In the past few days I have carved my way through our wardrobes. Gee, did we really buy all these clothes? Especially John is a kind of fashion addict and really fancies shopping and that’s exactly the story his wardrobe was telling. I have sorted out at least five big bags of clothes! Cleaning up and sorting out is not easy for me. I usually want to use everything until it’s broken and can’t be repaired, but I have to admit that in the past year I’ve gotten a bit more used to John’s way of buying, wearing and finally getting fed up with clothes relatively quick. That makes me feel guilty. I think of all the natural and human ressources that were neccessary to allow me to wear a shirt or a pair of trousers. My bad conscience is even bigger when it comes to shoes as most of my shoes are made on the basis of mineral oil like sneakers. Getting rid of leather shoes is not so easy either as I think of all the animals who died so that I can wear their skin. I am not vegan, but I think of it anyway.

In our hometown, there are a few boxes where one can donate one’s old clothes to, but John and I have heard of the fact that most of the clothes given there are shredded. So I had the idea of giving them to a residence for homeless and needy men. John uttered that it might be a bit overdressed for a homeless to run around in his Armani jumper, but to be honest, one doesn’t give a fuck about the label when it’s cold!

The next thing on my list are our kitchen cabinets and the bathroom.

When I realized how much we own and how much I have veered away from my former life on the street where living out of one rucksack was normal, I felt a bit uncomfortable. Sure I’m glad I left this unhealthy lifestyle behind, but I think it would be bad to forget about the people who still live on the street. So I have decided to get a bit involved into helping them. I want to ask a local organisation whether they can need some help.

When I had decided to do so, I had a very telling shamanic journey. I met Lord Shiva and He appeared as a beggar, telling me that at least we all are beggars and that the lesson that needs to be learnt is HUMILITY. I want to embrace that teaching and bring more humility into my life. I want to sacrifice my work for homeless people or poeple in need to Lord Shiva as a sacrifice to worship Him.



Usually our housekeeper visits us on Tuesdays and Fridays, but I had forgotten that this week she said she’d come over on Thursday. That was because I left my hand-washed bra and two panties on the radiator in our bathroom and just remembered them when I heard her mopping the bathroom floor. But she was professional and did not talk about it 🙂

Pandora’s Box

John presented me with a little tin box filled with small, folded notes. He called it Pandora’s Box 🙂 On each piece of paper he has written a challenge or a task for me. After choosing one note, I have 24 hrs to fulfill the task and to prove I did by taking a picture of me, handing out what I made or by letting John participate.

Master chose the tasks with caution. He made sure they’re all things I don’t like or things that really take me a lot. For example:

  • figging
  • wearing a butt plug for a whole night
  • eating a certain amount of sweets or bread or so
  • wearing girl’s undies for work
  • wearing diapers when doing my chores
  • write down an erotic story containing one of my favourite kinks

Every now and then he adds new notes to this box to keep it surprising. I like it 🙂 Thank you, Love.

I am allowed to voluntarily fulfill tasks. When I did well, Master rewards me with a little surprise such as a new lipstick or one of the seldom BJs 🙂

Breathing Seminar

On the past weekend I have participated in a Yoga seminar given by my teacher. It was about breathing techniques and how our breath influences our body functions and our thoughts.

On Saturday, we began with Morning Sadhana at 6 a.m. 🙂 After two hrs of Yoga and meditation, we had breakfast together. Then we sat down in the classroom and my teacher gave a lecture about the basic Yogic breathing techniques such as long deep breathing, breath of fire and so on. Afterwards, we had half an hour of exercise to prepare for a breathing meditation which took 31 minutes. When he had asked me whether I wanted to join this seminar I had not been sure about it. I have some problems with breathing properly, I especially don’t seem to come to terms with certain breathing techniques (long deep breathing and holding out the breath for longer than 5 seconds). I had alway thought these problems were a result of my asthma, but my teacher had encouraged me to join, so I did. When we sat in that first breathing meditation, first I felt like giving in, but my teacher and the others kept breathing properly and I managed to adjust. But I was really exhausted afterwards!

After the medditation had come to an end, he told us to walk around the room, come back to our normal breath and relax. Then he held his 2nd lecture, in which he referred to what Yogi Bhajan had said about breathing, followed by another breathing based meditation. Then we had a light lunch with the opportunity to chat and exchange our first impressions and experiences.

