Why I Did It

In the past few days I’ve been a bad gurl and did some things my Master didn’t want me to do. I stuffed my face with unhealthy food, then I starved myself for some time without being honest about it. I didn’t shower myself every day. I cut myself. I didn’t go to my Yoga class, neither I went running. Instead I numbed myself with binge-watching stupid stuff on Netflix. I didn’t do all my chores as I’m supposed to. And worst of all, I tried to ask John not to fuck me when he needed relief. So, as a punishment, he left me home alone with the order to write this here and explain why I did it while he is having fun with another guy who wants to be the obedient fuckdoll I should always be for him.

I let myself go in the past days because I wasn’t able to feel myself properly. I thought it wouldn’t do me any harm to eat sugary rubbish and before I knew what had happened, I had eaten so much of it that I felt sick (2 bags of Katjes, almost 1 bag of marshmallow-stuff, 2 slices of cake, 3 bars of chocolate, some cookies and some ice cream). I have to admit I was a greedy pig. When I felt the nausea kick in, I wanted to vomit it all out again, but it didn’t work and I didn’t want anyone to hear me. So I thought it would be best to eat nothing for a few days to cure my nausea and not to get fat. I lied to John when he asked me why I didn’t eat anything for dinner. I said I wasn’t hungry and had already eaten. I’m supposed to always be honest to him, and I lied several times. I know it’s an unhealthy behaviour for me as I struggle with eating disorders, but I just drank water and some coffee for almost 4 days.

I didn’t shower myself because I couldn’t bear to look at me naked. I was disgusted by myself and didn’t want to see my ugly body naked. When I got naked when I attempted to take a shower, I could not bear myself and took a kitchen knife to cut myself. I started by just touching myself with the blade, then I cut into my left arm and into my chest, but most times into my arm. I had hoped for it to relief my self-hatred, but it did not. Later on I hated myself for the cuts and tried to hide them away from John. I know that was another lie, because a lie is not only something wrong you say but also something you keep for yourself or hide away.

I didn’t go to my Yoga class nor did I do other sports during this week because I just felt numb and pitied myself. It was easier to let myself go than to take care for me in a proper, adult way. By that I disobeyed the rules given to me by my Master with great care, and I feel ashamed for that. I knew better, but I chose to be a lazy pig instead of a good person. I know I am supposed to keep my body in good, healthy shape for my Master and for myself, so that I can function in the best way to please my Master and have a good life.

When I stayed at home, I chose to watch Netflix for hours instead of fulfilling my tasks. I have not cleaned the toilet and the sink daily, I have not taken the litter out daily, I have not pressed Master’s trousers, I have not mopped the kitchen floor, I have not cleaned my car and I have not scrubbed the cooker properly. I only cooked dinners for my Master to pretend I was eating normally. That too was a lie, because I pretended normality.

When John wanted to have his right to use my body for his pleasure, I only was obedient twice. I asked him several times not to use me and told him lies about the reasons. I said I had talked about bad memories during my therapeutic session, which wasn’t true. I only lied to him because I knew he would accept the given reason. I used his integrity against himself, which makes me not only a liar but also shows what a nasty, dumb pig I am. I have violated the most important rule that exists in our relationship: be honest and upright. I hurt my Master’s feelings in a obnoxious, dishonourable way.

When John found out what I did and did not do this week and he asked me about it, I tried to lie about it again and play it all down. I only admitted everything I’ve done and I’ve not done when he put pressure upon me. I’m disappointed by myself because I should know better.

My punishments are:

  1. having to have written “LIAR” on my forehead until I have to go to work on Monday
  2. publishing an honest confession on my blog, while John is having his well-earned relief with someone else
  3. having my Netflix account blocked out for a month by having John change my password
  4. having to sleep on the floor for four days, because pigs are not allowed in bed
  5. tight chastity for two weeks
  6. eating more than usual, according to what Master tells me, for two weeks. Healthy food and water only. No coffee, no sweets.

