If you’ve been reading here any amount of time you’ve likely heard me talk about “Like Day.” The evolution of the day isn’t so important just now, just the information that this is the one day that I get an Orgasm. Yup, just one lonely orgasm a week.
This past week, He didn’t have me do anything torturous the night before as he has had me do in the past. I was coming off of my cold/illness, and he was, well, feeling benevolent. Because I was out of commission most of the prior week, and playing catch-up from the weekend onward. I never got to bed Tuesday evening until 11:45 p.m. which, even for me, is ungodly late.
I should back up a bit, tell you about the Like Day rules.
- There is only one orgasm allowed no matter how weak it is.
- There is only Tuesday night to have the O…there is no “oh it’s midnight I’m good” on Monday, nor is there “oh, it’s midnight, I’m good on Tuesday.
- There is only that window of time from when I go to bed Tuesday UNTIL midnight Tuesday to have my orgasm.
Knowing these long-time rules, I stared at my clock. Oh. Fuck.
fuckity fuckity fuck
How the hell am I going to get settled in bed with my toys AND get off with (now) 13 minutes left until midnight?? I wasn’t desperate for the O, since there’d been no teasing of the pussy the night before, no edging, no pain, nada. I knew I’d only get so close, and have to stop. The odds of coming before the clock struck 12? Insurmountable. Added to that, the cough medicine I take at night makes it even harder to come. Dammit! It’s a conundrum. I decide to not go for it, to text M, and lay it out for him.
That is exactly what I did, yet in the morning, judging by his response? None of this mattered.
Not to Himself. Nu-uh.
My text was very logical. Gave him all the reasons why there was no way I could take my orgasm. It was the first thing he read in the morning, and I should have known that something would come of it. Can we just agree that sometimes I’m oblivious?
I was completely gobsmacked when I got his text while at work later that afternoon.
It said that missing my Like Day O would earn me the punishment of two half-O’s to be completed Thursday evening.
I gasped, and muttered “what????” as I reeled in my head over this. We’d been texting all day and there was not a hint of punishment. Not a whiff.
“When did THIS become a rule?” I said in my reply text.
“Just now.” He shot back.
Yet “what” that was the first thing I
screeched said when he answered the phone as I drove home later that evening.
“WHAT??” I’m not a soprano, but I’m sure my tone was far from submissive, and definitely in the upper ranges of sound.
The deep, silky smooth tone of his reply should have warned me. He’d been thinking Dom thoughts all day since he’d read my midnight text. This, oh this is a dangerous thing. And hot. Did I mention how fucking hot he is when he is in full Dom mode? It always catches me up, a surprise, not unwelcome, but still a shock when it happens. So much of the time we’re just two friends talking on the phone. But then there are those times…and Wednesday was one of them…when he is…full-on Master, and I feel exactly as if I were standing in the room, in the corner, with Him behind me.
“Your Like Day orgasm is a gift, nilla. A gift from me, to you.”
There is a pause. I know not to speak, and he is holding me in suspense. After each sentence, there is a meaningful pause.
“When you ignore my gift, that’s a problem.”
“Problems need correction. you need correction.”
He stops. There are no more words. I’m reeling in shock. I never considered, from his point of view, how it would look for me to squander his gift, throw it back in his face, essentially, though he didn’t put it that way directly.
There is like…45 seconds of silence from my end.
“Nilla…? Hellowww? M to nilla……”
My mouth opens and closes and yet no words come out. Finally I stutter out…
“Good,” He says. I hear the satisfaction in that word. He knows he’s got me right where I’m supposed to be, the place I forget to be sometimes, when the vanilla life is full upon me.
I’m not the business woman then.
I’m not the mom then.
I’m his slut, his.
I remember, in a flash of intense memory in this split second, his hand grabbing my cunt, squeezing it hard, making me whine and whimper as I lay half-under him. He is looking down at me, his tawny eyes so fierce. He growls at me, his voice low and intense and hungry.
“This. Is. MY. pussy. M I N E.”
His words, his ferocity, made me shudder with joy and love and pain and the intense thrill of being wanted that much. Such an amazing memory, recalled with his one word response to my remorse.
His sexy, whiskey-warm voice, that one word, that “good” flashed me back to our play-time memory, of being fully claimed as His. I’m right back in that headspace, sitting in my car, driving home from work.
And happy to be owned by such a devious, mean, and delightful M who cares enough to send the very best….and punish me when I forget it.
I am (as he often reminds me) a very lucky slut.
I had until Thursday morning, for this first infraction, to decide the punishment I must submit to. I can do the two half-o’s on Thursday and have my next Like Day O next week.Or I can forgo my next TWO Like Day O’s and have no further punishment.
I really hate half-o’s. (Conversely, they are uber hawt, too, right??)
But I really REALLY hate the thought of 3 weeks with NO O!…
Oh dear. It’s a dilemma. What would YOU choose?