Ho Ho Ho! Random nilla-ness

I’ve been meaning to post this for more than a week…but things kept cropping up (get it, cropping? LOL I crack myself up sometimes!) and I never got around to it. And now here it is, Christmas Day for those of you who celebrate. I do, despite my pagan philosophy…I was raised in Christianity, and still find beauty in the old hymns, tho I may not agree with the content. 🙂 With kiddo’s in the house, it’s pretty hard to not go the traditional route…someday I’ll go back to a more earth-centered yule, but I am also very much enjoying the now.

Merry Christmas. Blessed holiday season. Joyous Noelle. Blessed Yule.  And good day to all the rest who celebrate nothing. Every day  is a celebration, even the hard ones. Someone at work the other day admonished a younger staff member to “not get old, it stinks” and I hollered out “Well, it SURE beats the alternative!” Which made everyone, even the speaker, say…oh. Right. So many of us have lost loved ones much to early, and really? It pisses me off when people say “oh, don’t get older” or “getting old sucks”. It sure isn’t easy, our bodies don’t always do what we think they should…coz in our heads? We’re still 20. But you will NEVER hear me say that getting older sucks…


….I’m just glad that you are here and reading my words, and the Mayan calendar wasn’t wrong, just misinterpreted. (or else by now we’ve all become protoplasm, and no one is reading. 🙂  <I know now that we’re still here…I just like the line about being protoplasm enough to keep it in my post-edit copy!!)

We’ve come into that darkest part of the year here in the northern hemisphere, where many of us rise and go to work in the dark, and come home the same way. When the tree’s are barren and bleak, the winds rustle up under pant legs and my skirt hem, and make us shiver and long for the heat of summer. All part of the wheel…but …it’s still kind of …well, I was going to say depressing, but that’s not the word…sere. Yes. Bland and boring. The colorful birds are rare, the air is quiet, the smell is of that dry and dusty scent that bespeaks “cold”.

Yet the “wheel” has turned, and even now we are slowly wending our way back towards the light. Back again, adding the (very, very, very) slight amounts of daylight to our days. We can’t see them, yet. The slivers are too thin. But by late January, the slivers will have added up, and if you look, you will notice that it isn’t *quite* as dark as you drive home at dusk.


I was thinking the other day about the Tsunami (Christmas, 2004)that happened…8 years ago in Thailand and other places…

I remember being in my car with my wife and family when I heard of the earthquake…the magnitude was immense and I remember saying “oh gods….there’ll be a tsnumi…why don’t they have tsnuami warnings up yet?” and an hour later hearing of the devastation.

Later, scientists said the earthquake was one of the strongest to rock earth, and had infact, tilted us on our axis, changing it. Just a wee bit.

But no one talks about that anymore. And suddenly our winters are milder (yes, I know, global warming and all is definitely a factor…but what if…?)….so what if? What if that little bit “off” has played a roll in our changing climate? Because it is decidedly true that the northeast has had several warm winters in a row, quite a phenomenon. Anyway, I just wonder.


Master has been a bit…wicked…for lack of a better word, for the last week or so. Sometimes He is quite lenient with me, so when He is in “Master-mode”…it always makes me take a mental step back. Kind of like when you turn wrong and your GPS lady says “recalculating”.

I was reading comments on aisha’s blog regarding her sanding experience which was wicked hot and funny too…and then several commentors said “don’t tell your Sir”, regarding the fact that she didn’t like something….

It’s a hard lesson to learn when you’re talking to your dominant isn’t it? I’ve *finally* almost broken myself away from just blurting out “Oh i *HATE* when blah-blah-blah”…because He will latch onto that like a hungry dog holds a bone!

Although, come to think of it, the other day when we were talking and He said something that I knew I would not like, I was just quiet…and He laughed and spoke of the fact that I was quieter than normal.

And I know he was jotting it down in his meantal “Dom” journal. Yes. That says mean-tal instead of mental. That was not an error. 🙂

More randomness…

……………am I the only one…

sky……………who sees a cloud cock?

I took this picture on the way to work a while ago (at a stoplight, just taking random sky pictures). When I got home later that night I looked at all my pics and saw the penis.

Then again..maybe it’s just me and my admittedly filthy mind..?!


On another random note, Master and nilla have a playdate scheduled (at last…!)!!!!! It’s been a long while since our last one, though not as long as for some of you, i know…and with a bit of luck, we’ll squeeze it in before the end of the year. I’m not saying exactly when, since the snow Goddess loves to fuck with me …and she’s not beyond sending a ginormous snowstorm on THE day…it’s has happened several times in the past.

The only bad part is that I have to work at my other job for part of the day…still, a short playdate is better than NO play date…that’s what I’m telling myself. I’ve actually  picked up a lot of extra hours for this job during the holidays…I’m working every day the four days before Christmas, including some time on Christmas eve day.  I’m glad of the work, to be sure. But it leaves nilla a tired girl. On the plus side? My wife has vacation that week, and it gives me a break from all the craziness that her being home engenders. Does that make me bad? Having my vanilla spouse at home for long periods of time is okay at first…but really? It gets to be really frustrating too.

