Plump ~ 3

He was amusing.  And easy to listen to.  And if she had a random thought from time to time about what she’d wish he’d do to her, well, no one had to be the wiser about it, right? He explained about some ‘toys’ that she’d not seen ‘live’ before, like the Whartenburg Wheel, but didn’t offer to demonstrate it. He was tantalizing her without even making an effort to.

He was starting to explain the wheel to her, when she put up her hand in the classic stop motion. He paused, looking at her in a neutral fashion.

“Look, I just have to get this out there. It’s my policy, you see.”

“Your policy is to stop people mid-sentence?”

“No, no, oh. Right. Sorry. You’re not my dom, but that was rude. No, that’s not my policy Mr…Sir…Michael. I don’t know ..should I call you Sir? You’re not my sir, but back at home if we were introduced to another dom we used an honorific…”

Her voice trailed off as amusement lit his face.

“And now you’re laughing at me.”

“You are an amusing woman. A sexy, amusing woman who is NOT a doormat and does NOT need a knight in shining armor. Or non-shiny armor. And you have a policy that defies explanation.”

“No, no, it doesn’t. It’s honesty. That’s my policy. To be honest. At least here. I can’t always be at work, you know, because in vanilla life if you’re totally honest, you can wind up with no friends. And if you do it at work? Well, your coworkers hate you because you said the mauve suit is so 80’s…or yes, that hair color is a bit too much, instead of being gentle and saying of course it will be fine in a few weeks after it fades.”

She trailed off a moment before attempting to start again

“Honestly…” she paused, not sure if she should call him Sir, if that would encourage him where she wasn’t trying to. He looked at her as if he understood exactly the thoughts running through her head. He spoke into her confused silence.

“Sir. Or….Michael. You can use the honorific before my name, or not. But when we become a unit, it definitely needs to be joined….Sir Michael, together. That’s not beyond you, as I can tell you’re an intelligent woman, though our current conversation might belay that…”

She shook her head, lost herself.

“Yes. Sir. or Michael. I’m smart and …wait. What?”

“Your policy?”

“No, that sneaky other bit. When we become an item…”

“Did I say that?” A puzzled look came onto his face. “I’m sure your dazzling conversational style just made that come out of my mouth.”

“I see you smiling. I’m not…I can’t…just…UGH!” she growled, stomping her foot.  “Can we get back on track?”

“I’m sorry, are you derailed? How can I help?”

“See? Now you’re just being infuriating, and insufferable.”

“Two of my better qualities…”

She shook her head while looking skyward as if for help. He smiled deeply, the dimple flashing. She averted her eyes. That dimple was going to fuck with her if she kept looking at it.

“MY honesty policy means that I need to tell the dom I’m with how I’m feeling…because otherwise things can be misconstrued. Like you think I’m interested in you…”

He leaned just a bit too close, whispered near her ear.

“You are very much interested. Not only have you spent the last 40 minutes in my company without complaint…until now…but you’re wearing an especially appealing scent.”

She leaned away, looking up at him.

“I’m not wearing any scent at all,” she rebutted.

“I beg to differ, sweet sub, but indeed you are.”

Despite her head shaking in the negative, he continued, speaking softly, looking intently at her. She could not look away.

“The particular scent you are cloaked in is the unique one of a woman who is aroused. It is intoxicating. It is the essential you, and one that I will recognize always and immediately as yours from this point forward.”

The blush came fast, unexpectedly. She foundered, her mouth opening and closing with no words. She wasn’t embarrassed, exactly, but certainly befuddled.

“So, Addy, my dear, what do you need to be ‘totally honest policy’ with me about?”

He leaned away, and the sexual haze that had seemed to wrap around them snapped back to the musty smells of the dungeon. She was usually up on dom tricks, but this one took the cake. He managed to totally wrap her up, when she was intent on not being with anyone. Not being attracted to anyone. She was just checking the place out. And hopefully getting checked out. Right now, she felt more like a library book headed for his book bag! He’d checked her out, and decided to slip and slide her around to his way of thinking. And he was fucking sneaky about it, too!