I know I didn’t only hurt myself this week, but I also hurt the man I love more than my life. I know he can only take care for me properly when I’m completely honest to him. I broke the rules he lovingly gave to me to improve not only our relationship but also my life. I hurt his feelings in an abominable way by telling lies and I feel ashamed about that. I wish I had not done it. I am awfully sorry, Sir. Please, will You forgive me?

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Try Not To Hurt Myself

Yesterday evening I had a chat with a T-gurl from the U.S. We’ve been texting for some months now and she has told me that it’s her biggest dream to be allowed to go on chemical castration by testosterone blockers, and later on she wants to take estrogen to develop a more female physique and yes, boobies. Since last week she has accomplished her first goal and is now on testosterone blockers. She told me her doctor fully approved of her decision and that he supports her thoroughly. Well, I have to admit that I feel a bit jealous and even sad. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so glad she can fulfill her dreams and all, but I still feel like here in Germany there’s nobody there to support me. If I was a transgirl, then things would be different, but there’s not much understanding for people like me who don’t fit in. I had even one doctor telling me I should decide whether I wanted to be a man or a woman. I mean, seriously? Sometimes I feel it would be the best for me to “just” give up being a part time boy, part time gurl, but I can’t. When I try to stop being Ginny, I get depressed and tend to hurt myself, so what is it good for?

Saturday night John and I attended a private BDSM party. Beforehand he told me I could suck and fuck with whoever I wanted, but no cumming for me, not even Sissygasms. To be honest, I’ve become quite successful in cumming by being fucked alone and I love it πŸ™‚ Anyway, by the end of this evening I could add a lot of points and stickers to my list, and I felt so good and used afterwards. Lately I’m thinking a lot about the fact that I can really feel myself when I get used and that I have difficulties to feel myself in everyday life. I guess there are more psychological explainations for that, but I like to think of myself as a whore who feels happy about herself when she’s doing her job right.

At the moment I sincerely consider if chemical castration might be a thing for me. It would make erections harder to archieve and softer in general, so chastity and sissification would feel more natural, and it even could lead to some sort of breast growth. But on the other hand, I’m still really concerned about the fact that a low testosterone level might make me more depressed and lead to more self-harm and stuff.

Next month John and I will be in Thailand and in some ways I fear being confronted with all the beautiful ladyboys there. I know I will envy them. Before we go there I will go to see a surgeon in Poland who obviously doesn’t care if I’m not trans and maybe after the holidays in Thailand I might finally come to a decision due to boobies. For a while now I find it hard to deal with the impulse to cut or otherwise hurt my flat chest, but John keeps telling me that if I add scars to the scars I already have, it might keep doctors from wanting to perform surgery on me. Yeah, I know he’s right, but anway, it’s hard. Especially when John denies to hurt me because he thinks I’m too open or vulnerable.

 

Rewards

For a while now John and I draw a lot of pleasure from letting other men, preferably older man, use me. When we were in Greece he allowed a guy to fuck me in return for a Coke, and I still get turned on by the thought of that. Every once in a while John takes me to gay dogging spots near us where I get used by as many blokes as possible. If I manage to cum by getting fucked it’s nice, if not it doesn’t matter to John.

Over the years I have struggled an awful lot with the fact that I get turned on when I get used as the whore I am and I guess with what my father did it’s no real surprise at all. But with John who is always there to take care for me I feel it’s safe to be a whore. Moreover, since he’s in my life I really insist on safer sex (but still I love to swallow and have cum all over me).

For him it’s obviously a kick to have me fucked like a whore, like it doesn’t matter. It’s a nice training for me to be at service, always available, always willing and not allowed to say no. He likes to be in charge and he loves to humiliate me by making me feel worthless. And I totally love being used by whoever wants to fuck me. Perfect match.

