Monday I received a lovely square box on my front porch. I’d been forewarned of its immenant arrival…and when I heard the “thud” outside, I knew exactly what had happened.
The Package had arrived.
It was with no small amount of worry that I opened the box. The sender has long been known to salt her packages with copious quantities of glitter, after all. Cautiously, I slit the sides, then the top. First, a quick peer into the darkness.
Carefully, as if handling a live grenade, I pulled off the paper. My mouth fell open. I started to smile.
I may be a nymphomanic slut…but I am also, deep in my heart of hearts, a fabric whore. There is (almost) nothing I like more than going to a fabric store, finding myself surrounded by hues of blue, or green, or reds, oranges, yellows…a veritable rainbow of fabric; the touch of peachskin, or flannel or silk as appealing as cotton and corduroy. I love fabric (just ask aisha how much time we spent in a fabric store, the orgasmic frenzy of touching
everything in the store some of the bolts of fabric.)
And there was a lot of fabric in the box, all beautiful batiks. There is a quilt in that box, ladies and gents…it just hasn’t been made yet… 🙂
But the box was fairly weighty for even the fabric contained within. And when all the yardage was removed…guess what nilla found at the very bottom?
A green nylon bag.
It’s heavy, and when I lift it out I need to support it with my other hand. Quickly I wisk that upstairs, hiding it in my room.
Okay, I peeked.
Before I hid it. Just a wee peek.
And then my hand just found its way inside, you see. And I touched one. Pulled it out. Felt the weight of it in my hand.
A flogger. (my first)
It has a gorgeous blue handle. Covered with suede. Here is a picture of it:
I slapped it on my leg.
It left marks that lingered for an hour or more. The joy of marking easily. There was a pleasant after-tingle, too.
And then I sent Master a text, telling Him that He’d received a gift in my box. He knew who it was from right off. And figured out what it was with few clues.
He had me send pictures of them all. His delight was, and remains, palpable.
We’re getting another of those mini-meets Saturday, and I asked Him if He wanted me to bring the bag.
We won’t be having playtime this weekend; originally He thought that He may have to go out-of-town. That didn’t happen, but I made plans around His being away. Playtime will happen in a few more weeks and that is when He’ll try out the new toys that Wordwitch and her Master, Wolf, sent to U/us.
What a gift.
I’m both thrilled, and nervous as hell about them. Master is very careful of me, but He does enjoy hurting me good. And He stops when He is good and ready to stop. Which is always a bit after when *I* think He should stop.
Don’t get me wrong…the pain is fucking awesome. But ya know? It’s pain!
Endorphins will kick in eventually…it’s just getting to that point…
He has set me to a task with a deadline of Sunday. I must first lay out all the whips/flails in order of fear-factor, on a scale of 1-10. Then I must take a second picture, rating them in order of my curiosity factor. It strikes me as a very interesting thing. There are definitely several that I am quite fearful of…and there is one that straddles the line quite nicely between fear and curiosity.
I love the way His mind works. I wonder if my ass (thighs, tits, belly…) will feel the same way in a few weeks?
Am hoping to have some time for writing later today but today is a heavily scheduled day for me. If I don’t poke my nose in here this weekend, I’ll be back on Monday. Master has been after me again about posting daily. Even aisha pointed out to me that a post saying “i’m not posting” is, indeed, still a post! Good point.
And I simply won’t have a single moment for writing all weekend. A slut was never more happy to get out of Dodge and go to work as this one….it has been a hell of a week (and the full moon isn’t until NEXT week….) with my kiddo’s. Anyone else had Mr. or Ms. Smartmouth, Screamfest, or Argue visiting their homes this week? Because they sure as hell have spent a lot of time at my place and I’m happy to have them move on.
Master has been a bastion of support during my travails this week, which I have deeply appreciated. Everyone needs someone to just listen…and then make terrible and sadistic ideas for handling the woes of vanilla life…! He makes me laugh, He does, and lightens my load with it.
🙂 I’m a pretty lucky slut, aren’t I?