Dana visited today to touch up on any regrowth that occurred from the last treatment a month ago,
For the most part, very little has grown back, but there's still some nagging hairs in the pubic area that come back, along with some on my legs. Otherwise, she's done a pretty good job of lasering them away.
Apparently, Ms. Julia reminded her of the area that she hasn't been able to do very well.
"It's just tough to get into that space" Dana said.
Laying on my belly the whole time, I felt very much like a piece of property that Ms. Julia was having customized, like a dog getting its ears cropped, or its tail docked. It was permanent, and without my consent.
There's a part of me that says its OK, because I will be Ms. Julia's property forever, and there's no need to think about the future. On the other hand, this hair removal is permanent, and I'm now 100% bare. Is it wise for me to put all my eggs into this basket?
I've lived my life believing that there's only now, and no such thing as the past or future. That is, preparing for the future is futile because there's no way to know what the future holds. I may as well go all in right now, in everything I do.
I mean, just a year ago I could never have predicted I would be living with a woman, as some kind of boy slave, servant, or pet. I was certain to spend my life dating men, trying to earn a living in the music industry. Yet here I am, painting a woman's toenails, offering her companionship, and being her sex toy.
The truth is that we each build on top of what we are now. There are no wrong turns in life. There's only what we make of it. If you're on your deathbed, and you can look back on your life and feel content that you lived a good one, that's all that matters.
It's some kind of feminization to have all body hair removed, because I strangely feel feminine in the way bed sheets drape against my skin. I feel more naked in the sunshine and in the breeze. The way Ms. Julia runs her hand across my body makes me feel more submissive.
I feel myself desiring her happiness. I want her to be pleased with how soft and smooth my cock feels in her hands. I suppose most straight guys couldn't give a shot what a woman thinks of them. But yet, I find myself hoping and praying that Ms. Julia will be satisfied.
She Has Friends But I Don't
The whole Facebook friends issue that I wrote about earlier is still on my mind.
The thing is that I don't have any friends at this point. I'm being kept by Ms. Julia in this guest house all day long with no one to see or speak to, other than Fatima who comes in to bring me my breakfast and lunch. Certainly, I can consider Ms. Julia to be a friend, but I need someone else to talk to, a third person who I can confide in, open up to, express to, trust and know who loves me back.
Ms. Julia already knows about my loneliness, but she knows what she wants and is emphatic about getting it. I suppose I can't blame someone for sticking to their guns. And considering I'm already getting a lot back in exchange for the dedication I've committed to, it's hard for me to complain.
On this laptop, I can only be a ghost. I can read what others have written but not communicate back. I can leave my thoughts on this blog, but not I'm not allowed to interact with my readers. It's what she wants, complete dedication and no input from others.
But what does that do to a human being over time?
Ms. Julia has friends professionally and socially. She has a domme group she's a part of. She goes on business trips, goes to conventions, has a staff of employees, and numerous people she confides in.
I only have what she gives me.
She reads what I write here, and for the most part, this is my only avenue for speaking to her. Otherwise, I'm only allowed to speak when spoken to.
I wonder what took place in her past that shaped her in the way she is today. Did a man abuse her? Did highschool girls make fun of her? Did a mother steal her childhood?
Because I can understand. I know what it's like to be isolated, neglected, disrespected, and angry. But where I tend to run away from confrontation, Ms. Julia tends to fight. Somewhere in our pasts, our neural pathways took different turns to make me who I am and to make her who she is.
You could say that we're a good fit together in this regards. I'm still dedicated to be what she wants, but struggling to get what I need. Perhaps it's all part of her long term plans for me. I'm just glad that I can at least write.
The thing is that I don't have any friends at this point. I'm being kept by Ms. Julia in this guest house all day long with no one to see or speak to, other than Fatima who comes in to bring me my breakfast and lunch. Certainly, I can consider Ms. Julia to be a friend, but I need someone else to talk to, a third person who I can confide in, open up to, express to, trust and know who loves me back.
Ms. Julia already knows about my loneliness, but she knows what she wants and is emphatic about getting it. I suppose I can't blame someone for sticking to their guns. And considering I'm already getting a lot back in exchange for the dedication I've committed to, it's hard for me to complain.