The afternoon went by with one more workout, a lecture and another breathing meditation. Together we prepared dinner and made the dishes. Although there were a few people I had never seen before, it was very nice and I felt at ease when I drove home.

On Sunday, we started again by Morning Sadhana at 6 a.m. and with a breakfast consisting of a hot soup and bread. My teacher talked about breathing techniques as first aid in cases of emergency and bother, and I learned that a technique I have heard about in my time in the hospital is Yogic 🙂 We deepened our knowledge by trying it out ourselves, followed by another breathing based Kriya and another meditation. Time flew by and we had lunch. On the afternoon my teacher held a very interesting lecture about how breathing properly (in the Yogic sense) can provide body and mind with new Prana (power of life) and help us develop strength and vigor. Again, we meditated, then it was time for dinner and cleaning up after ourselves.

It was a beautiful experience! My first seminar! I am very happy I attended the class 🙂

Kein Anfänger mehr

S hat mich gefragt, warum ich nur noch selten auf Deutsch schreibe. Ich habe keine langen Texte mehr auf Deutsch geschrieben, bevor ich das Blog angefangen habe. Deutsch zu sprechen ist leichter für mich als zu versuchen, einen deutschen Text zu schreiben. Ich rede im Alltag nur auf der Arbeit oder mit deutschen Freunden Deutsch. Mit John und Leo rede ich eigentlich immer nur Englisch, außer ich weiß ein Wort nicht, dann sage ich es auf Deutsch, oder wenn es mir schwer fällt, genau das zu sagen, was ich meine. Aber das ist manchmal auch auf Deutsch schwierig. Viele deutsche Worte sind Trigger für mich, darum vermeide ich sie. Es ist schlimmer bei sexuellen Worten. Ich finde, sie klingen auf Englisch nicht so gefährlich.

Über viele Sachen kann ich nicht auf Deutsch schreiben, weil sie sich dann peinlich und schlecht anfühlen. Ich kann nicht gut auf Deutsch über BDSM schreiben, weil ich auch nicht auf Deutsch darüber nachdenke oder es mache. Eine andere Sprache als der Täter zu benutzen, hilft mir, nicht an ihn erinnert zu werden.

Aber eigentlich wollte ich heute über ein Gefühl schreiben, das ich jetzt manchmal habe, wenn ich Puja mache oder mit Lord Shiva arbeite. Es ist schwierig auf Deutsch 🙂

Wenn man etwas neu gelernt hat, ist man unsicher. Man macht es und braucht immer wieder einen Blick auf die Anleitung, damit man es richtig macht. Als John einen neuen Kaffeeautomat gekauft hat, habe ich nicht verstanden, wie er funktioniert. Ich musste mehrmals in die Betriebsanleitung schauen und es dann wiederholen. Bei Puja war es auch so. Ich habe versucht, eine Anleitung für mich zu finden, aber weil es keine gab, musste ich sie selber machen. Ich war steif, weil ich Angst hatte, dass Lord Shiva mich für einen Idioten halten könnte. Aber je mehr ich mit ihm gearbeitet habe, desto mehr hat er mir bewiesen, dass er mich nicht für einen Idioten hält. Er hat immer viel von mir gefordert, aber er hat mir auch viel gegeben. Ich sage manchmal im Scherz, Lord Shiva ist auch ein Dom. Er geht immer über das hinaus, was ich bequem und einfach finden würde.

Jetzt fühle ich immer öfter, dass Puja keine Arbeit mehr macht. Es ist alltäglich geworden und Lord Shiva hat einen Platz eingenommen. Es ist nicht mehr so ungewöhnlich und neu, dass er da ist. Es ist eher als wenn man einen guten Freund zu Besuch bekommt, den man gut kennt und wo man entspannt sein kann.

In meinem Yogakurs ist ein Mann, der sich auch für Lord Shiva interessiert. Er ist aber noch ganz am Anfang. Lord Shiva hat mich mehrmals angestoßen, mit dem Mann über ihn zu reden, aber ich habe gedacht, ich will mich nicht aufspielen und es darum nicht gemacht. Und dann hat unser Yogalehrer gesagt, Du kannst doch mal mit Blaubeermann über Shiva reden, er macht auch ganz viel mit ihm. Da habe ich mich geschmeichelt, aber auch ängstlich gefühlt. Ich habe versucht, mich klein und dumm zu reden, bis Lord Shiva eingegriffen hat. “Mach es richtig!”. Ich habe dem Mann dann gesagt, wie ich Puja mache und wie ich Lord Shiva sehe. Es hat sich komisch angefühlt, aber es war auch gut, weil ich gemerkt habe, dass Lord Shiva zufrieden war und dass es dem anderen geholfen hat.

