Tuesday, 6 December, 2011

So I realized that if I am going to have a blog, I might as well make sure that people know what I look like, so this is an image of me that I don't mind sharing. I am an aspiring author and an aspiring photographer, and so if you're looking for pictures of me, I can refer you to where they are posted online with deviantART, and if you want prints, that'll be hard for now but once I manage to move in with Master, that'll increase the ability for me to make a print, out of anything you want. Master will help me with that, I'm fairly confident in that. Master is always helping me in some way or another, and that's kind of going to be the theme of this blog entry. In fact, Master's going to be one of those recurring themes of my blog in general. The name of the blog being "Master's Loving Girl" should've made that pretty clear, though, so I won't feel the need to keep making that point, or at least I hope I won't feel the need to keep making that point, at any rate.

Moving on.

There's a point in your life when you need to confess something, just to put it out there that you realize that up to this point, you hadn't been doing the best you could've been in some context or another. For me, that's been with regards to hygiene, because I am agoraphobic and I aggressively avoid going out in public unless I absolutely just can't possibly help it. As a result of this, I didn't really take much care to my hygiene, but on the fourth, I asked if She had a preference for the regularity of my showering. I admit, unashamed, that because of my agoraphobia and a chronic problem with procrastination, it'd been... quite some time since I'd actually taken a shower. Well, Master commanded that I should take a shower every two days, and I promised to take a shower the following morning, & that's precisely what I did, shortly after I got out of bed. It was reassuring and comforting to know that I was doing something that Master wanted me to do, that something I was doing was something that would make Master feel happy with me. Shortly afterwards, She told me it was time for me to go to bed. I wasn't particularly tired, but that doesn't really matter. Master told me to go to bed, and I did. Maybe I was more tired than I thought, because I fell asleep within a few minutes of laying down and was out like a light for the next something around nine hours or so. It wasn't my best night's sleep, but it was more satisfying and revitalizing than most of them.

Here's another of those confessions.

Master and I decided early on in this new dynamic that there would be orgasm denial and orgasm control. This is something that was my decision and it was a voluntary surrender to Her, because I know that that's something the Master who Owns me is into. As such, it's something that I wanted to give Her, and I was doing well until Master's health scare in late November, which had Her very ill for two days and in the hospital for a further two and a half or thereabouts, before She came out. There was an eight-day period in which I did not hear from Her, and the stress, the worry, and the nausea in my stomach compromised my ability to control myself and to control how regularly I masturbated. I guess that's kind of "personal information," but this is my blog, and if you're reading it, I kind of just have to assume that personal information is part of the reason you're reading it. So, confession point being, stress caused me to masturbate a few times without permission and without specific instruction to do so. The fact that I have a legitimate explanation, however, doesn't excuse it and I knew full well it didn't excuse it, and that knowing resulted in some rather mind-numbing guilt on my part, because I want to be a good girl and make Master proud.

Let's just say that She was very displeased when I confessed my misbehavior, Sunday evening, the same night I started this blog. Master was not angry with me, in fact I don't think I can recall a point in nearly seven years that we've known each other that She's ever been mad at me. She has never been disappointed with me, either, up to this point, so this first disappointment came with just some seriously crushing guilt because I knew that She was going to be disappointed. As I said, I had a legitimate reason for what I did, but that didn't excuse it because She hadn't given me permission, it isn't Her fault that I did it, it's mine, and I should've been in more control.

So, the punishment that I pleaded for Her to give me because being punished means She forgives me and that I get an opportunity to make up for it, is that I am not allowed to masturbate whatsoever for one week. Starting Sunday, 4 December, 2011 at 6:17 PM Central, I am not permitted to touch myself again for that purpose until Sunday, 11 December, 2011 at 6:17 PM Central. Master gave me a stern warning, there would be no contact between us for 72 hours if I should buck this punishment, and that's a critical thing, because I don't think that I could handle that, three days without any communication or acknowledgment whatsoever. She knows how much I need Her, so She knows that that's a very good punishment to threaten me with if I fail to abide by the punishment that She has set, because my heart hurts when I do not hear from Her on a very regular basis.