“I’m not your submissive.”

“Heaven forbid!” He mock shuddered. “You’d be a boat-load of work. So much training. Your temper…your constant talking…”

“That’s it…that’s what I was going to be totally honest about. You’re such a plebe. Seriously. She mock punched his arm, making him draw back in pretend fear. His hands cupped over the crotch of his pants.

“Oh no…are you gonna hurt me? I’m not really feeling like eating testicles tonight..I just had some the other day…”

She laughed. She didn’t want to like him. Didn’t want to be amused by him. Didn’t want to be attracted, or stirred up, or whatever the hell she was. But dammit, she was.

“I’m still mad. I’ve got the mad inside me.”

“You don’t look mad.” He touched her for the first time all evening, his finger poking hard into her belly, making her fold over and giggle.

“You don’t feel mad or sound it. What is that strange noise coming out of your mouth??”

He tugged her up by a hunk of hair, and she moaned. His finger drilled into her belly and she tried to fold over again, yelping as his grip did not release, even while the unstoppable giggles rolled out of her.

“No! No…gigglegigglegiggle…oh Ohhhh…”

“That’s a very interesting array of sounds. Tell me more about this ‘mad’.”

He released her, brushing off her shoulders. She took a deep breath, shot him a look that would have melted lead, but managed to not say anything encouraging. By damn but she was ticklish, and he didn’t need to know any more about that.

“What happened out there. It pissed me off–”

“No. Really?” He drawled, deliberately teasing now.

“Really. And…it’s had no place to go…”

“You’re not still mad. You think you should be mad, but really, it’s over now. Let it go, the thought that you believe being mad is what you’re feeling. Because right now, you’re content. You’ve had an exciting evening, with a very brief run-in with a dick-face, followed by a chance to hang out with M/F’s most incredible Dominant.”

“Giving yourself top billing, eh?” she said, smiling.

“Well, yeah. But only because it’s true.”

“Easy for you to say,” she quipped before realizing that he’d managed to maneuver her just into this.

“Easy for me to show, too.”

‘Here it comes,’ she thought. He’d spent the evening enticing her, turning her on, teasing her…now comes the ‘let me fuck you brainless’ speech.

His eyes looked into hers, unreadable, yet so enticing.

“But not tonight. Tonight was full of firsts. You need time to process. Come back to us soon, sub-girl. Come back soon.”

He ran a finger down her cheek, then turning, disappeared into the dark and crowded room. She stood there, feeling the heat of that single finger tip for long minutes. Feeling somehow abandoned, and more than a bit bereft, she sighed, then headed off to get her coat, not knowing that he watched her from afar, with that secret smile on his face.

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Plump ~2

The nerve of people, she fumed, as she wove blindly through people engaged in all sorts of interesting behaviors.  She’d come here to have fun, to have a drink or two, see what the club had to offer, see if she could find someone to scratch the rather persistent itch she’d developed in the months since she’d moved here to Seattle. Instead, she’d been accosted by a pair of doms who had squared off over her like two hounds over a juicy bone.

She was no one’s damn, fucking juicy bone.

Enraged still by the confrontation on what she’d hoped would be the start of a fun experience here in her new hometown, she barely noticed the way people parted before her. Blue eyes sending off electric, angry light, full lips drawn in a tight line, she moved into and through the lounging area, and stalked right into the largest of the playrooms. Sounds began to permeate her mad;   soft moans, the snapping of toys. Her forward momentum slowed as she drew along an open alcove where a very handsome black man was whimpering. His balls were drooping low, a heavy metal device shackled around them, tugging them towards the floor. A woman, a stunning woman with flame colored hair and a beatific smile snapped a small crop against one of his nipples, upon which a wire clothes pin had been placed. He jolted with each shocking snap of the crop on the pin. This made the device tormenting his testicles wiggle, making him squeal with the pleasure-pain.

