Day 39, Tuesday 23rd of December 2014

Dear Diary
I vaguely remember Catherine getting out of the bed next to me, to shouting and hurried footsteps. Later, just after I accomplish sleep, I’m woken by a, “we found him!”
“Ee ound oo? (We found who?) I attempt to say. I’m fully awake by this point, ok, basic functions appear to be in order. Functions such as thinking do not. I find out that Ollie ran off, and everybody (except me) went looking for him. Including the ranger and he even got posted on Facebook as missing. I’m surprised Catherine didn’t kill me in my sleep straight after they found him. It would be far easier than killing me now. It turned out that Catherine was more angry at Ollie than at me, (I live to tell the tale!). Anyway, after that drama (which I not-so-unfortunately missed) I had breakfast and then more TV. Then a little bit of Iron Man (the movie) before the TV decided not to like us anymore. It doesn’t even have that cool static thing, just plain blue. I checked my iPhone several times by now, but still no messages from Master. Maybe he’s busy with work (I’ve omitted most of what I was going to say about this particular topic, since my punishment enlightened me to the fact it would disappoint you. And I don’t want to disappoint you twice. Especially if I can help it.) besides, you already know most of it anyway. After that Grandma tells us that we’re going back to Mum’s because she has a chiropractic appointment which is near our place. I pack, and get my bag ready to go. 2 whole days worth of clean clothes that I could’ve not packed. At least 2 semi-big books. Or a candle and a few things I could’ve used for Lithia. Think of the possibilities. We set off in Grandad’s car, which has far worse air conditioning that Grandma’s. I try to write a bit of Master’s present, and soon I feel the warning signs of car sickness. Grumbling I ask to wind down the window, which is granted, and I put my iPhone down. I know from past experience that I won’t be able to pick it up again for the rest of the hour-long drive. If I notice it quick enough, carsickness sometimes goes away after a bit with the wind in my face. But this time I didn’t. As I look at the horizon, and periodically close my eyelids to the wind, I think. While some of my thoughts were about the subject I bypassed earlier, others were about my need for a friend- someone who I could brag about Master to. Someone who I could know shared the secret with me. Someone who wouldn’t spill given the chance or reason. Those people are hard to find. I thought about seeing if I could find a fellow submissive in a chatroom, but I know next to nothing about getting around chatrooms (hence the dating site) and my abbreviations are similar to those of a great-grand-person. Or possibly a great-great-grand-person. Online, I act to old to attract a person my age. Good thing I can’t stand people my own age, older or younger- fine. But not my own age. I’m getting off-track here, my thoughts told me that finding a submissive my own age in a chatroom, with my lack of computer skills, would be lucky at best, and hours-on-end at a likely worst. We stopped at MacDonald’s on the way to get lunch, much to my tummy’s disappointment. Grandma took me in, even though I couldn’t remember what everyone else liked (we’ve each memorised our favourites for each fast food store, because Mum and Dad sometimes threaten to leave if one of us can’t decide quickly enough). We get them, and I got it wrong. Benjamin couldn’t have his Fanta because of his new braces, and I got his meal wrong too. And Catherine wanted Lift instead of Sprite. Then only one I got right was me, which goes without saying. After lunch we finished the rest of our journey, and ate the rest at home. I helped around a bit, and went in the pool with Catherine. Then I helped mum put up the new curtains, and I got faster at putting the little hooks in than her. I checked my phone again. The wifi had switched properly, but still no messages from Master. I worried, typed, and worried some more. I told myself that there was no need to worry, that Master could easily take care of himself (facts usually calm me down) and that if he didn’t want to well (we talked about this, so I won’t repeat it here) he would tell me. I played on Tiny Tower in the hopes a message would come through while I played. Then Dad got me to chop the potatoes for Rosemary Potatoes, and when I got back Master had texted. Or at least my lock screen said that he was typing on Snapchat. I picked it up as quickly as I could, relived that it only said 1 minute ago. The wait for it to load was agonising, (not unlike my poor rear-hole would be later). We talked alittle, before Master said he had to punish me. Instantly I went through all the things I could’ve done wrong, but my list turned up blank. So I asked what I had done wrong, trying to be humble while still wanting an answer. Not that he wouldn’t give it, he’s too perfect for me sometimes. He said that he worried about me, (awww moment) because I hadn’t given my number before I left (Grandma’s internet didn’t work). 2 whole days, not being able to send me a message of any kind or get any response whatsoever. At least I thought my messages were getting through. He didn’t even have that. I pull my legs up to my chest as the guilt pours through me. Like lava pouring onto Pompeii. He tells me my punishment, to stick the glue stick in my ass, without anything to help it. For a moment I’m both shocked and there’s a strange itch between my legs. I couldn’t get turned on by this could I? The shock was that he would considers onetime like that, and that somehow he knew, again. I swear I hadn’t given any hints in my diary entries about the fantasies. Butt plugs, enemas, and dildos. All featured but never spoken of. (Excuse the pun). I hadn’t wanted to try it because I knew it would hurt, and not the good kind of hurt. Plain and simple I was scared of it. Still am, but far less. I took a deep breath, and typed, Yes Master. (Just saying or reading those words has a habit of turning me on, it sends me a picture of me kneeling at his feet, head bowed… Great, I’m turned on, again, how does he do it?). After the front but of it goes in, the rest is, not easy, but easier. It helps that the glue stick is hard, not soft like my finger. My poor butt has no choice but to just accept it. Then, once it was in, he asked me to turn on the video. Unfortunately it was already in, and my finger couldn’t get it out nor could I get two fingers in. And trying to hold my hole apart burned. He told me to put 2 undies on, but with the end firmly past the outside rings, it wasn’t coming out anytime soon. Still, I did as he said, and tried to keep my ouchy-faces to myself. After a bit it didn’t hurt as much, and I was able to sit at the dinner table and behave like I didn’t have something stuck up my but. My acting wasn’t perfect though, as Grandad commented on how quiet I was. When I got back to my room I texted Master, before going to the toilet. Master probably wouldn’t want a picture, but maybe he would. I decided to take a chance and took one, but I asked Master if he wanted it. Then I set about typing up my blog, which went on too late, hence why I’m typing it up now. So Good Morning Master, have fun at work! (Or try to, whichever is the most possible)


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