Kindness

Nymphomaniac:
noun
a woman who has abnormally excessive and uncontrollable sexual desire.

i am told more often than not that i should calm down.

i talk sexually, i think sexually, i sleep with tormented sexual dreams.

i have tried to find a hobby,  i enjoy writing! Stories come easily to my mind but then the words start to change to a darker, more perverted style.

i tried gardening, working to keep my hands busy but then my senses ignite. The feel of the soil in my gloved hands, the smell of the dirt and flowers. my mind goes into an excited state.

You can imagine then living this lifestyle 24/7. my day consists of kisses,  pinches, loving spanks, cuddles, pokes and prods!

Master gets some of his enjoyment from seeing my excitement build throughout our work day. Our rules have developed from these days of togetherness. Things like if i respond with a snarky answer i will be given 2 good bare ass smacks. If i  complete a given task i will be kissed and cuddled.

i am never allowed to touch myself during the work day so all of the stimulation can cause a nympho like me to stay in a heightened state of arousal. i will be told to calm down, control myself.

i wiggle and tingle, i try to have self control.

My God!

Then i come here to chat with friends and calm down.  No one i know is here so i go to read some blogs! Big mistake. Your blogs cause more excited torment.

So what is my answer, what should I do!

Nymphomaniac most of you will say! Get a grip!

Yes i will claim the title and wear it proudly.  i love the torment, i love the stimulation but i will show Master i can be strong and i will follow the rules, i will calm down but stay forever His randy slut!

wis·en·heim·er
ˈwīzənˌhīmər/Submit
nounUSinformal
a person who behaves in an irritatingly smug or arrogant fashion, typically by making clever remarks and displaying their knowledge.

Master said to me this morning, dont be a wisenheimer, little one. After I made a very smug but clever remark about a job that we were doing together! 

I think being a wisenheimer could be fun in a sort of masochistic way, lol!

judg·ment
noun
noun: judgement
1. the ability to make considered decisions or come to sensible conclusions

We should be rigorous in judging ourselves and gracious in judging others.

John Wesley

Sometimes I worry and wonder why,
That others can not see,
The beauty in those in the world,
that are not at all like me.

I am me that's plain to see,
And you are you that's true.

But I will always extent my hand and try to see your view,  if you will also be as kind and give the same from you.

This 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and proud lady, who is fully dressed each morning by eight o’clock, with her hair fashionably coiffed and makeup perfectly applied, even though she is legally blind, moved to a nursing home yesterday. Her husband of 70 years recently passed away, making the move necessary.

After many hours of waiting patiently in the lobby of the nursing home, she smiled sweetly when told her room was ready. As she maneuvered her walker to the elevator, she was provided a visual description of her tiny room, including the eyelet sheets that had been hung on her window. “I love it,” she stated with the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old having just been presented with a new puppy.

“Mrs. Jones, you haven’t seen the room …. just wait.”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with it,” she replied. “Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time. Whether I like my room or not doesn’t depend on how the furniture is arranged, it’s how I arrange my mind. I already decided to love it. It’s a decision I make every morning when I wake up. I have a choice;

I can spend the day in bed recounting the difficulty I have with the parts of my body that no longer work, or get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do. Each day is a gift, and as long as my eyes open I’ll focus on the new day and all the happy memories I’ve stored away, just for this time in my life.”

She went on to explain, “Old age is like a bank account, you withdraw from what you’ve put in. So, my advice to you would be to deposit a lot of happiness in the bank account of memories Thank you for your part in filling my Memory bank. I am still depositing.”

And with a smile, she said: “Remember the five simple rules to be happy:

1. Free your heart from hatred.
2. Free your mind from worries.
3. Live simply.
4. Give more.
5. Expect less, & enjoy every moment.

Most of the time, I am just invisible. 

Until his eyes stripped me of my honesty.

Honestly,
with one look, he saw things in me, I never knew existed.

Fantasy,
twisted, I read pleasures from passages of ecstasy,
that still haunt me intensely, immensely and pleasurably.

His want for me was a force of nature; that captivated me
and still holds my soul captive, as it sets me free.

Mystique meets her Majesty
Love is pain and pain is love,
as soon as I felt his pain,
I fell in love; uncontrollably.

This is me when I was four, sitting in Sunday school learning to sing Jesus Loves Me!

Then when I was at home my daddy would play David Brubeck, Herb Albert and so many more.

Music was a very big part of my early life!

I was reminded of the fun music has brought me everyday when I was in the chat room and everyone was sharing the music they like.

Thanks everyone!

I love to play games, board games, group games, tag, hide and seek.

Games make me feel good and feeling good makes me happy.

Do you like to play games?

What's your favorite game to play?

A loud crash of thunder startled me and I woke scared. I looked around the room and could see many shadowed figures surrounding me. The room was dark except for one candle burning on the shelf behind me. The light did nothing to really illuminate the room and I could see the reflection of the flame behind the ghostly figures. The forms were both men and women, all were dressed in fetish garb. Leather, chains, garters, penis cages, nipples clamped, much like you might see at a fetish dungeon play party.

What is going on I wondered. I don't believe in ghosts, I don't believe in ghost, I keep saying it over and over again.

I try and speak but nothing comes out when I open my mouth. I must be going crazy I think. My body betrays my mind and I tingle with excitement.

I am gathered in the arms of the head Master, he lifted me to my feet. Still I try and call out but no sounds come out. My arms are held above my head, my feet are spread apart.

The head Master says to his people, she is a non believer, we must teach her that we exist! Show this slut that even after death there is our kind of play.

Well I will let you use your imagination as to how this slut was used, but in my fantasy Master comes home to find me bound and suspended. He of course will never pass up the opportunity to have his way with his slave and he asks how I became bound. I tell him the tale and that now I believe in ghosts!