She recognized the woman as the one who’d come up to stop the asshole from hassling her.

“Feeling better?” the redhead asked, while continuing to flick the nipples of her toy.

“I…yes. Thank you for …” her words trailed off as she watched a stream of sex juice begin to drip from the man’s penis. He grunted, moaned, as the maddened shaft seemed to pulse.

“Tisk, tsk,” the redhead chided her plaything. “Did I tell you it was okay to come, sweet boy?”

“n-no Mistress…please…I can’t hold it…please Mistress…”

“You’d best hold it.”

Her fingers wrapped around the throat of his cock, just below the head, and squeezed once, hard. His yelp and jolt made Addison jump.

“That’s enough now. On your knees.” The woman frowned, gesturing him down in front of her. She turned for a moment back to Addison.  “Please, accept my apologies for the unfortunate incident. My club appreciates the presence of such a beautiful…submissive?” Her brow lifted in query.

Addison nodded.

“Yes, then, we’re pleased to have you. I’ll be happy to introduce you to some true Doms. Somehow I think I may not be quite to your taste?” The last was spoken with a dash of disappointed humor, something that Addy thought must be difficult to master.

“No, Ma’am. I…well, you’re gorgeous. And terrifying. And…”

“No need to explain futher, my dear. It’s not a problem. Go, wander. Get a drink. Explore. I’ll see you…later.”

Her attention returned to the man kneeling at her feet. As Addison began to move away she heard her say to him, “well, boy that’s quite a mess there. You need to clean that up….”

_______________________

There were all kinds of things happening, some she had seen only on porn sites and thought were only staged. They weren’t. Who knew  a woman could really put something that big in her snatch?! She opted to not go for a second drink, as she got caught up watching a rope master tie an elaborate harness around a woman, and eventually, suspend her. Clever knots pressed against her clitoris, and every wiggle or writhe created pressure or rubbing against the engorged bulb. Her nipples jutted out from tightly wrapped tits; eventually he added clamps with jingly bells on the ends that sang with every twitch and movement. Addison was as turned on as could be, imagining herself in the woman’s position. She’d never been tied like that, just a simple breast harness as her play partner had been in the learning stages of rope play.

“It’s fascinating how a simple little knot can cause such pain…and pleasure.”

The deep voice spoke from just behind her left shoulder. She recognized it immediately, and the scent he wore.

“What’s the matter, no other subs to cajole, or wanna doms to incite?”

“I think you were ‘incited’ enough for all of us, don’t you?”

She turned and stared into tawny eyes that reminded her of a tiger. A shiver threatened, but she tamped the urge down. And that other urge that threatened to make her pussy gush. He was crazy sexy, no doubt knew it too. He got her dander up, to be sure.

“I didn’t start it…”

“You sure as hell finished it. Though I have to say, I’d have loved watching you feed him his own balls…”

His eyes crinkled as he smiled. It wasn’t disarming. It was devastating. And sexy. And ‘oh my gawd’ she thought, he interested her. Her girl bits tingled in response as if to say ‘duh’.

“I’m Michael. Would you like me to walk around with you for a while? Show you what’s what and who’s who?”

He asked. He didn’t cajole, didn’t touch her. There was only a half-smile on that devilish face, a slight tilt of his head as he awaited her response. She might have been able to ignore the tingle. Might have been able to ignore the smile. Might have been able to quell the magnetic response she was having. If he’d been an asshole and demanded she come with him, she might have been able to shake her head, and toss him off. Instead, she rolled her eyes. Damn him to the seven levels of hell for attracting her. For not being an asshole. For being the focus of her as-yet-unreleased anger.

“Fine.” Even to her, the tone sounded ungracious. She softened her voice. He had, after all, tried to keep the asshat from whatever he’d thought he’d try to get away with. It was the thought that counted, even if she wasn’t totally defenseless.

