Some days are like this, I know. The kind of day that makes you want to draw on the walls with jello, and gurgle happily. La La La….
It was a wicked fuck of a day and …wait a moment here….. yanno… I’ve used that phrase before and suddenly…it seems wrong, doesn’t it? I mean, in *our* world, a wicked fuck is a good thing. Well, that leaves me with no good expression to describe my fu-…my rotten day. That sucks.
I do that too.
Well, fu… *sigh*… when did my D/s start to ruin my wicked bad expressions, anyway? Need I use vanilla terms to describe my bad days???
“oh yes, nilla had such a miserable day.”
Oh, right. Like that says enough.
Shit Day is the best I can come up with.
And that made me think about anal sex.
Doesn’t everyone think about anal sex? You don’t? Really?
I’ll bet deep down you do. 🙂
Anyway. I was trying to decide if I like it or don’t. There are parts I don’t, to be sure. And HE knows them and uses them on me just to get a rise out of me. But I have wicked intense orgasms from anal sex so there you go. It’s a trade-off.
Now that I’ve diverted down this hopelessly convoluted path to here, I can tell you that I hadn’t meant to go there. Like…just not. Sometime I’ll sit down and we can have a lovely natter about butt fucking. But today is not that day, and tomorrow isn’t looking hopeful either.
What I really wanted to talk about was this task I have looming ahead of me, which is why I’m blogging and not doing it. I’ve not had an O since…..um….shit. Like Day. Tuesday, last. I lost an O for my snit, and another just because. And another because I was tired. And another because He wanted to get me all sexed up and have nowhere to go. And then there was today (Monday)…
And I got His text to start clit flicking at 11 (that’s 11 flicks at 11). And later a text saying pussy grabs at 3 (those pussy grabs turn me on like wildfire.)
But I’ve had this shit day, you see. Where things came up and things happened and I had two jobs today and not one, and my kids were aliens and and and…it’s going on 10 pm.
There hasn’t been one fucking flick.
No pussy grabs.
I told Him. Sent Him a late-day text letting Him know there’d been a substantial delay. On my way home from work, while running errands (the fun in this day never ends)…I called Him. Told Him again that nothing had been done.
“Good thing you won’t get an O then…you’ll be far too busy catching up on those flicks” He says nonchalantly.
It’s another orgasm-free day. Sad but true. And all part of the Shit Day. All sexed up and no place to put it.
Except, of course, in His hands, where He can enjoy every moment of my turned on squirming.
“This is proof. I have zero doubt. You are a full-on Sadist.”
I write this to Him via text. I wonder what He will say. Will He smack me down for my temerity? He doesn’t unduly torment me in my day-to-day life, after all. He understands the mommy demands, the wifey demands, the living demands on my time and energy and ability to serve. He doesn’t want a wench to grovel and moan piteously unless He is there to hear it, He’s told me that in the past. So I wait, almost a bit nervously. After all, I’ve not been in top-10 communicating form with Him these last two weeks…and there was that wee snark on Saturday….and I check..and YES!
A text from Master. Nervously I open it. And giggle. Remember I told you He is a man of few words? Yeah. This sums Him up nicely. He wrote: