and me what I see as his triggers for putting him in that space although just knowing he is owned by me puts him in that space 24/7. What makes that feeling stronger for him the most in him is humiliating him, degrading him, using humiliating names, taking away his personality as in giving him a name such as cunt, nigger, calling his cock a little clitty, giving him a slave registration and just calling him by that number. Having him clean my heels with his tongue, drinking my piss in public while dining at a restaurant is exactly what puts him there. Humiliating him in public, calling him slave or 699 in front of other people, having him carry my handbag, using his mouth as an ashtray whether other people can see us or not. Going to a park and spitting in his mouth one second and continuing our chat like nothing has happened, slapping his face is another. These are all big triggers for him but with the added humiliation of doing it in public where others can see. Huge. And I am the other side of the coin where it outwardly manifests what you would call my ‘domspace’. Public humiliation is huge for me as well.

But I do not see it as a form of exhibitionism, which might sound strange as neither of us does it because we want others to watch but just a continuation of what we are to each other in private or in public. He would never embarrass me in public as he is very considerate and I am getting used to doing things to him in public so we do try to be discrete, lol. But a lot of the time I know the urge in him to get down and worship my feet in public whether we are amongst a crowd of people or alone is very strong in him.

He sees himself as less than the dirt on my shoes, he would lick my spit off the pavement if I let him, this is a man who worships the ground I walk on. He craves to be part of me, to feel every emotion I feel, to know every thought. He craves every part of me that comes from my body.

That knowledge changes you. That worship is a drug like no other. He has ruined me for any others completely. Do you know what I would do for that? And not from anyone but from him only. He asked me to destroy him, his sense of self-worth, who he was. He needed that, he craves that. In his reality he deserves no less, he is a slave, he needs no sense of self-worth, that comes from his owner. And I would do anything to keep him.

Our dynamic is a circle, it feeds from one to the other, the energy between us is electrifying, at first when I was silent it frustrated him, but then he learnt to listen to the silences between us and he learnt to appreciate that feeling of energy. It speaks volumes about what we are.

The thing is I do not tell him everything, I do not because I will always have the upper hand, I follow my intuition with him, and a lot of the time I feel I am working in the dark, and it frustrates me, I need his input, I need his feedback to know that where I am leading him is the right direction. I do not want to destroy the foundations of our relationship by completely destroying what we have by doing something that causes him so much pain he hits a wall. Because even though we are slave and Owner, we are also lovers, soulmates, confidantes. I know whatever I needed, he would be there for me because that also feeds who he is. Emotionally, psychologically he feeds from being my support system. For me there needs to be a balance of what we are. He says step by step, and I say if one step is the wrong direction then we just change that direction simple as that because at the core of what we have his worship is what feeds me and everything else is just icing on the cake of life.

So many threads between us and yet I am still trying to unravel them, and he makes me work in the dark so I have to feel my way like a blind person.

Fetlife newbies

When people first come to Fetlife they worry too much about consent. Yes, you should think about it and be honest with whoever you play with but come on if someone says flog the shit out of me or humiliate me because it makes my cock weep I am not going to worry about the damage I do if they say yes that is what they want, what they need.

Humiliation and degradation are two things that I thought would never turn me on but hello my little tea totaller vagina turns into a raging alcoholic when I involve these two friendly acts in my relationships. Who knew?

But humiliating and degrading R is not just a sexual component of what we had but a spiritual one. He knew it turned me on, but he also knew it made me feel powerful, confident and loved. Yes loved because I knew he let me humiliate him, degrade him because he wanted to make me happy, he needed to please me, support me in whatever I needed even if it meant causing him pain. Don’t get me wrong I think it also hit a spot in him. We vetted each other deeply before we ever met and from the first second, we did he was licking the soles of my shoes. We had no vanilla meeting first, no coffee to get to know you, no vanilla. And that set our relationship from the start.

He is very different in his thinking, a very deep thinker, there is meaning to everything he does. He sees beauty where no one else does. To him, I am a daisy growing in the crack of the pavement that everyone steps over and has no thought of yet he knelt down and tended that daisy like it was the most beautiful flower on earth.