“Just to be clear, I don’t need a knight in shining armor to rescue me. I can take care of myself. And…I’d like for you to take me around the club, thank you.”

“No you wouldn’t. But we’ll work on that.” He paused for just a moment before His smile deepened and a dimple appeared.  My gods, if he’d done that before, it would have slayed her. Damn. A dom with a dimple? She was cooked.

“Just for the record? I’m definitely not a knight in armor–shining or otherwise. Perhaps you’ll find that out for yourself sometime. And I appreciate a submissive who can keep herself safe. Doormats are rather boring.”

He strolled off without even attempting to take her arm and physically “guide” her. Which was another thing she might have expected. Damn, but he was busting up Dom stereotypes left and right. She might already be sunk. A deep breath and sigh followed that thought, and then she hurried to catch up with him.

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HOWDY! IT’s COOKIE TIME!

Hot off the presses from our famed Cookie Mistress, Jz, here are her words to you all…remember that the more, the merrier! Sharing cookie recipes is fun, and a great way to find something new without having to spend an hour or more scanning a bunch of online cookie sites. (Trust me, I’ve done it too–this is WAY better!)

On Wednesday, December 7th 2016,
The seventh celebration of the increasingly inaccurately named
Great Online Cookie Exchange Extravaganza
Returns!

And I hope that you (yes, you!) will join us.

The rules are pretty simple:

1- Post a recipe on that day for a holiday goodie.

That’s it – rules finished.
*dusts off hands*

The goodie doesn’t have to a cookie… or even be sweet.
That, in fact, is where the increasing inaccuracy comes in – because we have all KINDS of goodies on offer! (There are many forms of holiday goodie love, after all.)

The one catch is that if you want to get your name on the official list of participants:
You must contact me (Jz) by Monday, Dec. 5th, with both your name and the address of your blog. (I don’t mind if you do this through the comments section below, but if you do, please make sure that you include an email address at which I can reach you. << why I prefer an email – two birds with one cyber-stone.)

I’ll also be happy to post a recipe for anyone who’d rather participate that way.

I hope to hear from you (yes, you!) soon!

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Thanks, Lovely Peeps!

Your comments are all deeply appreciated. I hate being *that* writer who doesn’t write back  to every comment…frankly it’s rude. I’ve tried really hard these last 7 years or so to make sure everyone got a response from me, because I know just how much courage it can take to post a comment on a blog.

I remember shaking when I finally hit ‘send’ and then hoping and praying that it garnered enough attention that the writer would deign to reply to me. It didn’t happen often at first, but when it did, I was giddy for days. Who amongst us doesn’t like feeling special? We ALL do.

And you all are.

Yes. YOU.

Special and precious. And I’ve not been blogging because we have a happy wrinkle in my personal life, which has added a bit more ‘duties’ to my day. Along with a bunch of my other friends, we have a new puppy. It seems to be puppy month in my circle. And he’s adorable and wonderful–and a puppy. Eighty-eight thousand treks outside to work on housebreaking with moderate success. We’ll get there, but, as you might know…it takes time.

Please know that I’m trying really hard to eke out story writing time. I was thinking about why this is so much harder, and then I realized–my kids are old enough (and rude/curious enough!) to pop into the room where I’m writing and read over my shoulder. So I’m being really careful to write when they are otherwise occupied. But it’s a challenge, to be sure. When they were little, easy. Lots of time. Different job then, different way of life, when you have toddlers. When they are teens? Oh my. Running here and there, keeping up with all their activities…for kids who are homeschooled, we sure have very little downtime!! (If I only had a nickel for every time I was asked about how I would socialize my kids…!)