On this laptop, I can only be a ghost. I can read what others have written but not communicate back. I can leave my thoughts on this blog, but not I'm not allowed to interact with my readers. It's what she wants, complete dedication and no input from others.
But what does that do to a human being over time?
Ms. Julia has friends professionally and socially. She has a domme group she's a part of. She goes on business trips, goes to conventions, has a staff of employees, and numerous people she confides in.
I only have what she gives me.
She reads what I write here, and for the most part, this is my only avenue for speaking to her. Otherwise, I'm only allowed to speak when spoken to.
I wonder what took place in her past that shaped her in the way she is today. Did a man abuse her? Did highschool girls make fun of her? Did a mother steal her childhood?
Because I can understand. I know what it's like to be isolated, neglected, disrespected, and angry. But where I tend to run away from confrontation, Ms. Julia tends to fight. Somewhere in our pasts, our neural pathways took different turns to make me who I am and to make her who she is.
You could say that we're a good fit together in this regards. I'm still dedicated to be what she wants, but struggling to get what I need. Perhaps it's all part of her long term plans for me. I'm just glad that I can at least write.
Banned From Using Facebook
I've been banned from using Facebook.
After posting my last article about what people say about me on Facebook, Ms. Julia became angry about me being on Facebook, or any social network for that matter. Her original instruction was that I am not allowed to connect with other people with this laptop. I initially thought it meant e-mailing, or chatting. I hadn't considered social networks, even though I was using a new Facebook account under a name no one would recognize.
Ms. Julia likes the idea of her sending me e-mails when she's out, and of me reading articles, watching videos, and writing this blog. She just doesn't want me building relationships with others.
At first, I felt this want to stand up for myself, and had actually did when she asked why I had disobeyed her orders. I had asked back why I couldn't just limit my interaction to just Facebook, and do so as a complete stranger. She had responded back asking if she wasn't enough for me, and if I needed more than being her companion. Of course, I knew that I could be replaced with another boy. It's certainly not my desire to make her feel inadequate or unimportant.
There was some punishment in the form of whipping from her crop, followed by having to sit in a coat closet, in total darkness, for 12 hours.
But that wasn't all. Ms. Julia remained rather disappointed for the next several days, and somehow that felt worse for me. Even though I was still having dinner with her, and still sleeping in bed with her, her anger kept me feeling nervous. It was only this weekend that she seemed to have gotten over it.
"It hurts me that you turn to other people for your needs", she said. "That's what I am having trouble with. If am not enough for you, then you cannot stay here."
I apologized again, and assured her that she is all that I could ever need and want.
After posting my last article about what people say about me on Facebook, Ms. Julia became angry about me being on Facebook, or any social network for that matter. Her original instruction was that I am not allowed to connect with other people with this laptop. I initially thought it meant e-mailing, or chatting. I hadn't considered social networks, even though I was using a new Facebook account under a name no one would recognize.
Ms. Julia likes the idea of her sending me e-mails when she's out, and of me reading articles, watching videos, and writing this blog. She just doesn't want me building relationships with others.
At first, I felt this want to stand up for myself, and had actually did when she asked why I had disobeyed her orders. I had asked back why I couldn't just limit my interaction to just Facebook, and do so as a complete stranger. She had responded back asking if she wasn't enough for me, and if I needed more than being her companion. Of course, I knew that I could be replaced with another boy. It's certainly not my desire to make her feel inadequate or unimportant.
There was some punishment in the form of whipping from her crop, followed by having to sit in a coat closet, in total darkness, for 12 hours.
But that wasn't all. Ms. Julia remained rather disappointed for the next several days, and somehow that felt worse for me. Even though I was still having dinner with her, and still sleeping in bed with her, her anger kept me feeling nervous. It was only this weekend that she seemed to have gotten over it.
"It hurts me that you turn to other people for your needs", she said. "That's what I am having trouble with. If am not enough for you, then you cannot stay here."
I apologized again, and assured her that she is all that I could ever need and want.
What They Say On Facebook About Me
Facebook can be a real let down.
I discovered that a couple of friends I had, or thought I had, never thought much of me.
Over the past few weeks that I've had this laptop, I created a new Facebook account under a pseudonym, and had followed many of my old friends. Quite a few of them friended me back, not knowing who I really am. Someone mentioned in a comment about not having heard from me for many months, and wondered what happened.
