Terry's Weight Loss Journal

Sunday, January 8th, 2017

So today we talked on the phone for a long time. You pointed out all the different parts of my week and I was surprised to see how much you really saw. You showed me the stats on the fitness band and I was surprised to see how you interpreted it. How can you tell how often I sat, how often I walked. When it was hard work and when I was just moving around without really putting effort into it. Not to be an ass, but damn Nick... you put a lot of thought into this.

Then you sent me an e-mail with a set of formulas and explained how they showed my calorie intake and the amount of calories I needed each day. Apparently I'm over eating and under working. Well I guess that isn't surprising since I'm fat. If I ate well and worked out well then I wouldn't have to ask for help to get healthy would I?

So you changed my diet and what I am allowed to eat. Thankfully I can still choose my foods, but I have to stay within a specific calorie intake. Basically if stay under a certain amount of calories all is good and I don't get in trouble. If I go over by five hundred calories or less than I do not get a creative punishment... but I lose the right to cum that night. Yikes.

If I go over that amount then I have to call you for a punishment. This is not something I want.

"Do you want to know what kind of punishment you might get?" You asked and I swear your voice did that husky thing. I hate that husky thing. I mean not really, hate is a strong word. But I don't trust it. It means you're thinking thoughts that I won't like.

"Nope." I answered you, trying to sound like I wasn't freaking out.

"Tough." You said and I think you were laughing at me. "I can be very creative you know."

I did know. I have seen how creative you have been and I have experienced it. This is not something I need instruction in.

"Are you there?" You ask.

"Yes." Did I sound as nervous as I felt?

"Then tell me, do you recall what kind of creative experiences I can give you." You are not letting it go. I start to remember things like that time in the woods when you tied my arms up from a branch and I was standing on the one below it. Each time you smacked me with that stupid crop how I had to balance and try to keep from falling. I know that I could not really fall, but it felt like I could. I also knew that you would catch me. Doesn't that sound stupid?

"Terry."

"yes"

"ask me to tell you what will happen if you have to call."

"I don't wanna ask." I feel like a little kid, I fight not to cross my arms and stomp my foot.

"Terry." You're growling. Shit.

"Please." I say. I have a whine in my voice. You are quiet for a moment. I think you are going to let it go. You normally do when I beg, when I get really sad. You don't let it go this time though, and for some reason it seems really deliberate and really important. Why is that? Is it my imagination? I want to ask you but I can't. If you read this, please tell me. Why does this seem so significant?

"Ask me." You finally answer and I hear the steel in your voice.

"Sir, please sir." I might have said that a few different times. It is hard for me to do as I am told sometimes. It is hard for me to beg, to ask. Words are hard for me. You know this. You're doing it on purpose.

"Please sir, tell me ... will you tell me what happens if I have to call and admit that I went over?" I finally manage to get it out. There's a ball of tension in my chest. It was building up but now it is finally going away. Saying it always helps even if that's the reason it was there in the first place. Is this diary entry as scrambled as I feel?

"If you go over then you will strip naked and you will get on your knees. You will call me on video chat and you will beg me to help you. You will beg me to punish you so you can do better. And I will give you what you need, I will give you what you desire."

We talked for a while after that, but I don't really remember much more than that. I was too distracted by the idea of begging you for punishments. I don't want to have to do that. I wonder what you will come up with. I really wonder... But not enough to earn a punishment... right?

Thursday January 12, 2017

This week has been good so far. I haven't gone over in my calories but I am feeling very cranky and very easily irked. I really want to eat something more than salad and fruit. I could be happy never eating an apple again. I swear it.

Saturday January 14th

Yesterday I screwed up.

I went way over my calories. Not a little over. A lot.

I was tempted to not tell you. I was tempted to just lie. I was very tempted.

Instead I did as I was told. I brought the phone up to my room and took off my clothes. I ended up crying. I couldn't call you, not right away. I felt so ashamed and so fearful. I couldn't bring myself to call. I sat on the floor and cried. Then I got mad about it. Why am I so upset? It's a fucking diet and I messed up one day! One day! In two weeks I've done really well so why am I so upset?

I'm upset because I failed you.

I stayed there for a long time until I managed to calm down.

I knelt back down and I called you. You answered right away. I guess you could tell that I was crying because you did not look angry, you looked worried.

I tried to beg you to punish me but you didn't let me. You told me to go get my robe and put it on. You instructed me to sit on the bed and talk with you. You asked me why I was so upset and I pointed out that I screwed up and I messed up my diet. You agreed.

"But you've tried before and never been this upset." You reminded me.

"I didn't care as much then." I said.

"So why do you care now?" you asked. Damn it. I don't want to talk about this. You must have seen it in my face because you suddenly got stern. I could see it in your face. Can you read my face as much as I can read yours?

"I didn't want to make you angry." I said.

"I'm not angry."

"You're not?" I'm really surprised by this. I thought you would be angry.

"No, I'm disappointed but I'm not angry. I'm not even really disappointed." You told me. "You can't expect to be perfect. This isn't a simple change. It isn't a quick fix. This is you deciding to change your life and make it different. Lifetime changes aren't simple, they aren't easy, and they don't happen without some disappointments."

It was nice, you made me feel really good about this. We talked for a while longer and I started to really feel a lot better. Then... ...

"Feeling better?" You asked and I smiled and laughed and said yes. I thanked you. Ha! What an idiot!

"Good. Strip and get on your knees." It is crazy how your voice changes so much when you decide to take control.

"Whaaa?" Did I sound as dumb as I think I did?

"I'm not angry but you did break the rules and you must deal with the consequences as of that. So strip and kneel."

My heart is thumping and it hurts to breath. I wonder if you can see how badly my hands are shaking. You're really going to go through with this after all. I reach up and untie my robe, letting it fall open. It isn't the first time you've seen me naked and I'm sure it won't be the last. We really did have some good times.

Taking off the robe I get down on my knees on the floor. I move the phone and rest it against the drawers so you can see me. I forget what to do next, so I just kneel there looking at you.

"You were naughty." You say, I nod. "You need to be punished so you don't keep making the same mistakes." I realize that you're helping me again.

"Please sir." I start. "Please help me. I need your help so I can be a good girl. I need you to help me."

"How can I help you girl?"

"Please punish me." I think I said that aloud, can you hear that whispering voice or is it all in my head? You must hear me because you smile. You smile and then you tell me what I must do.

I have to wonder if I can do this. I know I can quit if I want to, but then I will lose the control and the help. I need that, but can I do this?

For the next two days I must rub icy hot on my tits three times a day, before I eat. I have to spend at least three minutes rubbing it into my tits, paying special attention to my nipples before putting my bra back on and going to eat. This way, as I eat, my mind will be on the consequences of not making good choices. I sit there for a minute, thinking. What was I thinking? Well let me tell you. I was thinking "this sucks, this sucks, this sucks." And a few other less coherent thoughts.

Finally, I agree to the terms. Tomorrow promises to be a hot kinda day.