T is for Tits…and Trouble

If I was a naughty girl (hehe) I’d have made some smartassy comment about being a teabagger–and you all would’ve had a verrrrrry different thought about what this post was all about. I would have been referring to being in hot water like a teabag, you see, and not about licking M’s balls…no matter how exciting that prospect would have been.

Yes, I’m in hot, hot water my peeps. I forgot a task. A regular task. It’s basically His fault, too. *grins* Kinda. Sorta.

Okay, not.

But still. Kinda.

(You know right there that I’m being a naughty sub right? Not the obedient, willing nilla, nope. I’ve been off the leash too long, friends, and I’m running amok.)

I know, I know, you want your tit pic. Just hang in there a minute, willya?

I’m deeply in the hole with half-o’s. (That’s a double entendre that really works, you know?!)

I keep missing the over/under on our football bets. Two weeks ago? Lost BIGTIME when the Patriot’s coughed up a giant goose egg. Yeah, a number that represented how many O’s I’d won that week…N.0.N.E. It did not represent how many half-o’s I got. 16. On top of 4 that He’d traded me down to (it had been 20, but if I gave up another orgasm…you know how that goes…)…

So  he has me do two half-o’s on Saturday. Now, I’m a horny wired up bitch. I’ve not had an orgasm in nearly a month, and two with only 20 seconds between? O. M. G.

Seriously, Master, one would think you’re a fucking SADIST. 

But I survived. And did my research on the game this past week. Made my bet with M…and came unfuckingbelievably  so close. So close. I lost by one. Damned. Point. So I only get one more half o but *still*.



So because of the two half o’s he gave me over the weekend..and the loss of any new O’s coming into my currently-in-the-negative O ‘bank’…..I fucked up. It’s not my problem if I forgot that Saturday wasn’t Monday’s half o’s…right? Anyone?

I should also add that like most of you (I’d wager) Monday holidays totally mess up your mental calendar. You go to work Tuesday thinking it was Monday and yada yada yada…I worked alllll day Monday doing house stuff, really physical stuff that wiped me out. By 11 I not only was ready for bed, I all but landed on it like a felled tree…timberrrrrr…*thunk* lights out nilla.

I woke on Tuesday feeling so good. Mmm, nothing beats a good nights sleep after a hard day of physical labor, amiright?

And hell, it was doubly good! M hadn’t suggested that I skip my O that night in exchange for a reduction in my half o’s… oh yeah, life was gooood.

And I had the BEST (self generated) orgasm ever.


His text comes in the next morning…”and how was the prep work Monday night for getting that old O last night?”

He knew.

He fucking knew I’d forgotten. Totally and completely didn’t remind me because, duh, it’s a rule and I’ve been doing it for months now unless he’s given me the night off (as trade for giving up the o…)…..

He never loses his temper. Never raises his voice, shouts, gets dramatic, none of that, not once in 8 years. But he sure as hell gets his point across in the most polite ways.

So I’m in Trouble, getting LOTS of half-o’s today at times that it is NOT an expected thing and I’ll be horny alllll damn day.

I did send him a titpic to try to soften Him up (it never works, but you can’t blame a slut for trying) after my shower while I was creaming up my skin. Kind of a hint…wanting him to “cream” me…



I hate when I fall off the grid like that…

…but it happens.

Leading up to the holiday weekend, working every day…every day. Plus a rush rush rush of a job for 10 days–I didn’t even turn on my computer for 7 days. I haven’t done that since I’ve *had* a computer!!  I was so out straight that my only facebook time was when I was on the toilet…and then only when a kid wasn’t popping into the room to ask me something important. You know those questions…like where did I put my red pen, can I have popcorn in the living room, and by the way the cat threw up on the hallway carpet.


Even my time with M was down to a bare minimum of good morning and good night texts, though I did call a few times, HE was too busy to answer.


Wasn’t the computer age going to give us MORE free time? What the fuck, peeps?? I seriously have way less time, and suspect that you do, too. Because we can’t get away from it. And really–would you want to? Because even when we’re stuck to it for work, the internet gives us great things like tit pix and cock pix and dirty stories, and all sorts of stuff that previous generations had to work way harder to access.