"His last post was on August 28, 2015", commented one person.
"WTF?" commented another
"Are you talking about that dipshit?" someone else chimed in.
"HAHAHAHAHA!" answered another
"Yeah, that dude was weird", one person answered.
I guess maybe, I'm just sensitive. Maybe I shouldn't be looking at Facebook if I can't handle what people say behind by back. I can only imagine what they will say when I die.
I feel like such a ghost now, haunting social media. I get to hear what people say about me when I'm not around.
But what about other people who now know me as Ms. Julia's "boy" or "personal servant"? Do they think I'm weird too? Am I a dipshit to them also?
If anything, Ms. Julia and the other dommes and subs that associate with her see me as the true soul that I am. This person who struggles with co-dependency, low self-esteem, shame, and self-pity, somehow feels right at home being subservient to a much superior domme. I can be my real self to her and her fellow dommes, I can show my true colors to their subs, and feel comfortable about being low on the totem pole. Strangely, it actually feels good.
On the one hand, you cannot go through life worrying about what other people think about you. But saying it is one thing, and doing it is another. I can't help but want to confirm what I already believe about myself.
It makes me feel more safe being Ms. Julia's boy. I get to hide from the world while being totally exposed to her and her friends. It's like confirming my pity to those who accept me as subservient, and not having to confront those who make a mockery of me.
I discovered that a couple of friends I had, or thought I had, never thought much of me.
Over the past few weeks that I've had this laptop, I created a new Facebook account under a pseudonym, and had followed many of my old friends. Quite a few of them friended me back, not knowing who I really am. Someone mentioned in a comment about not having heard from me for many months, and wondered what happened.
"His last post was on August 28, 2015", commented one person.
"WTF?" commented another
"Are you talking about that dipshit?" someone else chimed in.
"HAHAHAHAHA!" answered another
"Yeah, that dude was weird", one person answered.
I guess maybe, I'm just sensitive. Maybe I shouldn't be looking at Facebook if I can't handle what people say behind by back. I can only imagine what they will say when I die.
I feel like such a ghost now, haunting social media. I get to hear what people say about me when I'm not around.
But what about other people who now know me as Ms. Julia's "boy" or "personal servant"? Do they think I'm weird too? Am I a dipshit to them also?
If anything, Ms. Julia and the other dommes and subs that associate with her see me as the true soul that I am. This person who struggles with co-dependency, low self-esteem, shame, and self-pity, somehow feels right at home being subservient to a much superior domme. I can be my real self to her and her fellow dommes, I can show my true colors to their subs, and feel comfortable about being low on the totem pole. Strangely, it actually feels good.
On the one hand, you cannot go through life worrying about what other people think about you. But saying it is one thing, and doing it is another. I can't help but want to confirm what I already believe about myself.
It makes me feel more safe being Ms. Julia's boy. I get to hide from the world while being totally exposed to her and her friends. It's like confirming my pity to those who accept me as subservient, and not having to confront those who make a mockery of me.
Second Thursday of the Month
The femdom group that Ms. Julia participates meets every second Thursday night of the month. Last night we traveled to another domme's home as it was her time to host.
One would think that traveling in car would offer me the opportunity to wear clothing, but the tinted windows in the back seat keep me well concealed.
Most bring their subs with them, often adorning them in arm bands, hair pieces, and draped in cloths that are more humiliating than anything. Some dommes take the time to dress themselves up as well, in leather or other tight fitting garments of dominance.
There's a 50/50 mix of sub males and sub females.
Only myself remains fully nude, except for a collar. One other female wears a sheer white tunic that fails to hide anything at all.
We gather around in the living room, with dommes seated in chairs, and subs kneeling on the carpet next to their masters. They mostly talk about their experiences in training their subjects. Often time, the discussion gets side tracked into topics of gossip about whichever domme failed to show up. Ms. Julia is often calm and quiet, and therefore always gets attention when she speaks.
I'm often amazed at how diverse the group is.
Sub Female 1: Lives separately from her domme, and chooses to participate in this kind of relationship, allowing herself to be swatted with a stick.
