Humiliation Hilltop

Denial, in S&M, is slap Orgasm to the front and you have a topic of control. Yet what if I were to say to the one being denied they should rejoice in this grand gesture! That's right, I treasure the denial. But how can you have sex and no orgasm and keep serving? Well…probably due to my identification of being a slave but truly it is who I am.

The orgasm I enjoy comes from the head, His that is. Have you ever felt the pressure to have an orgasm? We don’t talk about that, the actual pressure the one who has to orgasm is going through. As much as this bodily function is fun it takes concentration and thought. In French it is called ‘a little death’ and aptly so. You build up with intensity the release and when the release occurs as we all know you don’t exactly jump out of bed. Hell, most men get railed for turning over and falling asleep. My orgasm denial gives me energy. Why?

I have no end game. I am not waiting for mine and worried about me. I am not clock watching to get mine and get out. I have done that form of sex and it is not for me. I am completely focused on Him. I take my joy from every moment I have in worship and wonder. I sink into Him and disappear. I feel His every breath, twitch, moan, and maneuver. Even the ‘how the fuck can he go soft’ move that drives me nuts. See, when He slows His body down i.e. goes soft, it is a cue to slow myself down, not wind up. He is seeking cuddles and cravings of His own and what slave would I be to ignore the obvious. 

This is when I get to let loose. I can kiss, cradle, and feel all of Him. And I mean beyond the penis. Yes, your Owner, as mine, has more than one sexual organ - they have a whole body, a smorgasbord of tantalizing sessions that can be created. If you think only a female has extra sensitive inner thighs, I suggest you tickle His fancy and see the flex that rises. I could be massaging His feet after a long day and lock my lips on His toes and give Him pleasure. I treasure when I sit and rub His legs, I fucking love His legs, with oil and release the tension of the day from what has kept Him up all day. I please His ears with silence. Yes, your silence can make your Top excited. Imagine all day your Top bombarded with responsibility wanting to be able to hear nothing. Does not sound so far-fetched now does it? Have you never hid in the bathroom for five minutes of quiet…

Once in a blue Moon the Owner will tell me to orgasm and instantly, I do. It takes no physical contact from Him or me to happen. I burst and I hate it. I get dizzy, I soak the sheets, and it takes me a moment to recalibrate and refocus. I do not like being distracted from feeling Him in full. Let me give a lesser example, He likes if I rub my crotch on His leg while giving head, it gives Him pleasure. I hate it so much you have no clue. My brain feels split. I want to solely focus on Him not feel me and when I have to concentrate on my lower half I go internally bonkers. I do it for Him happily and I literally suck it up. My heart wants to feel and soak Him in, my brain is like what the fuck is your crotch doing and why. Maybe that comes from understanding how that could cause me an orgasm and I do not want one. And trust me when I catch my mind fearing my body trying to get off I can tell you I lose complete focus and get pissed. He seriously does it because He knows it fucks with me, go figure a sadist can think of shit the masochist would not.

Sexual denial is sexual gratification. I love mine! I have no thoughts of another, I do not bore in worship, and I do not ever see this changing. That is a good thing. I have freedom to feel what many may misinterpret as a reason to cheat. I am fully satisfied and aroused every time I serve the Owner. I am like a kid in a candy store waiting to taste His salty sweet everything. When He says long day, my mind is like oh I am gonna lick every drop of salt up from His crevices with anticipation. It is a challenge and one I adore. And yes, He gets the grand service of laying back and soaking it all in. 

Sex, as any rope bunny knows who spends hours being tied up, is about feeling and the kinetic energy the two are creating. Now I won’t profess to know more than that about rope play because honestly other than some tied up tits it is not our thing. I have seen shows and the looks the two are giving one another I know very well. It is a deep connection of love and passion that needs no words. I am sure every form of BDSM is true in this aspect as that is what we all have in common - a very deep mental energetic connection that surpasses the physical act of hole meets pole. 

I think most Tops would agree they use some form of denial in some way - food, orgasm, tv, clothes, etc. Every Top has their bag of tricks and so do we bottoms. We can either look at this denial as a negative and pout our way through or relish the deed and embrace the denial that births the craving. Does this mean I never ‘get-off’? I have sub-dropped for twelve hours, you tell me. I get-off every time I see Him. I can get-off thinking about seeing Him. Like I said He can speak and make me explode, meaning my mind is so tuned in I at times wonder who is up there running the show. I can be under the weather, have a headache, or have just had the worst workday possible, and His presence alone makes me feel better - and a tummy full of cum and piss is my favorite meal for bedtime.

