Then again…this being me?
Not 100% likely.
So, I’ve been under the weather these last two weeks, which is part of why I was so very far behind in replying to all of your comments (and I thank you all for your patience as I worked my way backwards to answer them all!).
The week before meeting Master, I broke out in shingles. I had Chicken Pox as an adult, a mild case, and my shingles are also very mild. I have felt guilty even feeling “under the weather” truth be told, because my break out of rash is very minuscule) and my pain level was non-existent until I started taking the anti-viral medication my Dr. insisted I take. And even that has been manageable. My main issue? Exhaustion.
This whole thing has knocked me on my ass with “tired”…and that? Totally pisses me off. I have WAY too much to do, to put up with being tired all the fucking time! I have blogposts to write, stories to craft, comments to reply to…not to mention working 2 jobs, homeschooling 2.5 kids, and all the various and sundry household tasks.
My peeps still need clean clothing. We need to do errands. The dog wants to go out. And in. And out. And in. Sheesh.
And really? They want to eat 3-4 times EVERY day. Sheesh, to the second power (yes, fiona, that was for you!).
So the worst is (I’m pretty certain) behind me. Almost done with the stupid meds, the rash is healing, the pain is something I can cope with. Really hoping that the tired part will end soon. For now I’m just taking it one day at a time.
ON an entirely different note, I had some good face time with Master on Sunday. We had lunch together, which was lovely. He….makes me blush. His eyes get all “hawkish” as He sets me up. I was plucking at my roll, and He says…”Know how to open that?”
I look up at Him, sensing domething…..(not a typo, that!)…
“uh…no?” I say tentatively.
“you just slide your finger slowly up the lip…I mean, the edge, of it, and it will just open nice and wide for you.”
I stare at Him, not sure if what I heard was what I understood that He was saying. He takes the fucking roll and demonstrates.
Sliding His thumb up along the side seam, making me shift in my seat, making me blush as we lock eyes.
“You have to be careful when you do that though,” He says, softly, pulling my attention to Him. He pauses a heartbeat or two, and I’m gazing at Him, rapt.
“Could be verrrry wet inside.” He cocks His head at me, smiles at my very obvious discomfiture.
I hide my face, and giggle helplessly. I peek between my fingers and He’s looking at me with that look, making me wet, and embarrassed, and….giggly.
It was just a week prior that we were behind closed doors, when He was opening me just as He did that bun.
And He did indeed find something verrry wet there. . .
Out of deference to the fact that on our playday, I had a very sore knee, we did not do a “Wall Inspection” on the wall…but on the bed. He has a thick belt that wraps around my waist, which has loops for my wrists just in front. The velcro closure is wide, and impossible for me to free myself from. Once I’m tight and secure, He pushes me, face-first, onto the bed.
“Stay,” He growls.
“Like I could move,” I mutter.
He whacks my ass. Hand, I think. I’m sure that was for my being a smartass. And it was true…there was no way to move once He had me down like that, laying on my arms, my hands. What happened next? Lots of spanking. Lots.
I can’t tell you how long it lasted…He just knows exactly how much I can take before I’m “broken”…and it hurts, and burns and feels so fucking good. I’m gasping, crying, breathing, yelping…I can’t see a thing, cannot hear Him moving around, never know where the next blow is coming from, nor where it will fall.
He popped my thigh so intensely that I still have a bulls-eye bruise covering the entire back of it. He flipped me to my back and popped my tits, spread my thighs and beat my pussy…until I came so hard I squirted.
“You…you fucking *slut*,” He says, His voice amazed. “You just came? From my beating your pussy?”
“Yessir,” I moan, still feeling the after-affects roiling in my belly. OMG I hurt and I’m so turned on…it’s a crazy mix of pain and pleasure that He makes just so right.
The bruises faded fast, excepting the bite mark on my shoulder that melded into a heart-shape, (giggle…you all KNOW how He feels about ‘hearts’…!) and the one on my thigh. He also pinched a deep purple bruise right in my butt-crack.
So fucking mean.
Do you know how *hard* it is to get a good pic of your butt crack bruise? *shakes head* Doms!
All of those memories rush back in as His finger strokes the roll suggestively. I watch his thumb moving up and down, dipping inside to touch the soft stuff there…and remember, with a sudden stab of intense longing, when the softness He was touching was me.