Do you know what that is like? To be that daisy. He was my gardener and gave me things I never thought possible.


I was honest with Serena about what had happened between R and I. I had told her briefly and she said she understood but I made it clear to her this time what had happened and my feelings for him,  And that my feelings for Serena would not deepen over time. I would feel like I was going through the motions with Serena and even though I enjoyed what we had, I felt no meaning.  

I also feel lost and I don’t  want to deal with someone else even as loving and giving as Serena. I felt I was giving her nothing but a superficiality and I couldn’t cheat her like that. I just couldn’t. It’s bad enough what R did to me with walking away I did not want to draw another person into this mess that I had become.

You can imagine she was not happy because for her I was it. But I cannot be a lie for someone else to make them happy. I am colder and ruthless than before. Serena needs a soft touch and I cannot give that to her as much as I tried. I cannot let go of R. As much as I lie to myself and others around me. I cannot let him go. 

R changed me forever, changed my inner core. As a dominant I am stronger than ever. He opened that door for me and I walked through knowing I would lose something within me. But we cannot grow without feeling the awkwardness of growth.

The dominant in me waits. She thinks he may have walked away three times but twice he came back. She looks at the situation with a knowledge of him that I do not have, with a clarity whereas my emotions cloud my judgement and I doubt. 

If you had broken a slave and his every thought, his every feeling revolves around his owner. Do you think he would not come crawling back. She tells me this and yet my mind does not believe her. She says he fights what he knows is the truth. That he is mine and always will be. He craves me, he needs what I can give him. We are complete when we are together.  

No matter how far the distance, or the time we are apart she feels that knowledge inside her. His constant presence, we are connected. She says wait, be patient. 

The woman in me prays she is right. I am so lost without him, he was my support and everything seems pale and reality is washed out without him in my life to enrich and colour it. 

Take Three

So many times since R left I have thought about writing but then I am at a loss what to write about. I never come here thinking of a subject or an idea. I just write what comes to my mind as I type.

The day after R left Serena messaged me like somehow she knew that I needed comfort… And Serena has been here for me ever since she knows I am wounded and hurt but wants me anyway… Makes me wonder why as I pushed her away twice before… but she is persistent when I sent her away the last time for topping from the bottom she went and saw a dominant she knew and asked for it to be trained out of her. So in the last four months, she has had the crap beaten out of her… so she could be a better slave for me… what does that say about the type of person she is… Even though she knew I might not even respond to her message or even give her another chance she came back willingly… and that touched me… her devotion moved me. I am not the same person I was when I knew Serena last… but I feel an affection for her, I respect her for being true to who she is, and I know Carnal loved her, when I look at Serena I feel Carnals love for her, I feel Gyles desire for her, and my affection. I don’t know if I will ever get over what R did to me, we heal around our hurts, they never heal, but we can move on, we can have meaningful relationships with others. As we are different so is the way we love each lover that we have different. I do not expect to love Serena as I loved R but I do not see what I feel for Serena as less but just different.

Serena has asked me to consider her again and I agreed. I said I would give her a years contract. I do not know what will happen at the end of the year, I really do not know what will happen tomorrow but R taught me how important it is to live in the moment, enjoy what we have now because tomorrow it could be gone. I will never thank him but I learnt that lesson well. And other lessons that left a bitter taste behind.

He told me he didn’t need me to love him I should have taken that as a warning. But I needed to love him… I need love in a relationship, D/s or otherwise and he was looking for a true power exchange, he did not believe you can love your slave and still treat them as a possession. I believed differently. Maybe he is right, there was no middle ground for us.

I go over and over in my mind what happened and I am still no closer to the truth.

Serena deserves better…


Hard Lesson Learnt


Not sure exactly what to write. When you think you have found the one it is a hard thing to accept that instead of gold you found tinsel. I gambled my heart and lost and I would do so again. Pandora would call me foolish and she would be right.

You can say all the comforting things, think all the usual stuff that happens when someone you think loves you walks away but it still hurts, that rejection. I hate that I think about him, I try to work out the whys but you cannot change the reasons why someone does not want you. That they decide you are not what they wanted after all.