Denial is definitely not just a river in Egypt, I’m Jewish remember I did the Exodus! I love being able to focus on Him and not worry - it is my orgasm. My mental faculties have to not just feel but know that He is pleased and satisfied. If I sense anything is off it ravages me from the inside out and back in. Maybe this is how BDSM has evolved into so many sub-categories. We have babies, pets, piggies, and…., yet in all aspects we mentally feel safe and secure with our partner. We can gather in freaky fun and respect the varieties. If we are smart, we should pay attention to those who are different, they can teach us something.  If we want to continue to evolve, we need to talk about the changes we face as a community. Our power as a community to treasure mental over physical is a superpower. One the world will sadly always challenge as being brainless, ironic. So, stay kinky and true, embrace your denial whether you're the Sadistic Top getting a giggle or the bottom basking in its glory.

The day has begun. The cold concrete floor beneath and a raveled blanket are all that cover the slave shivering on the floor. A chain latched to the collar is all that allowed rest. As the door opened and feet approached, the only rising done was kneeling and awaiting what was coming.

As the Sir entered, the feet were of those that slave knew would come with force to wake. Yet, as the chain released, slave knew to remain still. The whip crashed and ripped into the slave's back, and as tears rolled her cheeks, her body remained arch and braced to take another. Yet kindly was just one blow before being given the daily orders.

How to dress never being decided by a mear slave the Sir instructed to dress and with what. Hair always pulled back in a ponytail, collar and cuffs on ankles and wrists were standard attire. Handed heels, a maids dress with tits exposed, and a skirt exposing the ass and cunt was the choice for the day.

Once dressed, returning to kneel for inspection, the slave was checked for cleanliness and to ensure attire was pleasing. As he grabbed her hair and shoved his cock down her throat, there was no resistance. Chocking and slobbering, he released his load down her throat and said to enjoy the breakfast given. In silence, thanks to a nod, a slave on their way to begin their chores.

Crawling from cell to the home floors off to the kitchen and starting breakfast was in order. 

Then, prepping, cleaning, and precisely prepping the Sirs and Masters meals began. This slave may be cooking, yet other slaves were about to start their day and chores as well. While preparing the food, the steps of a Sir approached, and the slave quickly dropped to her knees.

A ruthless strike of the fist against the flesh. Funishment, not punishment, a sadist's release and pleasure in being a sadist. Upon finishing, the slave bowed in thanks and waited for permission to start cooking again. As the body was pulsating in pain and wounds began to rise slave continued her work without anger. Upon finishing breakfast cooking, another slave helped place the food at the seats.

With breakfast waiting, the two slaves sat knelt in corners, ensuring all needs served. Be it a coffee refill or cock suck. Breakfast had many choices. The slaves kneeling in silence, prohibited from speaking to one another, let alone to a Sir or Master. In silence, we could pass one another and be covered in marks and dressed in various ways with nothing but a silent gaze of gratitude towards one another.

Breakfast completed slaves were brought together for all to see any punishment of another's failing. Constantly reminded of place and proper choices if one slave fell, all slaves witnessed the reminder. Punishment was nothing to jest at for slaves, and they serve as savage reminders. This morning a new slave to the home had spoken to another slave and was set to suffer.

The punishment room was tormenting just for all slaves. Machines of medical minds and set to stay there for the day for all to see no slave sought to see this room.  The slave was hung from the ceiling by her wrists. When the Whip Master arrived, every slave shuttered in fear.  The Whip Master's talent and joy in using the whip can crack open flesh with every strike. Blood fell, and without restraint, the slave had no chance of standing of their own will.

As the slave dangled in tears, the instruction was simple, count each strike and make no other noise. The ability to not scream in pain or beg for mercy was the challenge. If the slave failed, the count started again. The number ten never seemed so impossible. Making it to strike two, the slave shrieked and begged to end the punishment. As a new slave, there was no mercy given. After a fifth restart, the whip Master muzzled the slave and sent ten whips against her flesh.

For failure, she would remain hung and displayed to beat throughout the day. The day would stir all the Sir's souls. All knew it would be a long day. As this slave began cleaning the kitchen, the Sirs went about their day, and Master of the home wandered his halls. When completing the meticulous cleaning of the kitchen, this slave knelt by the entry as the silent sign to have it inspected before being allowed to begin the next chore.

At times this could be a few minutes to hours of patience and poise. Trained slaves had higher expectations and more savage suffering for minor failures. Sitting silent staring at the grout and crevices, ensuring no spots or dust formed is all that trapped the mind. Without concern for appearance or hood that concealed the face, it sat limited and alive.

• Humility is an appreciation of oneself, talents, skills, and virtues. 
• Headspace is your mindset. 
• Humiliation is the abasement of pride, which creates a state of being humbled or reduced to lowliness or submission. It is an emotion a person feels whose social status, either by force or willingly, has just decreased.  
• Hope is an optimistic state of mind based on an expectation of positive outcomes for events and circumstances in one's life or the world. As a verb, its definitions include: "expect with confidence" and "to cherish a desire with anticipation." It is an anticipatory emotion.

