(Please keep in mind that this post was written a full year ago before the time of publishing.)
As I mentioned in the previous post, Lois had recently made me order a few new things, which included black shiny hold-ups. Once I got home from my little trip on the hill I took pictures to show her what the hold-ups looked like. I didn’t expect her to come online again that day and figured I might speak to her again in one or two weeks. But she messaged me that evening, just about as I had started feeling quite down.
She told me to wear the shiny hold-ups, my stilettos, a tight white top and take a picture with this and every skirt I owned while she was watching along on webcam. It essentially made me feel as if she was sitting on the bed while I was posing for her.
The first thing she told me when I had set stuff up was to “stand straight!” which… I’m sorry, I’m terrible at.
I had wanted to take the pictures in my room instead of the spare room, as it was evening and my flatmate was home but the set up didn’t work. The spare room had this large white wall, which was perfect for pictures and put a grey-ish sheet on the floor in front of it. The carpet is dark blue, which made it impossible to see black heels or clothes in pictures.
I was very aware that she was watching me and I felt very self-conscious about taking the picture. After the second one, she told me to get a lamp so that it’d make the hold-ups visibly shiny. Additionally, I needed to pull the hold-ups up, as they had creases as it was. I was already very wet at this point.
After taking the third picture, she told me that the lamp had to be out of the frame and needed to be positioned on the other side. The hold-ups still had creases and I needed to start smiling like I was enjoying it… I was starting to consider myself as a semi-professional smile faker since Lois taught me to smile no matter how much pain I was in.
After the fourth picture she said that the angle needed to be higher and the response to the fifth picture was that the light had to shine directly on my legs.
I wasn’t sure what she meant because I thought the light was already aimed at my legs. I couldn’t really see what it looked like on my phone (that I was taking the pictures with – blue tooth remote control) which was positioned on the other side of the room on a bedside table, which was balancing on the bed and the phone stood held up in between a box and a water bottle.
She asked me again how wet I was and I didn’t know how to tell the difference between the last time she asked and now because I was just all-around wet.
After the sixth picture, she said that the rug that I was standing on had to be perfectly crinkle-free. I sighed… how was I going to do this? I mean, for one it wasn’t a rug and just a sheet, which by definition meant it couldn’t be completely straight because of the corners. I tried my best by putting the corners underneath the flat bit and the thought crossed my mind that an iron would have been useful.
I told her that it couldn’t be flat by design.
Lois: “Sounds like you are trying to make excuses before you have even shown me. Do you think you should try to get such security?”
I sent this one second after she sent her reply: “I can get my red blanket instead, which can be flat.”
Followed by: “No Mistress, I’m sorry.”
I wonder if the “I can get my red blanket instead” made the difference because she didn’t say anything else about it after. And honestly, that’s why I had mentioned the flaws of the sheet, to suggest a different solution. But even though I didn’t mean to feel secure by saying it, I subconsciously did and it’s something I automatically tend to do in my life in general. It’s like some sort of making sure that I can’t be wrong by… I mean, it’s exactly as she said. And I felt a bit ashamed of it then.
So picture seven was taken with the straightened sheet. She told me that the lamp was in the picture and that it didn’t look like it was pointing at me, which was very frustrating because I had really tried to not move the lamp after it had finally been positioned perfectly in the previous picture!
She asked me what was wrong with picture eight… which was that I had forgotten to pull up the pull-ups, aahh.
Lois: “How long ago would you say I should have helped you focus through punishment?”
I sent her picture number nine, not knowing whatever count we were on by now and said:
Me: “Like ten pictures ago Mistress?”
(which is funny now because we hadn’t even made it to picture number 10!)
Before she could respond to picture nine I noticed that the shoes weren’t fully in the picture this time.
Me: “now the shoes
aren’t
aaaaah”
She asked me if I thought she was too lenient with me and I said I didn’t know and tended not to question why she did or did not do certain things.
(Which I guess, now thinking about it, is the safest answer one can give?? I felt like I was walking on a tight rope and was at the risk of falling down…
I had already been feeling like she was about to punish me around picture six. And to be honest, it wasn’t that she would punish me, it was that I felt like I was messing up and knew that would mean I had to be punished, which I deserved. But I was also absolutely dreading it and feeling very uncomfortable about it!)
She told me to re-take the picture and get the tiger balm and the hot sauce.
Both, I thought? But if she was going to make me use the hot sauce what was the point of the tiger balm?
I messed up picture number ten too. She asked me what was wrong with it and I started feeling very bad and nervous.
Me: “I don’t look happy enough Mistress?
Lois: “Yes, and the lamp is in the picture”
(HOW DID I NOT NOTICE. I could have literally cropped that out before sending it to her)
Me: “I’m sorry Mistress.”
Lois: “Don’t be sorry. You will get punished. Put the hot sauce on your clit and vagina and retake the picture.”
Dear readers, do you have any idea how detrimental, piercingly painful, fire-burningly, knife-stabbingly PAINFUL this fucking hot sauce is? No? Well, I hope you never have to know because it’s just. It’s just. I cannot.