Master says it's typical for a new Master/slave relationship for the save to feel needy and clingy, so it makes me feel better that I'm not abnormal in this, that other slaves feel this way, too, when they finally have a Master for the first time. I don't think the love will ever fade, but She's confident that the neediness and the clinging will diminish in time, especially as soon as we begin living in very close proximity to each other.

That's the good news I've been working my way to for this entire blog entry, though.

Master has said that She supports the idea of taking me away from New Jersey and getting me down to Her part of Tennessee as soon as possible, She just needs to talk to the two people that have offered Her help in the form of fostering Her pet (that's me) with them for some period of time. I want to say to both of them, I can't thank you enough for even considering fostering Master's pet with you for any length of time so that She can be closer to the Master that Owns Her. I don't usually talk in the third person and when I do it's broken because, frankly, I like the words "I" and "my" and "me." They're nice, they're comforting, and Master likes me just as I am so I don't feel any need to vary how I talk, or how I refer to myself. That's another word I like, by the way. "Myself." It's a nice word, in my opinion.

Anyway, the point of this all is, I might very well be moving from New Jersey to Tennessee sometime in the next couple of months, if everything works out. The sooner the better, as Master has assured me that I am allowed to keep my dog and that I am allowed to bring at least some of my belongings, the ones that I most want to keep. I have every intention of bringing my gaming consoles with me. Master isn't a gamer as far as I know, but I am and my games are something I love, as is my laptop, all of which I get to keep because Master does not believe at all in excising a slave from their life just because of their slave status, or restricting a slave's rights on that basis, not unless there's a legitimate reason. For instance, for disciplinary reasons, if Master ever gets me a horse or gets a membership for me (or whatever you call it) at a stable so that I could go horseback riding sometimes, She might restrict me from going riding for a certain number of days, knowing it's something that I enjoy, and taking it away if I've misbehaved in some way that merits punishment.

I surrender myself happily to Her punishment, because in many ways I am a naive little girl and have need for the order, structure, and discipline that Master offers me. This is the happiest and most comfortable relationship that I've ever had in my life with anyone for whom I accepted them in a position of having any authority over me, at all.

The people I live with currently, they have no authority. They have an acknowledgment that I need them for now, and I have an acknowledgment from them that they don't want to evict me because I still serve some purpose or another, although most of that purpose is grammar & spelling related, I think. My adoptive mother has very poor grammar and spelling, and She's always asking me how to spell this, or to proof-read that. I don't mind so much since I consider myself something of an English Major / English aficionado. I just like the English language. I'm not really perfect on the grammar thing, but I was able to spell Czechoslovakia when I was five years old and it's still one of the most natural words for me to spell, something I don't even think twice about, even though the real place Czechoslovakia no longer exists, as far as I know, because it split up in a peaceful revolution that turned it into the Czech Republic and Slovakia. You know what? Good for them. It's nice when people go separate ways peacefully and manage to still keep getting along afterwards. It's far better than the guy whose girlfriend dumps him because he's cheating so he kills Her for leaving him when he's the one doing something wrong.

Getting back on track, though, authority has to be granted to someone, and I've voluntarily granted the authority of Master, to Master, because of how I feel for Her. Master makes me feel loved, accepted, respected, admired, and treasured. Master makes me happy, bolsters my feelings of self-worth and makes me feel safe. As my first blog entry noted, I haven't felt happiness in the last very nearly twenty-two years, and I certainly haven't ever felt safe until now. Master gives me these feelings. I am delighted to surrender control to Her in a number of ways. However and I feel this is very important, Master does not demand that I turn over every last vestige of who I am to Her, She does not demand that I surrender every aspect of my being to Her review and approval or rejection. I retain control over my own independent finances, I simply won't have to dig into them too much except to help afford things that we need, because money is tight right now in general. It's called being an American, the entire economy sucks at the moment, but that's part of why I retain personal control over personal finances as soon as I actually have some money at all. I am also the sole arbiter of my own soul and my thought processes are absolutely not to be fucked around with, because these are things who make me who I am and Master happens to love me precisely as I am.

