Yup its another long St-jean weekend!
For most people this means another day of rest and relaxation – for others it means another day for the old wifey to boss you around. For me it means another day of abuse from Master! We’ll be leaving tomorrow morning for the cottage. I have no idea where it is aside from that its brutally secluded somewhere on the water. I’ve always been bagged in the trunk when we drive up there
(I say up loosely because I have no fucking clue which way it is). But I always lend up dangling from one ankle from a tree for a night when we go up. I love sleeping in bondage but being tied upside down by just one ankle, and the other ankle pulled back to my head (a good example can be found HERE). Its a rare thing I get to walk on 2 feet (and even when I am allowed I am not allowed being flat-footed, I must always be on tiptoe unless I’m in ballerina boots) however whenever I’m strung up by on ankle like that, he makes me walk around the next morning (on tip-toe of course) because he knows how much my ankle KILLS…most people would be taken to the hospital by that point! I think when I’m old I might be a crickety old bag because of all this abuse! Luckily by the time I’m 30, Master says hes going to have me permantly boxed to live out the rest of my days in a dark tiny cramped little box.
My parents would be SO proud of me!
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Is it really that fun to stay in a box?
Its not really that fun to stay in a box…but being a slave isn’t about fun.