Bendable Barbie Doll

Oh so quiet from me, I know. But the reason is very good and most appropriate, and it is this: Master is here.

You may or may not know that Master lives very far away from me. A continent and an ocean separate us, though nothing else ever could. So the times that we spend actually together are rare and magnificent, and in that time I focus on nothing but him.

But last night he mentioned that the blog had been left unloved for too long, so here I am, as he does some of his own computering beside me.

Having him here is truly the most wonderful of things. We have nice, vanilla times where we go out for food or go see movies or play boardgames (and right or wrong, he lets me win when I can make it happen). We have marvelous conversations, sharing even more of ourselves with each other which amazes us both, so connected do we already feel. We share little tidbits, such as movies and books, with the other and without fail we like the same things again and again.

But these are not the things for which you read this blog, and I know it.

Master has a trigger he created in the months before he came here. As is true with the others, I don’t know what the magic word is. But he’s let me remember the experiences a few times, and they shatter me. This trigger removes my mind, leaving me an obedient, mindless plaything. His own life-sized Barbie, if you will, but with parts that actually bend. When he reduces me this way he then gets to play with me with no concerns for what I want or need or think. Because when I’m in this state I don’t want. I don’t need. I don’t think. I obey and serve and do as he commands. I’m just his toy.

Since he arrived I know he’s used the trigger many times. A couple I remember, but most I do not. What I do remember is this: he smiles at me, and then I “wake” somewhere else, in a new position, often dressed differently and usually with his cum either splashed over me or filling my mouth. And always, always my cunt is dripping, dripping, dripping. That is the part that I really don’t get – though my mind is shut off and I have no wants of my own, my cunt still reacts to whatever it is that we do. I think that’s a testament to how strongly I respond to my Master – nothing can stop me from leaking over him. Not even him.

I’ve asked him if he gets the same enjoyment from fucking someone, or even more accurately someTHING as I am in that state, who doesn’t react to him with moans or sighs or even a smile. He tells me that the biggest appeal for him of this play is that he need not spare even the tiniest thought for me. We both understand that my wants and needs mean nothing compared to his, but he loves me and cannot help but think of me when I’m writhing and squirming under him. When he simplifies me to a living doll like this such automatic concerns are wiped away, replaced with something that looks and sounds like me, but is completely his object there only to please him however he wishes.

I will ask him if he will, someday, write a blog post for you all describing what it is like when he reduces me this way. But for now I will focus on pleasing him. My greatest joy.