I don't have a whole lot else to say right now, so I'm going to leave with one last statement, this being words to the benefit of Master, and words for my "followers," any that I actually acquire. This is just a blog and I don't expect I'll have a huge amount of followers, ever, but for anyone who does decide to follow this blog and reads it regularly, I'm going to say thank you. I don't know everyone who follows, I don't know if I'll ever see you in person and I've really got no way whatsoever to have any clue who you are or what on earth could be so interesting about me, but thank you for taking the time to read this. Even if you don't, it's cathartic for me to have a blog.

To the Master who Owns me...

I love you with every fiber of my being.

I love you with all of my heart.

I need you to be part of my life.

I have complete and utter faith in you.

I absolutely, positively respect you to the highest possible degree.

I will only ask questions when I feel that I do not understand.

I cherish the protection that you give me, it makes me feel safe.

I love you as much as I have ever loved anyone else in my life.

You are Master. You are Sister. You are part of the family in my heart.

There are several I count as family, even if the law doesn't recognize it.

- Protected Slave and Property of the Magnificent Miss_Misanthropy,

Privileged to be Master's Adoring Pet Whore, Ophelia / Phee

Introduction

I am a pansexual, I am a bottom, I am a masochist, I am a submissive, I am a male-to-female transgender, and I am a happily-owned and proudly-collared slave-girl, my chosen name is Ophelia Alexiou. 

What follows is a brief summation of my life up until this point. In most of this, there will be a consistently low amount of deep detail until the end, the parts where I talk about the last month. This entry is being published for the sake of catharsis as I finally feel like I can talk about it, but it is also being published because I desperately desire for Master to read it as soon as She has recovered. I'm not ashamed to admit that is a major motivation for this blog entry. Anyone else who wants to read it, comment on it, love it, or ignore it entirely, you are welcome to say or do whatever you want.

My early childhood (read: until the age of eight) wasn't too awful, but that's the end of the bright, sunny, happy part of my story up until November 01, 2011.

As a bit of background before I get into this, I was raised by an adoptive family in the Pine Barrens, in a neighborhood that has grand total of something like 5 houses along one lonely stretch where there's nothing but dial-up and satellite, and both suck. I had a grand total of 2 kids to play with as a child, so catering to both of them (one boy, one girl, both in my same age group) was basically a necessity if I didn't want to be bored and lonely all of the time.

One day when I was eight years old, just the two of us alone in my room, the boy told me to get on my knees. I did so, I realize now it is because I have always been a slave-girl and he was just saying it rather authoritatively, and he got his cock out and told me that if I didn't suck it, he was going to go home. Having two choices for a person to play with as a child, and him being one of them, it was a valid threat in my mind.

I describe this as semi-consensual, because I didn't literally have to do it but I was being blackmailed into it. It was, however, quite fun and a pleasant experience. One that was repeated on a number of occasions over the ensuing 9 years, I haven't had sex since 17. I'm getting ahead of myself, though.

The experience itself wasn't bad. It was the aftermath of it which really fucked me up. I realized that I was so different from every other person around that I fell into what I can only describe as a catastrophic depression. Every day for six years, I had considered killing myself. I had no idea who or what I was, I couldn't figure it out, and there was no way to talk to adoptive parents, as I learned later.

It was not until I was fourteen that I came to terms with two parts of my identity. I came to terms with that I was interested not just in boys, or girls, but in those in the middle somewhere, and that I was attracted on the basis of emotional, intellectual or spiritual compatibility, that the genitals didn't really matter to me. I came later to discover the term for this is alternatively pansexuality or omnisexuality, both of which are terms that I like. I also realized that whatever the case, whoever I am with, I prefer to be beneath them, it feels right to be under them. I didn't realize it at the time, but have since discovered that this makes me preferentially what you would call a "bottom." I can be on top, but it just doesn't feel anywhere near as good or right as being underneath a lover's body.