Now he had an adorable idea. He gave me a sort of list with several columns. If I make him cum with my mouth, I get a point and for five points, I get a sticker. 20 stickers, then this column is done. If I make him cum by fucking me, I get a point and for 5 points, I get a sticker. 25 stickers and this column is done, too. If I make a stranger cum either with my mouth or by letting him fuck me, I get a point as well. 3 points make 1 sticker and I need 20 stickers to complete the list. As soon as the list is completed, he will pay me with a Pandora bead for my bracelet. This way I can wear my sluttiness πŸ™‚

Lately he was thinking about restricting other things like sweets or so and have me earn them by tasks. I totally love this idea!

I Don’t Like Horses :)

Today I wore my new pendant at work. One of our customers looked at it and said (in German) “I didn’t know you like horses”. I just replied “I don’t”. LOL I totally love these adorable moments when BDSM-lifestyle and normal people meet each other πŸ™‚

When you’ve been here for longer, you know that I still struggle with my kinks (if you want to read more about it, try this). Recently I’ve been talking a lot about BDSM with my therapist. He’s not always been been too supportive of my lifestyle, but in the past few months and after a sort of fight we had about it, he tries to be a bit more open-minded. To be honest, I have considered going to another therapist, but there aren’t too many in the area I live in and most of them have you waiting for months and months before they even want to talk to you (even f you pay privately like I do anyway).

I have tried to work hard on my judgements over myself, but I still feel like there are at least three or four versions of me, perhaps even more. Though I know they are only parts of my self, sometimes they feel like they have their own body and personality. Blaubeermann is the nice guy from next door, helpful, polite, the “worker” and “maintainer”. Ginny is the cute girl, she’s shy and silly and funny, she needs a lot of love and cuddles. Ginny’s dark side is Gina, the dog whore. And I guess the dark side of Blaubeermann doesn’t even have a name. He’s the part of me I fear most, though he brings me a lot of pleasure. He’s the one who would allow John to kill him, and he’s connected with the most painful, disgusting and dangerous things.

Additionly there may be some other parts of me, like the Yoga guy or the girl who is W’s best friend. I don’t know.

Well, what I intended to say: I have really started to appreciate the different parts of me and that BDSM is a kind of therapy for me. I know I couldn’t share it with most people who consider themselves Doms (because they are not dominant enough, eventually), but I can share it with John. And I totally love the way BDSM is present in my everyday life.

 

Sissygasms And A Present

From the beginning of September on I’ve been locked in again. John had told me that I wouldn’t be allowed to cum until the end of this year as a punishment for a Sissygasm I had when a guy fucked me. If you’ve been reading my blog for a while you might know that it took me ages and an awful lot of practise to experience an orgasm just from being fucked without any direct stimulation. But now as my body has accomplished to cum without my clit getting stroked once, I’m obviously able to experience Sissygasms more regularly if not each and every time I get fucked. That’s amazing and I totally love it!

The problem was of course that John had told me I wasn’t allowed to cum, but he kept using me daily. Of course he witnessed that I had to struggle not to cum and at a certain point he really loved to push me over the edge. I felt bad about it, but I was surprised when he cuddled me afterwards and told me what a good gurl I was. I was like, uhm, really? Obviously my sweet husband loves the fact that I’m able to cum like a girl now, just from being fucked. So I’m a lucky gurl and am allowed to have Sissygasms, but still no orgasms from touching my clit. Isn’t that beautiful? I love it!