It definitely curtails my time reading porn.

It definitely curtails my time writing porn.

So…yeah. Frustrating. I might as well be at work, rather than home getting pent up. And there is that Master visit to look forward to. 🙂


I’ve had a few good doses of Master time…some few stolen moments, and this past Saturday, over an hour together. And yes… we were naughty in Starbucks again. 🙂

Outside, He pinched me good. Gosh, I forgot how much pain He gives me, and so fucking easily. He just reaches out and *wham*! I’m “ouch”-ing, and moaning, and wrigging away. He pins me to the car with his body, then slides his fingers up and tickles me at the most unexpected moments, and makes me laugh like a lunatic.

I love that Man.

Earlier in the week, feeling out of sorts with the world,  I had texted Him that I needed medication.

And then quickly followed that up with a text reminding Him that He supplies the drug I need. (and He did deliver me a lovely little dose of it Saturday night)

For me…it’s true, and for you other subs out there, isn’t it?

Aren’t we  addicts, of a sort? We need our pain fix, Dammit! We need to be used, ravaged, fucked, bitten, slapped, caned, hairbrushed, ass-fucked, or what-the-fuck-ever our personal kink is. We NEED it. We CRAVE it. We really must have it to be whole, functioning people.

Having had a taste of it, there is no going back, at least for me. I cannot imagine how difficult it would be to totally snuff “nilla” and become…regular.

Boring? To be sure, oh yes.

Empty? Yes. Double yes, even.

Maybe saying that, “snuffing nilla” was a deliberate word choice by my quiet mind. Reminding me that I wasn’t fully alive back when all was just vanilla, when I was a good girl, who did all the things she had to, and never acted on any of those wildly inappropriate fantasies.

I’ve changed a lot in the past three and a half, four years. The reading, the eye-opening awareness of kaya’s blog…the fact that after I read about a particularly brutal beating and fucking that there was an actual puddle in the seat I’d been sitting on…shocked me.

Shocked me into an awareness that …in some way…I was like her.  That the idea of being beaten, and used for a fuckhole? Did something warm and wet and wonderful to me. So no, there is no turning my back on who I really am. I’m a slut. I like sex. I like being hit. I like taking pain, and I get off on it.

Until we’re together, behind closed doors again, He’ll feed me warm tidbits of what I need, a clamp here, a clothespin on my belly there.  Just a wee dose of what I need. But it will hold me…until He holds me, and gives me the full infusion of what I need most….Him, and the art of His pain.

Shit Day

Some days are like this, I know. The kind of day that makes you want to draw on the walls with jello, and gurgle happily. La La La….

It was a wicked fuck of a day and …wait a moment here….. yanno… I’ve used that phrase before and suddenly…it seems wrong, doesn’t it? I mean, in *our* world, a wicked fuck is a good thing. Well, that leaves me with no good expression to describe my fu-…my rotten day. That sucks.

O wait.

I do that too.

Well, fu… *sigh*… when did my D/s start to ruin my wicked bad expressions, anyway? Need I use vanilla terms to describe my bad days???

“oh yes, nilla had such a miserable day.”

Oh, right. Like that says enough.


Shit Day is the best I can come up with.

And that made me think about anal sex.


Doesn’t everyone think about anal sex? You don’t? Really?

I’ll bet deep down you do. 🙂

Anyway. I was trying to decide if I like it or don’t. There are parts I don’t, to be sure. And HE knows them and uses them on me just to get a rise out of me. But I have wicked intense orgasms from anal sex so there you go. It’s a trade-off.

Now that I’ve diverted down this hopelessly convoluted path to here, I can tell you that I hadn’t meant to go there. Like…just not. Sometime I’ll sit down and we can have a lovely natter about butt fucking. But today is not that day, and tomorrow isn’t looking hopeful either.

What I really wanted to talk about was this task I have looming ahead of me, which is why I’m blogging and not doing it. I’ve not had an O since…..um….shit. Like Day. Tuesday, last. I lost an O for my snit, and another just because. And another because I was tired. And another because He wanted to get me all sexed up and have nowhere to go. And then there was today (Monday)…

And I got His text to start clit flicking at 11 (that’s 11 flicks at 11).  And later a text saying pussy grabs at 3 (those pussy grabs turn me on like wildfire.)

But I’ve had this shit day, you see. Where things came up and things happened and I had two jobs today and not one, and my kids were aliens and and and…it’s going on 10 pm.

There hasn’t been one fucking flick.

No pussy grabs.


I told Him. Sent Him a late-day text letting Him know there’d been a substantial delay. On my way home from work, while running errands (the fun in this day never ends)…I called Him. Told Him again that nothing had been done.