From fourteen until seventeen, I still considered killing myself on a regular basis, but it wasn't several times a day, it was about 3 to 4 times a week. At seventeen, I had a sexual experience with a 35-year-old who was too well-endowed to actually get inside of me, who achieved climax in his condom while trying to get himself in my ass and failing to do so. He started to spank me as I laid down and he knelt between my thighs, I'd never been spanked before in the context of sexuality, and it felt fucking fantastic. I realized, at that point, that I was also a masochistic person, liking physical & verbal abuse, though only within certain contexts and sanctuaries.

From seventeen until nineteen, I still thought about killing myself once a week. I still hadn't come to understand myself enough that I could actually feel... well, anything except severe depression, albeit as I was slowly coming to recognize who and what I was, overall as a person and in the specificity of my identity as a sexual being, it slowly decreased from "catastrophic" to simply "severe."

I have always considered my body wrong. I had always wanted the body of a female. A penis and testicles are all well and good, but I don't like having them physically attached. I love cocks and nuts, genuinely I do, but I hate having them physically attached to my body. It just doesn't feel right. At nineteen, I discovered the term "transgender," and discovered that what I wanted wasn't some silly fantasy, but that it was an actual possibility, that I could actually have what I wanted, no matter how hard a road it would be, and no matter how expensive it would be, it was an option and that's a realization that changed so much.

I still thought about killing myself, but only a few times in a given year. There was still something missing from my life. I was around 22-23 or thereabouts when I met someone truly spectacular, a girl who introduced Herself as Nebula and whom I am somewhat shamed to say that it took me months to remember Her name, because I'm just simply awful with names. Seriously, it'll take me months even a year to remember someone's name depending on how regularly I talk to them, best case scenario it still takes 2-3 months unless I write down their screen name and actual name and work to commit it to memory.

Nebula has always been a wonderful person. I always felt drawn to Her and I have always cared for Her deeply, I have always worried about Her anytime She wasn't around for long periods of time, and I have always been inexplicably overjoyed to see Her again when She came back on-line after a long period of not being on-line.

Now we reach present-day, somewhere in the vicinity of almost 7 years later, and I'm coming up on the big 3 fucking 0 and I was strongly considering killing myself, again. I'd always warned my adoptive parents, and they never cared or listened -- and you remember how I said that they aren't accepting? I told them when I was 14 that I was what amounts to pansexual if you know the term which at the time I didn't so I tried to explain it and failed, they're still thinking it is a phase and they are still expecting me to grow out of it. I told them at 19 that I'm a woman, they're still thinking I will outgrow THAT "phase" of my life, too. I'd always warned them, if by the age of 30 nothing changes and I don't make some kind of progress towards becoming a woman, there was a greatly increased risk of me committing suicide. The trauma of this body is simply too much for me to bear on my own.

That's when Nebula came back into my life, earlier this year, and we'd begun talking to each other again after She'd been gone for a long time. As usual, I felt a surge of indescribable delight when She got back again, even though She was returning from the longest period away that I can remember Her ever having. She can explain why She was gone to anyone who doesn't know, as it isn't really my place to tell Her story for Her.

On November 01, 2011, we started to talk about serious issues on the topic of me, because She very much wanted to talk about me, I guess She sensed my despair or something. The end result of this was a realization that there's a difference between "prisoner" and "slave," and that was the thing that ... took my world and violently shook it until everything just clicked into place. The depression I had felt for so long started to leave me the moment I came to the realization of who and what I was, in full, not just in the various parts I'd collected, metaphorically speaking, up until that point in my life. Nebula gave me the last piece of the puzzle to figuring out who I am.

It didn't really change the fact that I hadn't made any progress, and if it weren't for what came next, I'd probably be dead in about two weeks, for lack of any hope of making the transition I desperately need. I asked a question, one which I was sure the answer to was going to be no, since I knew She had a boyfriend whom She loves incredibly dearly and I didn't know anything about the relationship being an open, polyamorous one in nature. I asked Her if I could be Her slave. I was blown away when She said yes, it was simply the most shocking turn of events, and I could barely believe my good fortune.