I’m eking out some time with friends (blogfriends) –because it’s SO important to keep that circle whole. There are people who touch you…no, no, not that way. Get yer mind out of the gutter! As I was saying, before your pervy minds went awry…there are people who touch you that you just know will be a ‘forever friend’…and I’m lucky enough to know a bunch of them. It is such a relief to have someone to talk to about the ups and downs of a D/s relationship..a conversation you can’t have with just any old person. Not to mention that I have some of the neatest friends in their own right, D/s affiliations notwithstanding! Funny and interesting and entertaining. It’s nice to have ‘downtime’ to clear my head and recharge my batteries.

Not for my dildo, no. There you go again, perving up everything I say.

You guys. Sheesh!

Anyway, I WILL respond to your comments, because I love them and they are encouraging and funny and supportive. It’s been a rocky month for M and I but things are clear and we’re smooth sailing. Maybe I’ll get a play day before I’m 60. Yeah. That’s a few years away…but you know I’ve got that pessimistic nature lurking inside me…

But your comments helped bolster me–it was SO hard for me to write that for Him. And hard to paint him in a negative light. Because he isn’t doing anything wrong, we were just in a rut and it was easier to go along…and while I’m not really a ‘biddable woman’…it was getting far to easy to push my submissive, pain slutty needs away and let work consume me. A lot of work means no time to deal with issues…and that’s easier, right?

Yeah. No.

We  haven’t seen one another since that meeting, and that’s 100% on me and 0% on my most beneficent master. *insert silly grin here* I have been flat out busy and am literally falling into bed and fast asleep within seconds-quite an accomplishment for this woman, often afflicted with insomnia. Ha. I’ve found the cure. Work 18 hours a day nonstop. It’s hard the first day, and by the 2nd? You too can be on your face in the mattress, snoring with your sneakers still tied onto your aching feet.

It’s a wonderful thing.

Right?

*snorts*

Have a great rest of your week peeps! I’ll be counting down to my funtime with my blog friend. Maybe we’ll even write about it.😀

 

nilla

Ps. no time to prroofread thus. sux it up if i had typos.

*laughing hyseterclly*

 

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An Ode To Master on His Birthday

Master is an interesting Fellow…

sometimes he’s mean and other times? Mellow.

He thinks he’s mean down to his core,
but he has a heart that he can’t ignore.
He gave it to his loving slut, nilla,
She of merry laugh and tits like a pilla,
She holds his heart in secret places,
tied up tight like corset laces.
He is brave and fierce, seems innocuous and kind…
yet truly he loves beating  her pale, round behind!
What they are is wrong…and yet so right…
You’ll hear her serenity scream in the night.
He feeds her cravings with His fist and flogger,
and He knows she’ll write of it coz she’s also a blogger!
A Master of such Grace and Poise might be hard to find
Unless you look towards nilla’s behind.
For there he beats and fucks and plays,
a Dominant force who is sweet…and depraved.
A better man you’ll never meet,
He is canny and classy out on the street.
But behind closed doors, his nature shows
For the Beast within becomes exposed.
His slut is there to feed his need,
to wear the marks of each dirty deed.
She glows with bruises, purple, pink, and red,
a tumbled mess upon His bed.
But a happier pair you’ll never see…
for she loves Him and He loves she.
Master and nilla, a more twisted pair
you shall not find just anywhere.
You might think you know them, these two elder folks,
but if you think they’re  sedate, well, then you are the joke.
Two more depraved people you might never meet,
as they walk right beside you down any old street.
Oh they’re sweet and they’re older on the outside you see,
but inside they are filled with pure depravity.
They like to beat, and be beaten in turn,
they crave it you see, they actually yearn.
Together they are the yin to their yang,
with each lovely slap, and every fierce bang.
A slut and her Master are a wonderful sight,
And a Master like Him is a true delight!
(Happy Birthday Master!)
Love,
nilla
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HNT~Redhead

2016-11-09 22.53.30.jpg

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I Brought My Collar With Me…

…when we met today.

You know, just in case He wanted to release me.

