To say I have an active imagination is probably a bit of an understatement. Mix that with a locked cock, a plugged hole, a Master and Daddy who (among many other things) make me just fucking swoon, and you’ve got a recipe for something out of this world. Something a little kinky, a little perverse, and….well fuck, a little bit almost sacred. Sacred is maybe not the right word, but maybe it is. We share things that nobody else knows about, explore lots of things that others likely don’t know, and share a vulnerability that only serves as a means of growing us closer and arguments about who loves who more on which day of the week.

Back to my active imagination. I’m not a huge consumer of video porn, but I love reading erotic stories. It gives my brain a little room for my own creativity. Master and I both have interests in hypnosis. While we wouldn’t call it hypnosis, we’ve developed a (quite extensive and ever growing) list of trigger words. If you follow my twitter, you’ve probably seen a few posts about Master’s amazing legs. Having them wrapped around me, rubbing them, licking them, or resting my head on them makes me feel amazing, and there aren’t any other places in the world I’d rather be. Well, when Master says, “xxxxx,” I think about those legs of his. I want to feel them, lick them, touch them, tell others about them. If I can get to them, that’s what you will find me doing, basically worshiping the legs that hold the man who means so much to me. The only way to turn this off is to worship those legs. If he isn’t where I can get to him, the urge to tell someone about them and how amazing they are grows in my brain. Hence, a few of those amazing leg posts are fueled by the trigger. We’ve even programmed a few of the words in a manner that Daddy can use a few select ones on me as well.

If you ever see me standing in the middle of the aisle at the hardware store, just staring into space with a raging, titanium bending tent in my pants, it is likely a result of one of these triggers. Master has whispered it into my ear, right there in the store, and I become nothing more than a frozen object, one that cannot be moved unless my Master moves it, or the words are turned off by him saying xxxx into the correct ear.

Have you ever felt your Master’s dick grow inside of you? Wider, deeper, longer, melding  with you with his growing cock. So big you are about to be split open as the throbbing, pulsing, veiny member can be seen leaking in the back of your open mouth? There’s a trigger for that sensation, too. Holy fuck, it feels amazing to be so close to my Master. While physically it is unlikely, I fucking feel it. I feel it with every part of my body and mind. There is even one that makes me mentally think my plug is inflating, bigger, and bigger and when this happens, I fucking think I might explode but since there is safety in it not really happening, he just keeps inflating it more and more and, well, let’s just say I like it.

Of course, when Master travels, he can’t provide the physical touch (read pain) that he and I both love. As a slave who is made better and a Master who is made better through our exchange of pain, we needed some way to share that when distance was part of the equation. Well, there is a word for that, too. When the text comes across the screen, I feel every bit of pain he has ever given to me. I swear I can feel my ass start to glow with that white hot feeling just before the skin is about to break. My nipples throb with burning pain. My back feels the sting of the flogger. My Master feels the energy, too. You’d probably witness two leaking throbbing cocks (one caged, one more than likely not caged). The ability to share this with each other, while sounding very unlikely to some, is possible, if you can let yourself be trusting another with the other and relax your mind enough to feel those feelings. If you can do that, your physical body will follow.

Another example is when he whispers “XX#$!” In my ear. I am overwhelmingly compelled to lick my Master. All of him. Every square inch that his slave’s tongue can reach. It was all I could do not to lick myself or the rather handsome fellow standing next to me when the word came across the screen of my phone a few days ago. I have to fight it at times and he knows that and, of course, I think he likes it.

At times, the words are used to make me an animalistic being or to stop my ability to use words. Fueled by desire, love, lust, and admiration for my Master. These words have served as a way to grow our trust and relationship in many ways. These words are not just used for kinky reasons. For example, Master and I talk before bed every night. When he knows I have had a particularly stressful day for whatever reason, he worries about his slave getting enough rest. Well, all he has to do is say one or a combination of some of our words. I can relax. I can feel him wrap around me and hold me, or I can feel myself holding him (depends on how you view the holding, I suppose). Either way, these words are not only a good tool for slave training, but they do have a place in everyday life. I am more than amazed at the man MY Master is, and how he cares for his slave in such a way.

When we first started trying some of these trigger words or whatever you want to call it, we were both skeptical. I’ll be damned, it really works on some level. It’s even funny because we watch my heart rate on my watch and it increases more and more with some of them and, with the frozen ones, it actually decreases. Real, no real, I don’t care because my place is constantly enforced. Who knows, maybe it just gives me permission to embrace doing the perverted things I’m thinking about. Maybe it allows us to access our active imaginations. Maybe he does really control my mind. I mean every bit of me is owned by him, why would one assume this mind isn’t his property, too? He’s shown me unconditional love, trained me to continually be a better slave, and so many other things. If love looks like trigger words being used to make me feel him, taste him, be closer to him, then I’m a huge fan of it. I hope this is an encouragement to others to be the pervert you are, and I hope it encourages you to find your person who gets you, loves you, encourages you, hurts you a little (the good kind), and helps you grow. We aren’t perfect, but goddamn it, he sure feels like it.