Mir ist gezeigt worden, dass ich jetzt nicht mehr der Anfänger bin, sondern dass ich schon anderen etwas erklären kann. Ich bin nicht gerne in der Position, weil ich dann besser von mir denken müsste, als ich es eigentlich mache.


Last Friday John and I went off to meet Leo. On Thursday, Love had me put my Birdlock on and promised me a weekend without any orgasm, although I was allowed to play with myself as much as I wanted to without opening the Birdlock. Ugh! John had taken the Friday off, so that we could catch an early train. At home, he had handed me my white bra and a white panty to wear during the journey and advised me to take my more slutty equipment and the make-up with me. I was nervous because it was supposed to be the first time Leo would see me clad like that.

Wearing a bra for a short time is arousing and pleasing, really, but wearing it for 7 hours just sucks. The straps began to rub on my skin and I felt tied around my chest. I would not want to wear it everyday! John watched my discomfort with delight. He invited me to have lunch in the restaurant waggon and when we went there and had to pace our way through the narrow alleys he touched my back exactly where the bra was. I sort of liked and disliked the feeling. I liked it because it reminded me of the fact that I was wearing women’s undies and I disliked it because I felt humiliated and exposed to him.

When we arrived, Leo was there to pick us up. We had a walk around town and exchanged news and John did not miss to tell him what I was wearing underneath. I was afraid of Leo’s reaction. He seems to find BDSM at least of interest, but I guess he’s not that much into it as John and I, not to speak of Sissyfication. But obviously he was curious about it. So when we had arrived at his house, John told me to “show myself”. That’s a term I don’t like at all as it implies I’ll get examined 😦 But I did what he told me and undressed until I stood in front of them just wearing the undies and the Birdlock. The both looked at each other and smiled, Leo adding “I see what you mean”. Uhm?! That’s one more thing I don’t like. Immediately, I felt shy and uncomfortable, but they told me to come over and we began kissing and cuddling. I was surprised by how caressing and tender they were. To be honest, I had expected the opposite. It surprised me even more that none of us undressed and finally John said “let’s leave it like that”. He told me to dress up and put some discreet make-up on. Why? “Because we’re going out”. Uhm. Okay.

Only because I have watched a few videos with make-up tutorials it does not mean I can do it. My hands were shaky and I really thought I would ruin it and end up looking ridiculous, but Love came to me and suggested I should only put on some powder, mascara and lipgloss. I was relieved. I shaved my face again, put some cream on, let it all dry very well and then did what he told me. In the past week, I have tried to put on make-up several times, but I was glad and did a good job. Nevertheless, I felt insecure and strange. To see myself clad like a woman feels like crossing a well-maintained boarder. It was not easy to admit to myself that I like to be John’s gurl or maid. In fact, I still don’t know what to make of it, I just try to enjoy it and not question it too much.

To put it short, this whole weekend was dedicated to find out how it feels to be the Sissy. The both men behaved like Gentlemen-Doms and tried their best to make me feel comfortable and loved. When we had rushed off for Switzerland, I had been convinced the weekend would mean a lot of getting fucked and slapped in the face, but on the contrary! They treated me very respectful and loving and I find it hard to put it in words how thankful I am.

When it was time to say goodbye and change back to my normal clothes, it felt strange. One part of me could not get out of the womens’ clothes fast enough, but another part of me felt a bit sad. When I saw myself in the mirror, dressed in jeans and my usual shirt, I felt peculiar manly! I had not expected that. I felt like I had got to know many new things about myself and as if living out this gurlish, female part of me made me more complete and fulfilled. But I do a bit worry, too. I don’t have the slightest idea where this all may lead us. Perhaps it’s just about fun and living out fantasies. Why not?

I even try to sense a kind of spiritual benefit in crossdressing. As I have written before, I know I have many female or tantrically spoken passive aspects and living them out just delights me. It seems like I have been more enabled to sense my more male and aggressive aspects afterwards.

Now John has given me a task: I shall find a name for that female part of me by which I want to be called when we’re playing. And no orgasms, but dedicated onanism for further ten days. Ugh.