He wasn’t pleased, exactly (though not mad, He doesn’t get mad with me, ever), at my painting him in such a negative light yesterday. He did, in fact, tell me I had to admit that I was 100% wrong in my assessment of him. I laughed a  bit, he laughed a bit, but also that steely look of his that just makes me melt inside. And I knew again how it was that I loved this man. We talked for an hour over lunch about the stuff that connects us…about our families, and funny anecdotes, and happy things.

But after lunch we did really talk seriously about our issue.

I know that he feels the need as keenly as I do; this whole “no time to be together” issue is what we’re trying to iron out. He’s working a ton, I’m working a ton…and neither of us us happy about so much time without seeing one another.

It helped to be able to write it out–my unhappy feelings, my unmet needs–and then send the blog post to him. He could see where I was, that it wasn’t some amorphous “girl feeling”, but a real, keenly felt lack.

We’re still trying to figure out a way to make more time for one another. It doesn’t help that we’re 40 miles apart (which isn’t like everyone who does the LDR life and is hundreds of miles distant, I know). But we’re both on the same page.

As we wound down, I told him that I’d brought my collar, in case He’d wanted it back.

“I had a feeling about that,” he said, but he didn’t want it back, and it’s still in my possession, which means that I’m still in HIS possession.

And yes, I’m happier. I’m glad, recharged, for the time we spent. For hearing more about his physical health, a major player in our lack of playtime. He was in an accident and while he wasn’t seriously injured, it did cause some damage that he’s been slowly recovering from.

But in this casual, almost offhand, this oh-so-natural way, he says, “When we get together for playtime I’m going to beat the shit out of you, and I need to be closer to 100% for that or else I won’t be able to lift my arm and pick my nose, and you know what a problem that could be.”

Just that…turned me into a wet puddle of slut.

I didn’t tell him, mind you. But I felt it, that shivery thing that he  does to me. It puts me on alert and wakes my senses. It says “warning, danger ahead”…and that just makes me throb. It let me know that  this…this Dom “thing”…it’s not a “thing” at all…it’s part of  who he is, right down in his DNA. It’s not a garment that he puts on or takes off, it’s part and parcel of him. He wasn’t playing a game, he was just informing me. It wasn’t a prepared speech, it just came out naturally.

It makes me hot and wet just writing it again.

I still have my Dom. I still have my collar. I still have scheduling issues.

BUT…

I know that HE cares about this as much as I do. That his silliness on the phone or texting is just part of Him, his smartassyness factor. (something else that’s hardwired in his DNA…!).

We’re good. We’re going to be okay. And we need each other (it’s not just me being needy and that’s such a good thing to know.)

Thanks for all the kind and caring words, all the hugs and encouragement. It was great to have the support of this community of pervie peeps. We are not alone. I am not alone. You are not alone. We are weird. We are wackjobs. And we’re horny as fuck.

And we’re all okay.

 

 

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Struggling

I know I’ve been absent for a while…I’ve missed not one but TWO Hnt’s, something I’ve not ever done since I started doing it.

I’m in relationship quandary, you see. Well, that’s part of my struggling, anyway.

What IS a relationship? When you start as strangers in a virtual world, then become intimate in the real one…when you speak or text at least once a day, but don’t see one another for more than 3 times in a calendar year…

I don’t know. I just don’t know how to define this new paradigm. It’s not Him, or not only. It’s me too, because I’m part and parcel of the change in our time availability. I love Him, and have forever. But I love my vanilla life, too.

There was a time I didn’t and was lost.

And then I found this dissolute way. A new way of thinking that brought me calm serenity, and self acceptance. A way that made me feel whole when I was broken. Like the Chinese pots mended with gold to accentuate the flaws and celebrate the beauty of the healed break, D/s and discovering being a painslut, and that …and gosh won’t this resonate for everyone…that I wasn’t alone.

I might be strange in the head, but by damn, so are a lot of people.

But when you’re a painslut and your drug is cut off, are you still able to wear the term, and to accept that part of yourself? I’ve filled the void missing from my D/s life–filled it with being vanilla busy, filled it with work.

