This is kind of a ‘snippet’s post. I’m having a lucky night and my computer decided to do what computers are supposed to…in short, the poor old dear is dying and my new machine won’t be here until later in the week. If I bloop off, that’s why.
I’ve been swamped in my vanilla life, as I’m sure any of you with kids or families are during this holiday season. And like anyone else those nasty bugs have been travelling through the family as well. The coughing thing, the stomach bug, the sniffles, the 24-hour fever.
Wrapped all around and through the things I’ve needed to do? Thoughts of Him. Thoughts of the things He did to me, of the laughs and the tears, the pain and the orgasms. Of the mysteries of “what is it” to the fantasy-fullfillment of “Please Sir, will you cane my tits”. I’d be doing some mundane thing and I’d remember the sound of His voice teasing me. Or the sensation of my body. I’m still wearing the badges of bruises, on my ass, on my breasts…still feeling deeply connected to Him, still floating and happy. I think after all this time together, there is less propensity for “subcrash”…I *know* He will be there and answering my texts, and teasing me, that He cares for and about me. He shows it in the texts and emails, and also by things like this:
me: Master may I please have an O tonight? I’m so horny!!
Him: you are always horny, nilla. No. You had 366 orgasms on Sunday.
me: But Masterrrrrr…
*in the morning after a deep sleep*
me: Good morning Master. You were correct. I slept like a rock.
Him: I’m always right nilla. And it’s My job to look after you.
Okay, you can say it now…’aaawwww….”
He is sweet. Even when He’s being mean. Or what seems “mean” when I really want an O and He really won’t let me have one.
Master knows best is His motto.
And He always does.