Sub Female 2: Married to her domme, and is quite social while her other half is more intellectual and quiet.
Male Sub 1: Appears to be as young as I am, but a more tall and muscular. He could easily overpower his domme and make a mockery of her, but she manages to keep him placated with motherly strokes of her hand and gentle words of praise.
Male Sub 2: In his 40s it appears, wears this pink, lacy negligee with his body hair sticking out. He totally doesn't look at all submissive, and perhaps is doing it just to make his wife happy.
Male Sub 3: Younger guy, thin, is the only other sub, who like me, lives with his domme but is not married to her. He's caged as well, but is always overly anxious, like he's constantly worried about doing something wrong.
Male Sub 4: Young, very well built and proportioned, and very handsome. He's very obedient, follows his domme perfectly, opens the door for her, knows when to refill her cup, and never seems to care what other people are thinking.
Male Sub 5: Wears leather straps and what appears to be some kind of Mexican wrestling mask. He's more beefy built, and appears to act more as her bodyguard than a sub.
And then there's me.
Male Sub 3 always intrigues me. I see him as most like myself. However, he's more co-dependent. Not saying that I'm not, I know I have co-dependency issues too. It's just too easy to tell that he's constantly tripping over himself to get her approval. I feel sorry, genuinely sorry, that people submit themselves to a more dominant person out of feelings of worthlessness. I guess I often go through that issue myself.
I get the sense that he too lives with his domme under some kind of situation where he's better off with her than without. That is, we both have the freedom to leave, but realizing that the situation is much better if we stayed.
In other words, freedom is just another set of responsibilities. You can choose to accept them and learn to become self-sufficient, so that you can protect yourself and care for your needs. Or, you can choose to give up that freedom, live under someone else's rule, even to the point of becoming brainwashed, just for that same protection and care. You can become proud of your independence, but so can you be proud of your servitude. Both are just means of survival.
One of the dommes last night pointed out, "I think a sub should be proud to serve."
Back Home with a Vengeance
Ms. Julia finally returned home from her business trip late last Saturday night. I was finally called in from spending the last several weeks isolated in the guest home.
That night Ms. Julia was expectedly exhausted after a long day of flights and stopovers. I was sure she just wanted to go right to bed, but it seemed, somehow, that she was too happy to.
I had to admit, I was really happy to see her too. I mean, spending the past few weeks in the small confines of the guest house, with no one to talk to other than Fatima browsing in to bring me my meals and do some light clean up, felt like prison. At least now, I was with my master who wanted nothing more than to lay in bed with me, tell me about her trip, and show me some photos on her cellphone.
These homecomings seems like the best of times because I feel more like a friend to her, and less like a slave, or personal servant. She talks to me with great excitement about the people she met, the business prospects she collected, and strange new places she visited. In these moments, I congratulate her, praise her, and listen in awe to help keep the elation going. It's just part of why she keeps me.
Afterwards, there was some intense pegging due to her starved sexual appetite. There were moments when I considered using my safeword because the intensity was getting too much for me, but I never did. I wanted her to get everything she wanted from me. We finished the session with me helping her achieve an orgasm. We fell asleep soon after.
The following day, Ms. Julia only wanted to lay in bed and watch television all afternoon and evening long. She had Fatima prepare light lunches and dinners with snacks in between. That night again, there more was intense pegging, following up another orgasm for her.
And then next night, she actually removed the cage and fucked me from atop.
This afternoon, I find myself back in the guest house. She had returned to her office to resume work.
So now, I feel regenerated too. Yes, we're back to a routine, but it's a better routine than just being isolated all day and night. Otherwise, it's the loneliness that makes this life suck. But, the interaction with my master, as intense and aggressive it can sometimes be, is quite rewarding.
That night Ms. Julia was expectedly exhausted after a long day of flights and stopovers. I was sure she just wanted to go right to bed, but it seemed, somehow, that she was too happy to.
I had to admit, I was really happy to see her too. I mean, spending the past few weeks in the small confines of the guest house, with no one to talk to other than Fatima browsing in to bring me my meals and do some light clean up, felt like prison. At least now, I was with my master who wanted nothing more than to lay in bed with me, tell me about her trip, and show me some photos on her cellphone.
