Tuesday, July 5, 2016


My body is owned by another. I use it, but this is with the permission of its owner, my husband Jason. When he decides he wants my body to do something, to achieve something, to change in some way, then it is my responsibility as slave to make that change.

Jason has decided I need to enhance my flexibility.

I think there are a number of reasons why. He has also at times tested my pain thresholds, tolerance for humiliation, commitment and obedience, and has always looked for ways to expand my ability to serve him as a slave.

The more flexible I am, the more he can do with bondage, placing me in stressful positions, pushing the threshold of new positions, and I can also service him sexually with more variety. I get this.

At first, Jason simply directed me to perform certain exercises regularly to stretch and flex my muscles, much like a gymnast would perform. I've been instructed to stretch in the areas of the hamstring, adductor, groin, and the legs in general.

I was instructed to always perform these exercises in the nude. I usually perform them in the evening after getting home from work. I am very regular with them, because I know Jason will be expecting me to be more flexible and I do not want to be caught with him demanding flexibility and my not being able to provide it.

Just the thought of that makes me cringe with pain.

Over time, the exercises have actually made significant improvements in my body. I am not only more flexible, but I find my muscle tone is better and I've lost a couple of pounds (not that I was overweight before).

He's also prescribed some more unusual exercises that involve making other areas of my body more flexible, or at least training me to tolerate more stress in unusual positions.

There is a new exercise ball that I use, and I have performed various positions on this to increase my back's ability to curve backward, to tolerate inverted curves and curls.

Once I mastered this, I've gone on to doing inverted curvature exercises on the floor, with specific goals set. Jason has specifically outlined the angles and other indicators I am to achieve.  With the inverted floor exercise, I am to get my feet and hands to a specific distance from each other and hold the position for five minutes.

I can tell you now, it is painful. Obedience can be painful at times, and this is one of those times. I can get into the position, but the strain on my back is just... too much. I can't maintain five minutes by myself.

Jason has taken to supervising me in this exercise and uses a cane to encourage me to hold the position as long as possible. The cane does help; the threat of pain from the cane helps me take the pain of the inverted position and its cramping. Still, I have not yet achieved five minutes.

The caning I receive when I fail is painful. It reminds me to try harder. I usually cry when I receive it. I continue to work on the exercise.

I practice my exercises at all hours of the day, in a variety of activities, in order to reach my goals as quickly as I can.  For example, I will stretch at work, in my office, several times a day. No one knows that I am stretching so that I can spread my legs wider for my owner, that is a bit of information I hide, a secret that rather arouses me.

We also have established a common practice that when I service Jason, my legs are always spread as far apart as possible. If he fucks me, I will grab my feet and lock my knees, or if he takes me from behind I spread my legs wide.

If he demands oral, I will sit on the floor with my legs wide in the splits, and bend over and suck him.

These activities remind me of my position as slave, and my duty to obedience, in addition to helping me reach the goals Jason has set.

As I become more flexible, Jason has been using more strenuous bondage positions for me. Anyone who has read my blog and knows me, knows that I love tight bondage, severe bondage, and even painful bondage. I not only like it, I crave it.

Nevertheless, when I am bound it is for Jason's pleasure, not mine. Most recently, he subjected my body to a sort of suspended hogtie. He would tie my arms behind me in a reverse prayer, which is a matter of flexibility in itself. I am proud I can invert my arms behind my back and maintain that position for long periods at a time.

He then ties my feet together, and my feet are tied to my shoulder, neck or hair. I hate the hair the most; it hurts, pulling on the scalp painfully.  The neck is also choking, though he doesn't use slip knots that will tighten.

Finally, once in this restrictive and uncomfortable hogtie, Jason will attach a rope to my ankles and either my hair or shoulder harness and lift. This pulls my legs and head up, forcing my body into an inverted U.

Trust me, it is hard, especially on the back. The more he pulls, the more my body inverts and creates strain. Jason says he likes the noises I make when I am straining in this position. A sort of grunting moan. It is actually hard to cry this way, and I don't usually cry when bound anyway.

But I do moan, and make noises as my body strains to try and relieve the pressure on my hips, knees, back, neck...

It doesn't matter much whether I am gagged or not; being gagged usually doesn't stop me from crying out. It makes it hard to articulate words, but doesn't stop the sound.

I'm going to be really honest with you here. I love it that Jason is doing these things to me. This is the kind of thing I tried to do to myself ever since I was a teenager. It is impossible to bind oneself this securely, this uncomfortably. I've delighted and gained psychological and physical pleasure from being restrained and tied in uncomfortable and painful positions, and it is what makes me happiest.

Even when I am grunting, moaning, sobbing... I am turned on, wet, and excited.

The other night Jason pulled the inverted U hogtie suspension rope up all the way, so my stomach left the platform and I was completely suspended. My weight was on my ankles, hair and shoulders (my arms were in a modified strappado).

I hung there in the garage, swinging gently, for nearly 15 minutes. The only movement possible was to try and straighten my body out a bit, but doing so put more strain and pull on my shoulders and hair, so I tried very hard not to do that.

Otherwise, I simply hung helpless in this horrible, undignified position. I think I made very unfeminine grunting and groaning noises the entire time.

It was marvelous. Amazing.

Last night Jason decided I was not trying hard enough, not making enough progress with my splits.

Jason brought me to the garage, to a heavy supporting beam that stands in the middle of it. I was naked of course. He made me face the beam. I wondered what the heck he had in mind, but knew it was going to be uncomfortable at the least, and probably painful.

First, he tied one leg to the beam. Just one.

Then he tied my wrists behind my back, pulled my elbows together and cinched them tight as well. So far, no big deal.

My wrists were lifted up behind my back. Strappado. Normally I could lean over to compensate for the pull and twist on my shoulders but I was tied facing the beam, and couldn't. My shoulders started hurting right away.

Next, he tied my neck to the post. Holy crap. That didn't really change the tension or pain, but it did keep me from moving much and the cramps were setting in. I started to moan, and maybe even squeezed out a couple of tears.

Then things got really nasty.

Jason lifted my other leg up. I could do the splits no problem by now, but there is a difference between doing the splits with my legs spread to the side, and doing them with my body facing my leg. That I was not really practicing or able to do. Which is why it hurt and I started crying when he lifted my leg up so it ran directly against the beam, up next to my head.

He quickly lashed my leg in place, added a couple more ropes and I was securely stuck in a nasty vertical split, with arms in a painful strappado.

I think I really cried then. I wouldn't beg to be let free, my pride got in the way of that. Plus, it is unlikely Jason would have let me go.

Instead, he put nipple clamps on me. And weighted them.

This was the most severe, painful bondage I have been in for months, and I wasn't even being punished. It was simply for Jason's pleasure. He was enjoying moving, stretching, manipulating my body. I might even say he was enjoying my pain. He has a definite streak of sadism in him, just as I have a powerful streak of masochism in me.

It's a good match.

Anyway, as I said I simply stood there, one foot on the floor, the other tied directly vertical in front of my face, arms pulled up behind me, weights clamped to my nipples, sobbing. There was really nothing else I could do except sob. Cry. Let the tears roll out from the cramps that shuddered through my body.

After 15 minutes, Jason rewarded me. My cunt was of course exposed nicely, since my legs were spread as wide as I could get them. He brought my vibrator out and put it on my cunt, rubbed my clit really nicely with it, and made me cum.

Yes, it was painful. He finally let me down, and it took me a while before I could walk. I was sore all today.

I masturbated twice in the women's restroom today, just remembering the amazing tight bondage Jason had used. I love that guy more every day.

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