Everything he offered was just words, he gave me what I wanted to hear, what I desired. What I had always wanted and dreamed of ever since I was little. Do you know what that does to someone when you do that? And then take it away? It is a living hell. I do not understand how someone can act so callously, maybe I was just a fix.

In my eyes that is the worst kind of abuse that you can do to someone. I would take my father’s sexual abuse over this feeling inside me anyday. I know I am blocking most of the pain and all I am getting is what leaks through. Because if I did not I would kill myself. So I am doing what I can to survive and to forget as quickly as possible. Plain and simple I will not give him the satisfaction of destroying me.


It was all lies. R is moving to Hong Kong permanently, seems I was not worthy after all. Lies, all his words, his actions, he played with me and he has destroyed me. He is the most despicable kind of person, he has left ashes in my soul.

I knew he was an asshole, but this. How can he play with someone in such a way….

A Bratty Slave


I was thinking about R as I do. Lol.

And one thing I have noticed he is soooo impatient especially when he is waiting for an answer to a question he has asked me. If he was a sub I would call him a brat. He is impatient, outspoken, demanding, needy, can be a total asshole but I know he has been so hurt in the past that he expects everyone to let him down, to be players and not who they say they are. But he is also compassionate, considerate, fair, affectionate, spirited, driven, loving, patient, empathetic.

I guess I am different in that when I say something I damn well mean it, I will follow through, I will do what I say I will because I know that is total control over him and without that you lose control of your sub/slave. So when he asked me the other night if I would really go ahead and get him castrated. There was no hesitation on my part, I will in the future when I have damaged his balls beyond repair have him castrated and by then he will be resigned to his fate, without question. I stand by my word because at times it is all I have ever had in life when I had nothing else.

Lol, I scared the crap out of him because he knows me well enough by now to know that I meant it. I haven’t worked out the exact amount of time ahead of us because we have put no time limit on anything because the journey is something we both enjoy but its a given. Makes me laugh with delight that I terrify him at times. It is the sadist in me that enjoys causing him any type of emotional or mental angst. I have no idea why, even with Pandora as much as I knew she hated men, I never knew her innermost thoughts. And I have never felt like such a sadistic bitch with any man before I met R so it does puzzle me at times but we both have agreed that we can analyse ourselves as much as we want and we will still come up with nothing. I just have to let it go and accept that this is who we both are and leave it at that.

It isn’t the physical aspects of bdsm – flogging, or needles, or spanking, even though I will do so if it kept total control of him but the mental, I love mental bondage, I love knowing I imprison his mind in such a way he is helpless to resist. It inflames my mind, my soul. It is a drug I crave, his slavishness just feeds me and I feel complete having him as mine. This isn’t about sex, this isn’t about love, this is about total power control, this is the basis of our relationship and everything else just threads through and around it.

I am meeting a new bull tonight for dinner, R is supposed to come along and watch from a distance while I totally ignore him. I may wander past his table a couple of times and go to the bathroom and not see him. Lol.

I love when he is back from being overseas. Even though I know I am a constant presence in his mind 24/7 it comforts me when he is home.

Saturday we are meeting for dinner at my favourite restaurant opposite the foreshore, you can see the beach whenever you glance towards the front of the restaurant. I love the visual aspect. I plan on humiliating him throughout the night in various ways. We both love discrete public humiliation. Nectar in his wine glass, having him kneel in the car park in the dark and clean my soles, going for a walk in the park and destroying his balls, chatting and just using his mouth as my ashtray, casually just slapping him across the face out of the blue all delight me. And the thing is I hate giving him a heads up, I don’t like letting him know what is going to happen beforehand. And he constantly asks me. Lol. The other night I told him to stop and desist from asking. And every time he does from now on I will tell him to stop because he does not need to know. He needs to just do.

There are times we do just talk because we both believe communication is the key ingredient to understanding each other but I do not need him to work me out, although I am sure he probably has because he is very good at working with people and does it as part of his work but I know there always has to be part of me he cannot access. I will always have to keep him guessing. Like a little kid with a puzzle box, Lol.