I moved closer to the webcam and tried to have the spotlight fall directly on my clit by moving my right arm underneath my leg and holding the leg up so that it wouldn’t block the light. I didn’t know how successful this turned out until Lois showed me a picture of it later, taken by screenshot.
My arm was shaking and I hesitated. The mere smell of this sauce sends shivers through me and seeing the sauce on the cotton swab had the same effect. How was I going to do this? I thought of how she would just quickly force it onto my clit if she was holding this cotton swab and told myself that I should do the same… I should just… do this. This was my punishment.
I started by smearing some on my clit and tried to do it on all sides before smearing it around my vagina. For a few seconds I didn’t feel all that much… just a slight sort of burning sensation. Then all at once it just… erupted like a volcano (which I guess is suiting considering it’s hot sauce).
I sat hunched over and slowly crawled closer back to the wall so I could lean against something while I was clenching and unclenching my hands into fists. I tried to sit straight, crouched back over and tried to sit up again unsuccessfully. I started crying as I was unable to cope and couldn’t find any way to make it better. I have no idea how long I was on the floor like that but I knew I had to retake the picture and do it right this time.
When I started trying to get up and put my phone back in place, the burning instantly intensified because movement, dear readers, is even more detrimental when you have hot sauce on your vagina and clit. I was seriously wondering how I could take a picture smiling when I had just been crying from the pain. I don’t think I was able to stop shaking either.
Can anyone explain to me how that much pain would help you to focus?!
The first picture I took wasn’t good and I didn’t send it to her (I had finally learned?) and instead attempted to retake it.
Lois: “Ok. Thank you.
What is wrong with this one?”
(I don’t… I don’t know?? ;___; The canvas is reasonably decreased for the canvas. I removed the lamp out of the picture. The light is shining on the pull-ups and there are no creases in them. I think I look happy enough??)
Me: “I don’t know Mistress”
Lois: “The pose is not good. Both legs bent. Do it again. Now.”
I didn’t move immediately because I didn’t understand what she meant. I hadn’t realised that my pose must be off because of the hot sauce. (See… so much for increasing my focus!) But I also didn’t understand what she was saying because I couldn’t remember the concept of my pose.
Me: “They should be bent or not be bent?”
Lois: “One straight, one bent, look at the previous ones. And don’t talk back to me in that tone.”
(I’m sorry!! ;___; I was just. It was difficult to think and type and write and aaaaahhhh!)
I told her I was sorry and sent her picture number twelve.
Lois: “Good. Now with the rest of your skirts.”
I had finally succeeded to get a good one! I did it!
I cannot stress enough how horrible it is to move when you have hot sauce on your clit. Honestly, when you sit completely still it is SO UNBEARABLE already. Whenever I had to move (which was every time to 1: put the camera in place. 2: move to the right spot. 3: pose and push legs close together so the burning INTENSIFIED MORE. 4: walking back to the phone to send the picture to Lois. 5: Waiting to hear if it’s okay and then move the phone back in place again.) I think I kind of ‘coped’ by telling myself ‘just do it, don’t think or feel until you have made it to the next place where you need to be.’ And then every time I got to my ‘destination’ so to say I had to give myself a few seconds to scream quietly into the void before I could continue with my task.
I got picture number thirteen with a white skirt right in one go. Same for number fourteen with the long black skirt, after which I accidentally kicked my laptop screen so the webcam lost signal for a moment. I panicked for having done that but fixed it pretty much instantly.
The fourth skirt, a long green one, was really difficult to get on because the zipper in the back is sort of broken and it just wasn’t working. I tried to fix it by turning my skirt around and zipping it up on the front where I could see it, which worked and then I turned it around. Somewhere in the middle of this process, Lois messaged me to say that she had to go now but that I should keep on going as she was looking forward to seeing the pictures tomorrow.
I liked hearing that she was looking forward to seeing the pictures but I was also sad.
I finished the last picture, undressed and very slowly walked back to my room with my legs spread out as wide as possible to avoid touching anything else with my vagina. It took me ten minutes to lie down on my bed. I thought I would cry again. It hurt more when I lied down and I didn’t dare move my blanket on top of me even though my feet were freezing.
I didn’t know what to do with myself. I thought of watching something to hopefully distract myself but it didn’t work at all. So instead I started writing my thoughts to Lois. At first, they were about what I’d tried to do to make the pain less, and how I was failing at it. Then I thanked her for being punished because I deserved it. Then I told her how I’d forgotten how painful this was and how the smell and look of the sauce alone made me feel disgusted.
The thoughts of why I disliked this sauce so much continued for a while… and were interrupted by how I wasn’t able to cope. Then I said I wish I was a better slave so I didn’t need to be punished, and reflected on this by saying this meant I was feeling sorry for myself. So I corrected it by saying that I would be a better slave so I wouldn’t get punished.
Then I said that I’d rather be dealing with having to kill a spider right now (which… I think… says a lot).