Yesterday when he came home from work, he had brought a present with him. Wrapped in pink paper πŸ™‚ It was a little pendant, a little horse, with a chain. He put it around my neck. I exactly knew what this meant. Do you know as well? πŸ™‚

Not Being Seen

Last weekend, I went out with my crossdressing friend Andrea, W and M, because John had to work overhours. It was the first time I’ve been to a disco in many, many years and I have avoided having to dance my whole life through. I was nervous, because I went as Ginny. I wanted to look naturally and not like a discoqueen, so I just put on discreet make up and I wore jeans and a shirt. I feared not being allowed to enter the club, but we had no problems with getting in. Inside, W got us drinks and we stood around for a while, until Andrea wanted to dance. She persuaded me to join her. Again I feared harrassment, but everyone seemed to be fine with us being around. It took me so much, but after the first dance I loved it! I had only wished John would have been there. He wouldn’t have trusted his eyes πŸ˜€

After a while, we returned to the bar and ordered drinks, and when Andrea had finished hers, she went back to the dancefloor, but I wanted to rest another moment. A man came over to me. He had danced near us and now asked me whether he could invite me to a drink. I said he might. We talked or rather shouted at each other and after he while we danced with each other and just had fun. I could clearly sense he liked me and I liked him, too, because he was kind and sweet.

I excused me and went to the toilets. I texted John about that man and he just texted back “enjoy yourself, but no cumming”. You know, I still don’t have the Birdlock on and he controls me, but in that moment I just thought how much I missed my cage…

I returned to that man and we chatted, danced and drank some more (I switched to juice because I don’t tolerate alcohol that well). I didn’t stop him when he tried to kiss me and when he asked me whether I would accompany him outside, I said yes. When we came out of the club, I was deaf πŸ™‚ He had his car down the street and drove us to a quiet spot in that area. I told him that I needed to tell him something, and he just said “I know you’re not a real girl….”. We had to laugh, and I explained that he was right, but that that wasn’t actually what I was talking about. I explained to him that I am owned and in chastity, though I don’t wear a device right now. I could see how much he liked that. He said how amazing that was and if that meant that I was just to take care of him and that he wouldn’t have to satisfy me. Well, yes. He got really aroused by that thought and it didn’t take long to make him cum for the first time. Later, I let him fuck me outside the car and it was so intense that I edged several times. You know, after not being able to cum by being fucked alone for a long time, I now am able to have Sissygasms from penetration alone, and in fact they’re really intense.

He just kept fucking me and the whole stimulation and situation somehow pushed me over the edge. When I felt it cumming, I knew it was wrong, but on the other hand I didn’t want it to stop. It was just too good. Later, he brought me back to the club where me spend a little more time with each other. When Andrea, W and M wanted to go, I told him goodbye and we didn’t exchange our numbers.

When I came home, John was already asleep, so I went to have a shower and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

The next morning, I was awake before John and snuggled up beside him. I knew I had to tell him and when he woke up, I did. First, he didn’t reply in any way and I feared he would yell at me or be disappointed. But suddely he smiled and pet my hair. If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you know that a smiling, gentle John is most times more likely to be cruel than a yelling John, so I expected the worst. And it came. He still stroke my hair when he said with his calm, kind voice: “Sweetie, you’ve been a good gurl telling me you failed. I appreciate that”. He kissed me on my forehead. “But you have failed so miserable that I feel it is my duty to help you back on track. Today you go back into the Birdlock. No cumming until the end of this year. Hearty congratulation, honey”.

I could say whatever I wanted, he didn’t react to any of my explainations or excuses and just told me to bring him the device. He locked me back in and that’s it now. No cumming anymore this year.

Of course I’m sad about that and I know this will be very, very hard, but on the other hand that experience was simply beautiful. I was so afraid of being harrassed out there as Ginny, but I just had a nice night, and of course it was amazing being wanted as a gurl. I think I pass very well now and if I want it, I pass unseen. What more could I wish for? I mean, except from being allowed to cum? πŸ˜€

 

Little Treats

Yesterday when Master returned home, he had brought ice cream from our local parlour with him. Sometimes we take a walk there in the evening after dinner, but because was was early yesterday he had decided to stop there on his way home. He brought the package to our porch, unwrapped it…and smashed my ice on the dirty floor.

“What’cha waiting for?” he asked me. So I knelt down and licked my ice from the floor. It was a bit dusty and crunchy, but nice anyway.

Ah, those summer treats πŸ™‚