It’s going to be a crazy next few weeks…and my writing time this week is down to minutes. So this is all you will get from me for a few days. Next week should be quieter. (yay!) I am glad to be busy, but it does leave me precious little time for writing the rest of some of those stories that are dancing about in my head seeking escape!
I am going to do something very different in a few weeks.
I will be *totally* disconnected, unplugged, for just shy of a week. No internet. No facecrack. No D/s blogs. No emails. And worst of all? No contact with Master.
In our 5 years together, this is the first time, ever ever ever that we’ve gone more than a day without touching base with one another.
It gives me a sick-ish feeling in my belly, all nervous and worried. He’s my anchor and my rock. And I won’t be able to even send Him a text. I’ll be having fun, but those nights in my tent will be, simply put, torture.
Between then and now I have good things happening. I’m going to be having a time to hang out with Jz, which I’m looking forward to. I *had* been hoping to have time to hang out with her and meet greengirl, but unfortunately, my still wonky back was not up to the drive/train time and I had to cancel. (I know, how terribly disappointing, to come *that* close to meeting one of my favorite bloggers! Dang it!) I’m going to have some kind of time with Master this weekend. Not sure if it will be playtime or coffee (again that depends on my stoopid back–but I’m going to see the Doctor this week so hopefully we can get this worked out.)
Annnnd….on a side note to the above, I was whining to Master about how this makes it hard to claim that I’m a bona-fide masochist, since this is NOT sexy pain…and there is this ….pause. I frown at the phone as the silence extends.
“Yanno nilla,” His voice comes at last (and yes, He said “yanno”…always a prelude to something Domly/dastardly). And he pauses again.
“Yanno nilla…I’ve heard…..*pause*….that half-0’s are a good cure for that sort of angst.”
*insert sound of waterfalls, crickets, the whirr of a running fan here*
“I love the sound of silence from your end of the phone,” he chuckles.
“I-bda-abada…..” I stutter.
He laughs some more.
“Yes. That.” He is grinning, I can practically feel it, while my heart flutters worriedly in my chest.
In the end, I giggled too. He did manage to knock me right out of my funk with that little threat. (a threat that reappeared in our conversation on my way home last night…rut roe). And that is the magic of Master. Just a few short words and I’m snugged right back in my place, the “small s” as He reminded me firmly.
It’s a really comfortable place to be.