The Four-H chambers hold our life force, as do the four chambers of our very heart.  On our left side, restraint and justice bear humility and humiliation. On our right side, expansiveness and love contain headspace and hope. The parallel process is the learning journey in #slavelife. Now let me introduce you to four children you need to know:

• The 'Wise' child searches for depth and meaning to find hidden connections and spiritual truths.
• The 'Wicked' child whose rebellious nature requires detailed explanations for everything and demands to know the relevancy for their own life.
• The 'Simple' child smiles, saying, 'tell me what to do, and I'll do it.' This child wants to know how but not why and finds deep comfort in the rituals themselves.
• The 'Dummy' hungers for knowledge but doesn't know where to begin - one who doesn't know enough to ask a question.

We all have these four children inside us! Indeed, one child may seem to get more attention, but they all exist. When we embrace our four corners, we find the literal, the hints, the morals, and the secrets. The sweet emotions of sexuality are complex. When we are told to walk this way or talk this way by our Top, we relinquish our power utilizing humility, headspace, and humiliation while depositing into the Bank of Hope. Have you been to the bank?

5 C's of Credit

• Capacity
• Capital
• Collateral
• Conditions
• Character

What have you done to ensure your credit rating creates your world? Or did you file for bankruptcy and still expect to get credit? I have no desire to wait for the seven-year cycle to serve my Owner. I have to use all four corners and stay centered on seeing that a trip to the bank may seem insignificant as the deposit may only be a dollar, but one day that dollar will grow to two. There are no IOUs in-service, yet your Sadist may use them to maintain your spirit. 

The totality signifies unlimited and ever-blossoming booty in the bank. When we balance our instincts with these four facets, our yearnings in service become self-actualization.  The heights intertwined in our conscious deeds create a credit unsurpassed. A heart wise is humility, a heart wicked is a humiliation, a heart simple is headspace, and a dummy heart is a hope.

It's so beautiful when you feel that your connection with your partner goes beyond just a physical, emotional, or even mental level. Having that sense of sacredness be a part of your partnership allows it to fulfill you on so many more stories. It is good to make sure that those you commit yourself to have similar beliefs as yours. This is not to say that you need to have identical life philosophies or agree on everything. Still, it makes a relationship more meaningful and likely to last longer when you create a life with your partner built on your fundamental beliefs. Also, you can broaden your perspectives by opening your mind up to different philosophies offered by your partner.  

Do you know it takes a guardian angel to keep it accurate? Angels, we all say we need one, and we all have one.  We forget the extent of work an angel is required to do. They work behind the scenes and serve. Known for their might to wipe out war, they are created with one purpose, for all time, to help God. As providers of physical needs and protectors from danger, my angel watches over me just as I am to watch over the ones I love with the same dedication. Indeed, in our dynamics, we can either take this literal and fuck shit up or realize the ladder of love has many steps.

This simple tool has been teaching us for 10,000 years. We use this device to go and down repeatedly. Two solid sides and tiny links allow movement, and you need all the pieces to make it work. Or you will have some kindling for a fire and two stilts. How do we use this ladder to reach new heights? First, we understand that whoever is in the relationship makes the ladder, and you are not an assigned piece but part of a complete product. Second, we must understand the maintenance needed to keep our ladder strong and avoid disrepair.

My ladder is many pieces—myself, Top, sister slave, kids, grandkids, three families, and faith. My control is a primary piece. This piece, be it daunting or delicate, requires finesse, and I can instantly go from support to a stairway. If my child needs a lift, I may be the very bottom step they need or the side support so they can believe in their ability to climb. Then there are days I need the ladder. Without missing a phase, I need to know my next step, my way to the top. This requires all my pieces.

Ever try to open a rusted ladder or a splintered wooden way up? All good tools need to be maintained. Indeed, it takes a conscious decision to care. The dance in this piece is knowing who needs what and when. Granted, I may slow dance one day and go straight techno the next, but my dance is the deed. I compare this with my children. Once, they needed me to hold their hands to walk, now they needed help with career advice and taming a nine-year-old. Before one thinks my relationship in my dynamic is unchanging, it is the never-ending living story.

Maintenance starts with self-care. I pray every day, multiple times, to the Lord above just to set my brain for the day. I don't ask for anything when I wake or go to sleep. I thank God for the day given and promise with every fiber of my being that I will try to understand the clues given. Yet, when I miss the mark, my ladder is to catch me. The catch is that being helped can mean hearing things you do not want to hear. Just like we discipline our children, a genuine relationship based on love comes from correction, not cockiness. Silence in study and meditation allows me to stay keen on my truth. I can be the sweetest angel to the most wicked spirit if I let it. We have all heard #samiam, yet a smart ass should know when to speak and when to stay steady. What I stand for either makes or breaks my ladder.