So that when He cancels a playtime, or can’t make it to face time, I’m not felled by the disappointment like I was when it happened years ago when this was all new to me. And these days there are far to many missed times, and because i’m also submissive, just shrugging it off and telling him ‘that’s okay, I get it’..because I can fill that void with work, and more work, until I’m too exhausted to remember what it is I’m missing.

My D/s friends that carry over to my vanilla life will vouch for the fact that I’m an absolute wackjob when it comes to being busy. I can’t sit still. I can’t not work. I can’t not have something to do every minute of the day.

And I’m a fucking perfectionist and I hate that. I try really hard to not let that rule me, to accept that i’m not perfect, but it carries into my D/s life when I, essentially, lie when I tell him ‘that’s okay’.

Because it’s not.

It rips a hole in me, leaves a blank space that is a void. He used to be the only person who could fill that. But this year he’s been absent from my needs.

Wow. That’s NOT what I meant to write there. But my fingers just wrote it anyway.

He’s been absent from my needs this year.

And with that old “nature abhors a vacuum” axiom, things rush in to fill the gap. Extra things to do with my kids, things around the house to fix or do, and work. My work –I love it, but like anything loved to excess–obsession looms, right?

It keeps me sane, I tell my friends, explaining why I love what I do.

What i would say, if it weren’t vanilla friends is it keeps me from missing my connection with my Master.

But nilla.. He texts you at least once a day.

But nilla…you and he talk on the phone several times a week.

My gods I want to just stand out in my backyard and scream!!!

“IT’S NOT ENOUGH!”

Because this isn’t what I signed up for. This is not the relationship I envisioned.

NO.

This isn’t the relationship that I had.

And now it is.

And I’m just not sure anymore if it really is a relationship at all.

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T is for Tits…and Trouble

If I was a naughty girl (hehe) I’d have made some smartassy comment about being a teabagger–and you all would’ve had a verrrrrry different thought about what this post was all about. I would have been referring to being in hot water like a teabag, you see, and not about licking M’s balls…no matter how exciting that prospect would have been.

Yes, I’m in hot, hot water my peeps. I forgot a task. A regular task. It’s basically His fault, too. *grins* Kinda. Sorta.

Okay, not.

But still. Kinda.

(You know right there that I’m being a naughty sub right? Not the obedient, willing nilla, nope. I’ve been off the leash too long, friends, and I’m running amok.)

I know, I know, you want your tit pic. Just hang in there a minute, willya?

I’m deeply in the hole with half-o’s. (That’s a double entendre that really works, you know?!)

I keep missing the over/under on our football bets. Two weeks ago? Lost BIGTIME when the Patriot’s coughed up a giant goose egg. Yeah, a number that represented how many O’s I’d won that week…N.0.N.E. It did not represent how many half-o’s I got. 16. On top of 4 that He’d traded me down to (it had been 20, but if I gave up another orgasm…you know how that goes…)…

So  he has me do two half-o’s on Saturday. Now, I’m a horny wired up bitch. I’ve not had an orgasm in nearly a month, and two with only 20 seconds between? O. M. G.

Seriously, Master, one would think you’re a fucking SADIST. 

But I survived. And did my research on the game this past week. Made my bet with M…and came unfuckingbelievably  so close. So close. I lost by one. Damned. Point. So I only get one more half o but *still*.

Really?

REALLY?

So because of the two half o’s he gave me over the weekend..and the loss of any new O’s coming into my currently-in-the-negative O ‘bank’…..I fucked up. It’s not my problem if I forgot that Saturday wasn’t Monday’s half o’s…right? Anyone?

I should also add that like most of you (I’d wager) Monday holidays totally mess up your mental calendar. You go to work Tuesday thinking it was Monday and yada yada yada…I worked alllll day Monday doing house stuff, really physical stuff that wiped me out. By 11 I not only was ready for bed, I all but landed on it like a felled tree…timberrrrrr…*thunk* lights out nilla.