These homecomings seems like the best of times because I feel more like a friend to her, and less like a slave, or personal servant. She talks to me with great excitement about the people she met, the business prospects she collected, and strange new places she visited. In these moments, I congratulate her, praise her, and listen in awe to help keep the elation going. It's just part of why she keeps me.
Afterwards, there was some intense pegging due to her starved sexual appetite. There were moments when I considered using my safeword because the intensity was getting too much for me, but I never did. I wanted her to get everything she wanted from me. We finished the session with me helping her achieve an orgasm. We fell asleep soon after.
The following day, Ms. Julia only wanted to lay in bed and watch television all afternoon and evening long. She had Fatima prepare light lunches and dinners with snacks in between. That night again, there more was intense pegging, following up another orgasm for her.
And then next night, she actually removed the cage and fucked me from atop.
This afternoon, I find myself back in the guest house. She had returned to her office to resume work.
So now, I feel regenerated too. Yes, we're back to a routine, but it's a better routine than just being isolated all day and night. Otherwise, it's the loneliness that makes this life suck. But, the interaction with my master, as intense and aggressive it can sometimes be, is quite rewarding.
It Gets Lonely Without Her
Ms. Julia has been gone for three days now on some kind of business trip, and it's really boring here.
I can't help but wonder that I'm being watched and recorded.
Often I stare at the air conditioning vents up by the ceiling and wonder if there's a tiny camera mounted in there. Considering how meticulous Ms. Julia can be about details, and how strict she can be about sticking to the rules, it doesn't seem beyond her to have this guest house rigged up.
She has the money to do it. And her property is already set up with security monitoring.
There are three smoke detectors in here, along with a carbon monoxide detector, I wonder if there's anything else hiding in there. There's a very large mirror mounted on the wall too, and it's fastened very securely that I can't lift it or see behind it. It makes me wonder if it's one-way glass with a camera behind it.
I guess when I'm stuck in this little place for several days straight, my mind wanders and thinks about stuff like this.
"Don't even ATTEMPT to take this cage off!" she said to me when she put it on. "If I catch you fucking with this, you be will kicked out, just as you are!"
Which is why I wonder how she might know if I was fucking with it.
She can already monitor her house from her cellphone because the security company gives her an app that lets her view the cameras remotely. But in her house, you can see the cameras mounted on the ceilings, even though they are small.
But I gotta believe they can also make very tiny cameras that can be cleverly hidden from view. Even though Ms. Julia puts a lot of trust in me, she's not a fool.
Fatima brings me three meals a day, albeit light. I do the treadmill. I watch television, and plays games on this laptop. There are books here to read, but they don't interest me right now. Otherwise, time is very monotonous when Ms. Julia is gone for days at a time.
I miss being with her, even as strict and demanding that she can be.
I can't help but wonder that I'm being watched and recorded.
Often I stare at the air conditioning vents up by the ceiling and wonder if there's a tiny camera mounted in there. Considering how meticulous Ms. Julia can be about details, and how strict she can be about sticking to the rules, it doesn't seem beyond her to have this guest house rigged up.
She has the money to do it. And her property is already set up with security monitoring.
There are three smoke detectors in here, along with a carbon monoxide detector, I wonder if there's anything else hiding in there. There's a very large mirror mounted on the wall too, and it's fastened very securely that I can't lift it or see behind it. It makes me wonder if it's one-way glass with a camera behind it.
I guess when I'm stuck in this little place for several days straight, my mind wanders and thinks about stuff like this.
"Don't even ATTEMPT to take this cage off!" she said to me when she put it on. "If I catch you fucking with this, you be will kicked out, just as you are!"
Which is why I wonder how she might know if I was fucking with it.
She can already monitor her house from her cellphone because the security company gives her an app that lets her view the cameras remotely. But in her house, you can see the cameras mounted on the ceilings, even though they are small.
But I gotta believe they can also make very tiny cameras that can be cleverly hidden from view. Even though Ms. Julia puts a lot of trust in me, she's not a fool.
Fatima brings me three meals a day, albeit light. I do the treadmill. I watch television, and plays games on this laptop. There are books here to read, but they don't interest me right now. Otherwise, time is very monotonous when Ms. Julia is gone for days at a time.
I miss being with her, even as strict and demanding that she can be.
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