Master and I hooked up after six long weeks apart. Dang, February was wicked up here–so glad that’s behind us now. I hugged him hard, and HE let me kiss him…while pinching me. *eyeroll*
Later he inspected my hair (I’m a plethora of colors just now–purple stripe and others), pulling and tugging it hard. Yup, right there in the coffee shop where we were meeting. Man, nothing makes me wetter than hair pulling. And maybe the added embarrassment of it being in public? I’m not really an exhibitionist by nature, so it adds a layer when he does this stuff out in the open like that.
So did I tell you about the new rules? I think I have, some time ago. I HAVE to have a half-O on Thursday (aka-edging)…there is no if, and, or but about it. Except this past week, when I got home from work, I had a niggly headache. When bedtime rolled around it was really full blown. But I can’t take headache meds before bed or it gives me terrible insomnia, so I just went to bed. No half O, no toys, no touching. Thankfully I fell asleep right away and slept off the headache. I was feeling much better in the morning, except for the guilt of not performing the half-O as I’m supposed to.
Of course, I have to text him in the morning and let him know what was going on. And he is the most benificient of Masters….I had to pay a penalty…but not be punished. Like a fine. Except it wasn’t “fine” at all. The next night I had to choose between 3-half-o’s, the one I missed plus two penalty ones, OR I could do 2-half-o’s–with the bigger of my two butt plugs up my bum.
I was shocked, kinda.
Not at the punishment, but at the sheer deviousness about it. THREE? How could I do three? But a butt plug? I hate them, but they *always* make me gush. I have had some of the most intense orgasms of my life with something up my ass.
(Good thing this is a sex blog, with that kind of “out there” confession, eh? LOL)
The conflict raged all day in my head. Back and forth. Could I do 3 without an “oops” moment (which would earn me a punishment)? Could I do 2 without an “oops” with the added excitement of the butt plug?
When we talked that night, he asked about my decision.
“I have NO idea, M,” I said.
And it’s true. I was clueless. I told Him of my dilemma, which made him laugh, the bastard. Oh, he was *delighted* that he’d fucked with my head all day, and that he’d be fucking up my body from afar that night.
He didn’t make me choose then, generously giving me right up to the moment of inception to decide. As I got into bed I pondered my options, and eventually went for the three. That last one was….grit-your-teeth-fucking-hard. Yeah, that hard. I was shivering, shaking, wet and wanton.
And by damn was I turned on. It was a restless night, to be sure. (And of course, keeping HIM on my mind all night.)
During our face time, he revisits the topic of the the dilemma. He gets this…gleam…in his eye. It’s how I know the sadist is looking at me, and it makes me shiver and get turned on, and very, very nervous.
“You know nilla,” he says, his voice deceptively mild, “you’re really going to enjoy ZNN this week. You get to use the option that you didn’t choose.”
It takes a moment for that to sink in. My mouth opens and closes but no words come. I blink, and that look is still on his face.
“W-whaat?” I say, perplexed.
Oh, how he chuckles.
“The option that you didn’t choose? The butt plug and two half o’s? That’s this Thursday’s ZNN. That way you’ll know if you chose the right option on Friday.”
Literally, I go “b-b-b-b-b-b-b…ut….”
He smiles, his eyes gleaming brightly. I’m well and truly fucked. Well and truly fucked, my peeps. Finally I whisper “That’s really mean, Master.”
“I know,” he says.
Later, over our shared scone, we’re talking about our playday. It had to be bumped a week (my fault!)…and it turns out it was okay, since it’s supposed to be bad weather here that day. UGH!
But we’re talking about it, because I’d asked him to beat me hard…that I need a really good spanking. The noise in my brain is going into overdrive lately. He agreed that there was nothing like an OTK hard spanking to calm a slut down.
But over our scone he knocks on the wall. I stare at him.
“That’s the sound that you might hear on the door to our room during playday, nilla.”
“Visitors. Maybe.What do you care? You’ll be blindfolded and used however I want it.”
And he knocks on the wall again, looking at me with those eyes.