I woke on Tuesday feeling so good. Mmm, nothing beats a good nights sleep after a hard day of physical labor, amiright?

And hell, it was doubly good! M hadn’t suggested that I skip my O that night in exchange for a reduction in my half o’s… oh yeah, life was gooood.

And I had the BEST (self generated) orgasm ever.

EVER.

His text comes in the next morning…”and how was the prep work Monday night for getting that old O last night?”

He knew.

He fucking knew I’d forgotten. Totally and completely didn’t remind me because, duh, it’s a rule and I’ve been doing it for months now unless he’s given me the night off (as trade for giving up the o…)…..

He never loses his temper. Never raises his voice, shouts, gets dramatic, none of that, not once in 8 years. But he sure as hell gets his point across in the most polite ways.

So I’m in Trouble, getting LOTS of half-o’s today at times that it is NOT an expected thing and I’ll be horny alllll damn day.

I did send him a titpic to try to soften Him up (it never works, but you can’t blame a slut for trying) after my shower while I was creaming up my skin. Kind of a hint…wanting him to “cream” me…

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I hate when I fall off the grid like that…

…but it happens.

Leading up to the holiday weekend, working every day…every day. Plus a rush rush rush of a job for 10 days–I didn’t even turn on my computer for 7 days. I haven’t done that since I’ve *had* a computer!!  I was so out straight that my only facebook time was when I was on the toilet…and then only when a kid wasn’t popping into the room to ask me something important. You know those questions…like where did I put my red pen, can I have popcorn in the living room, and by the way the cat threw up on the hallway carpet.

Sheesh.

Even my time with M was down to a bare minimum of good morning and good night texts, though I did call a few times, HE was too busy to answer.

Wait.

Wasn’t the computer age going to give us MORE free time? What the fuck, peeps?? I seriously have way less time, and suspect that you do, too. Because we can’t get away from it. And really–would you want to? Because even when we’re stuck to it for work, the internet gives us great things like tit pix and cock pix and dirty stories, and all sorts of stuff that previous generations had to work way harder to access.

But now I think I’m kind of caught up on real life stuff for a while, and trying to be moderate in how often I say “yes” to things because really, working 18 hours a day is a bit much…doing it for 10 days is crazy. I mean, when am I even going to have a second to think about being fucked? Being beaten. Man, do I need a good beating.

And then out of the blue, M sends me a text to pick a date for playtime, tells me the days he’s not available and sends me reeling. M does NOT do this. Not ever. But sheesh, I hate to tell you all how long it’s been since I’ve seen him, and even longer, like 10 months, for real, since a playtime. I need a playtime so much I can’t even think of an appropriate simile for how much.

It’s been so long that I wondered if I was boring him with the mundanity of my life, which has really sucked up all my sexy good stuff…and asked him if he was breaking up with me…(after he suggested I find a few doms I might like to play with, for him to vett)…

to which I got a resounding NO!

Phew.

I don’t want to play with anyone else, just my Master. (I hate to be and sound blase about it but been there, done that, had the experience and it was fine, but I’m just wanting my very own M. Anyway, that’s why I thought that he wanted to break up, to pawn me off on someone else.)

But he doesn’t. I’m still his, and he was just thinking I needed more something. Well I do. But the something i need most is Him.

We’re both on the same page about it, and even though it wasn’t very submissive of me to throw down my “no” card…I did it. He didn’t want it for his own pleasure, but for what he perceived I might be missing. Isn’t it funny in a way that he thought I wasn’t happy with him while I was thinking the same thing in reverse? “I don’t want” isn’t a good thing for a sub to say, yet there are times when one must…and I’m glad I did.

So now the holiday is over, and we’re in quiet mode until Thanksgiving…and I’ll be back to carving out some writing time. Thanks to those who wanted to make sure I was okay, since I’ve tried hard to not go dark here…I do appreciate your caring!

 

 

 

 

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