Me: “I don’t understand how the pain is increasing when I am essentially like a statue right now.
I should stop complaining because I brought this on myself.
It’s my own fault.”
I stopped writing but less than an hour later I continued again.
Me: “I briefly question my choices when I have to use nipple or clit or vagina clamps. But with this, I truly start to wonder why I (seek?) pain?”
I had seen a picture on Twitter of a Master pulling at the nipple clamps of a slave and my feelings towards it were that it didn’t look arousing at all and I wondered how anyone could cope with pain and why anyone would want to be in pain? (Side note, this picture 100% arouses me normally, just not at that moment.)
Me: “Can someone temporarily kill me so I can stop feeling like this.”
By this point, I was talking to my best friend and had started the conversation like “I am in pain.” (classic, lol.)
He started suggesting things that might help, which I all shot down because I had tried them in the past without success. Still, he was hopeful about some things so I asked him for google evidence, lol. He found the following:
“To calm inflammation and turn down the heat, gently put something cool on your well-spiced genitals, Jessica Shepherd, M.D., an ob/gyn, tells SELF. This could be an ice pack or pack of frozen peas (just make sure to put it in something like a paper towel so it’s not too intense) or a cool, wet washcloth. Wondering if you should just rinse off with water? It depends. Sticking your vagina under your bathtub faucet might not cause the flood of relief you’d expect.”
In addition to this, he explained that the article said to apply greek yoghurt tot the area in extreme cases and if that didn’t work to go to a doctor.
Me: “LOL. Well, this article clearly doesn’t know about masochistic slaves does it.”
We decided that the best thing to try was taking a cold shower and rinse the area for about 5 minutes in the hope that would wash it off. (The article had also said not to use soap).
Did I mention I hate the feeling of water? Is it a surprise then, hearing that I HATE cold water? But alas, it had to be done. In the shower I briefly doubted myself, considering if I couldn’t use warm water instead. Somehow I stuck to the plan and without much hesitation I aimed the cold stream onto my vagina. It was cold, but above all, it was kind of a relief, apart from my shaking legs and freezing feet. While the water was hitting my vagina I couldn’t feel the burning feeling and when I excited the shower 5 minutes later, it seemed to have gone.
However, I couldn’t celebrate just yet. What if the water had only temporarily numbed the pain and taken away the sensation like that? When I got back to my bed, Liam and I decided that I’d have to wait 20 minutes to see if it had worked.
I then came across a Kinky Facebook Profile which text said the following:
It took me a while to realise that:
No-one controlled me enough,
No-one hurt me enough,
No-one took the time to understand what my body or mind wanted.
No-one respected me enough to enable me to bare my soul and respect them back.
and
No-one loved me enough.. Including myself!
Reading this resonated with me so much that it suddenly made me feel grateful for Lois and bad for having complained so much. I wrote a paragraph thanking her for the things she did and then continued with:
Me: “(But to let you know how it’s going after the cold shower, the feeling is starting to come back so I guess that means all it did was numb it ;____;)
Me: “Okay it is back in full force kill me.”
I then said that if I could choose I’d never use this sauce again, but added that saying this made me feel like a bad slave and made me think I sounded ungrateful.
Me: “Maybe I need to be punished for all of the things I’ve said tonight… I’m sorry Mistress.”
This instantly triggered my thoughts of self-hate and depression. But I also instantly tried to bury and ignore them, which was reasonably successful.
But then I started feeling like eating chocolate, which I was not allowed to. My best friend told me not to and this worked for about 15 minutes before I gave in…
Honestly, chocolate is like having a piece of heaven melt on your tongue. It’s a type of milk chocolate with gooey caramel inside. It’s so good. Of course, I felt guilty about eating (almost the whole bar) straight afterwards and I started messaging another friend to see if he wanted to have all the candy I had hidden around in my room because my dad had sent it to me (not helpful when trying to be healthy!)
It was close to 12 o’clock at night by then. I had taken my sleeping pills about an hour ago and they were starting to kick in. I felt almost certain that this would help me sleep despite the pain I was still in. My best friend went to bed and I was about to do the same when Miss Lois came back online.
Lois: “How are you?”
To be continued.
Xx MLSlavePuppet
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Oh my. Once, my husband stuck his fingers in my cunt after cutting hot peppers. He’d forgotten…and it took a bit of time for the heat to build. But when it did…holy shit THE FIRE! I tried washing…butter…and still it did not go away. So I can only imagine (and sympathize) with your pain here.
Omg! That sounds horrible. How funny that it happened accidentally like that. How agonisingly funny, really lol. How long did it take before the feeling eased off?
hot hot hot and I don’t just mean the sauce.
Haha
Your dedication is incredible! Love the images, and love how you kept on trying 🙂
~ Marie
Thank you Marie
When I read this I do not have any sexual urges. I just hurt for you.
Lol! I can find myself in that haha
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Having icy hot applied to Angus and the boys, as well as my nipples and anus… well I likely have a small idea of what you went through! Damn…