But now I think I’m kind of caught up on real life stuff for a while, and trying to be moderate in how often I say “yes” to things because really, working 18 hours a day is a bit much…doing it for 10 days is crazy. I mean, when am I even going to have a second to think about being fucked? Being beaten. Man, do I need a good beating.

And then out of the blue, M sends me a text to pick a date for playtime, tells me the days he’s not available and sends me reeling. M does NOT do this. Not ever. But sheesh, I hate to tell you all how long it’s been since I’ve seen him, and even longer, like 10 months, for real, since a playtime. I need a playtime so much I can’t even think of an appropriate simile for how much.

It’s been so long that I wondered if I was boring him with the mundanity of my life, which has really sucked up all my sexy good stuff…and asked him if he was breaking up with me…(after he suggested I find a few doms I might like to play with, for him to vett)…

to which I got a resounding NO!


I don’t want to play with anyone else, just my Master. (I hate to be and sound blase about it but been there, done that, had the experience and it was fine, but I’m just wanting my very own M. Anyway, that’s why I thought that he wanted to break up, to pawn me off on someone else.)

But he doesn’t. I’m still his, and he was just thinking I needed more something. Well I do. But the something i need most is Him.

We’re both on the same page about it, and even though it wasn’t very submissive of me to throw down my “no” card…I did it. He didn’t want it for his own pleasure, but for what he perceived I might be missing. Isn’t it funny in a way that he thought I wasn’t happy with him while I was thinking the same thing in reverse? “I don’t want” isn’t a good thing for a sub to say, yet there are times when one must…and I’m glad I did.

So now the holiday is over, and we’re in quiet mode until Thanksgiving…and I’ll be back to carving out some writing time. Thanks to those who wanted to make sure I was okay, since I’ve tried hard to not go dark here…I do appreciate your caring!






..for a brief natter before I take my tired old ass to bed. I’m writing, working on that new story whenever I have free time, but this is a little Master and nilla story that I wanted to share. For those of us who don’t have perfect relationships. For some like me who wonder all the time why the HELL I’m still doing this after all these years, and with so little time together (it’s NOT his fault either, it’s me and my overprogrammed, work 7 days a week life.)


Sometimes you just wanna *smack* your dom, you know?? I was really pissed with him. And then annoyed, because no text, no call, nuthin’ for over 24 hours. We have rules about that, at least a morning and evening text from each of us to the other so we know we’re okay.

Then I think, ‘oh hell ,what if he was in an accident, or in the hospital…’ and I start to fret. Then I flip back and forth all evening at work between worry and anger. Maybe anger is too strong? It started as annoyance but with every shift back from worry it got worse. . . you know how that goes, right?

I was NOT going to call him. Let HIM make the bloody first move this time. Why am *I* the one holding this relationship together anyway? Isn’t that an “us” task?? And if he doesn’t care enough about me to make the first move then FUCK HIM!!!

And…then I call him on the way home from work because…


Because that’s what we do, submissives. We create drama in our head, and hopefully keep it there–and we submit. Nothing has changed from his end. I never, ever answer my phone. Ever. So why *would* he call after 8 years this way?

And then I am prepared to BLAST him for the non-com..I say ‘You didn’t send me a text last night OR this morning and it’s been well over 24 hours since I last heard from you and that breaks our rules.”

Now, heretofore he would have given me a sarcastic rejoinder, or snapped me back in line with a single word. This time? The jerk!

“You’re right, and I’m really sorry. I was really tired when I got home last night and fell asleep before I could text you. This morning I got off to a late start and it was busy at work, and I just forgot. You’re right, and I apologize, nilla.”

No, I didn’t dream it.

“You Bastard,” I said.

“Took the wind right outta your sails, did I?” he says in this smug tone.

Yeah, he did.  How much talent that he can fuck me up that way, while being nice? It boggles the mind. “I bet you spent all day working out your arguements, preparing to yell at me, let the Viking loose,” he says, I can can hear the laughter in his voice now.

“You Bastard,” I repeated.

He laughed, and all was well with the world.