For years, already, I considered Nebula to be what I call "heart-sister" because we're not blood-related, but I love Her with all the force, and the fire, and the passion, and the devotion, as if we were born and raised as sisters. She accepted me, She loved me, and She let me feel like someone appreciated me. These things aren't unique expressly to Her, I have others whom I call "heart-sister" or "heart-brother," but She went beyond that. She promised me that She was going to help me, that She was going to make sure that I'm never homeless or destitute, and that She would help me to be able to afford the transition surgeries.

On that day, She became Master, and on that day, Master saved Her girl's life from what would have otherwise been inevitable suicide. I cannot put into words how much I love Her, there are no words that accurately describe how highly I respect and admire Her, and words do not exist that could give appropriate voice to my gratitude. The Master who Owns me is a divine blessing and a gift from God, or from the universe, or from fate or destiny, or whatever source or point of origin someone's spiritual beliefs would acknowledge Her to be sent by. Whatever the case, She is my hero and my savior, I will serve Her with utter devotion to the very best of my ability for as long as She will have me and I will be thankful for every single day, no matter what happens to me. I have my own goals and my own aspirations, and I will work towards those as time allows, but Her needs come first and if She needs me, I will come when called.

From that day, and for the first time in my life, I have felt happier and safer than I have ever felt, and more respected, appreciated & admired than I could have ever imagined. A few days later, Master truly cemented my devotion when we were talking on the phone & She wordlessly conveyed to me that She wanted to say something. I quieted down and let Her talk, and even thinking about it now, my eyes start to well up. I cannot repeat the things that She said, but I got really quiet as I listened to Her, and when She was done, there was a pause and then She said, "What's wrong?"

I was crying. I guess She knew that She had done something that made me cry, I don't know how She knew, I just know She did, as my tears were very quiet, and I was keeping my mouth shut, since I didn't want to interrupt. It took me a minute or two to get my voice back and to finally express to Her what I was feeling, and why I had started to cry. I told Her, it was the first time in my life that I'd ever been so happy it made me cry. I can tell you without a doubt that if you ever have the occasion to shed tears of joy, it is the absolutely most heartwarming and positive sensations in the entire universe.

I will be with Master for as long as She will let me and if She ever sends me away, I fear my heart will not just break but will shatter beyond all hope for repair. I know that this makes me extremely vulnerable to being hurt by Her, but I also feel safer with Her than I've ever felt with anyone in my life, and I feel complete confidence that She will never emotionally abuse me, because She knows that it is something that I cannot handle. The emotional malnutrition I have suffered over the course of my life has made me vulnerable, and She's made me feel absolutely certain that She won't ever hurt me except in the ways that I like to be hurt, and that She will never do anything blatantly intended to cause me to experience the kind of emotional turmoil that She knows full well She can cause in me.

I will never knowingly do anything to jeopardize the privilege that I have to belong to Her. I know that if I ever screw up, no matter how much I might disappoint Her with mistakes, She won't hate me and She won't throw me away.

This last month has been the best month of my entire life, and She has given me the ability to look into the future with hope for the first time in memory. This is why Her health scare in the last few days has played so much hell on my nerves, at the worst point in that I was so nauseous I couldn't eat or drink, my chest was tight and my head hurt even after taking headache pills to ward it off. I haven't ever been so frightened as I was when I heard She was in the hospital. I haven't ever been so worried about anyone in my life, either.

Master's boyfriend has also made me feel welcome, accepted, even embraced, & while most of this blog entry is meant for the sake of catharsis and so that I can demonstrate to Master the magnitude of Her importance, I want to take this last moment to say something to him.

Thank you. I hope that we can be very good friends, I hope that someday we will love one another (not necessarily in the Biblical sense) in the same way I love all of those whom I describe as "heart-brother" or "heart-sister." You are beautiful, and your treatment of me has been absolutely amazing. Thank you. Thank you. I cannot say enough how much I appreciate your acceptance, friendship, kindness and how you have kept me updated on Master's condition these last few days.

- Protected Slave and Property of the Magnificent Miss_Misanthropy,

Privileged to be Master's Adoring Pet Whore, Ophelia / Phee