“Good thing you won’t get an O then…you’ll be far too busy catching up on those flicks” He says nonchalantly.


It’s another orgasm-free day. Sad but true. And all part of the Shit Day. All sexed up and no place to put it.

Except, of course, in His hands, where He can enjoy every moment of my turned on squirming.


“This is proof. I have zero doubt. You are a full-on Sadist.”

I write this to Him via text. I wonder what He will say. Will He smack me down for my temerity? He doesn’t unduly torment me in my day-to-day life, after all. He understands the mommy demands, the wifey demands, the living demands on my time and energy and ability to serve. He doesn’t want a wench to grovel and moan piteously unless He is there to hear it, He’s told me that in the past. So I wait, almost a bit nervously. After all, I’ve not been in top-10 communicating form with Him these last two weeks…and there was that wee snark on Saturday….and I check..and YES!

A text from Master. Nervously I open it. And giggle. Remember I told you He is a man of few words? Yeah. This sums Him up nicely. He wrote:

“Thank you.”

Nuthin’ Much…

So…it is done.

4.5 months of renovations.

Three rooms.

My work is DONE! *happy dancing*

Yes, if you just pictured my red hair flying around, my boobs bouncing and my toes tapping…pretty fucking accurate picture! I’ve mudded walls. Sanded. Primed. Stripped wallpaper. Painted woodwork. Painted walls. Special treated walls. Organized. Designed a closet system. Organized. Scrubbed, cut, built, nailed, hung….you name it, I’ve done it.

I live in a very big, very old house, just a dozen years or so shy of its 200th year. There are always projects to be done. Always. And this year we did our three most popular “public” rooms (as opposed to bedrooms). And Friday I finished the last one for this year.

Now I have time on my hands. A very dirty house, since I did the last room in a mammoth push, in 9 days. Yes. Nine. I worked 7-8 hours on the renovation, then 3 hours at work, every weekday. Crazy. But it’s done. And it is glorious, this final room. Now I have time to read blogs. To write again. My mind isn’t swirling with timetables. Thanksgiving is still 10, 11 days away, and I have time to manage it without panicking.

Life, ah, it is good. (even with all that crud under the bathroom sink on the floor. Why am I the only one who sees this ??)

So…here it is, Saturday very late. And I can’t get ahold of my Master for my orgasm. I was supposed to play a Dom version of spin the bottle and maybe get an O.

And I think He fell asleep early.

And I can’t just *take* the O…dammit.


So I was talking to a friend on facebook…and telling her about my day today in Maine (it was a glorious Saturday in Maine!) and all the craft fairs my MIL and I went to…and the very last place was an alpaca farm.

I am a yarn-a-holic…and they had some gorgeous gorgeous yarns…and yes, I came home with some. Not tons…it is pricey stuff….but neat to see it outside on the hoof, so to speak, then come inside and fondle the goods. Alpaca wool is super soft, and has no lanolin, which some people are allergic to, I guess. And as I was talking to her about this wonder of yarn, she called me Obi-yarn. Which cracked me the fuck up.


I like it. 🙂

And now I’m wishing I’d brought it up to my room, since it is obvious an orgasm isn’t in my future tonight. *frownyface*

I’ll bet this will all just make Master smile, knowing He got me all twisted up and needy. Kinda like that alpaca yarn. (in the next circle of my life, when my kids are older, I want to learn to spin. Yes, on a spinning wheel, not in an exercise class!)

During my 3 hour drive home, I got a few ideas for stories. And that always makes me happy. Something that I’ll have time to work on now that all my other big things are done. And on that drive, got to see a glorious Autumn sunset…snapped a few pix with my phone….note that all the deciduous trees are leafless…thanks to Hurricane Sandy…(if only she’d blown mine out of my yard! Alas she did not..instead, I got some of my neighbors!)


the picture doesn’t show the glorious hues of pink, the golden glow underneath, the wisps of clouds…but it was lovely.

And with that, I’m going to stfu, and go to bed. ‘night peeps…catch ya Monday!


Happy Nekkid Dancing


Hey, you know how I was talkin’ the other day about my stats? And how I had almost every continent? But I didn’t have Greenland, Iceland, or Antarctica? (and YES! I know Greenland and Iceland are not continents!!!)

Read my weekly stats yesterday…guess who has a reader in GREENLAND!!! Woot. It’s silly to be so thrilled, isn’t it? But I’ll tell you a small tiny nilla secret.

I love maps.

LOVE maps. One of the best things of my weekend job is getting to look at a map to route drivers….omg. I so LOVE that. And so watching the map of the Earth come “alive” with all the colors, showing me where you all have popped in from excites me.

Though honestly? Not as much as today being Today excites me!

Today is Play Day for Master and nilla. As you read this we’re off doing our separate day thing. I’m at work and He’s….also likely working, actually. But by day’s end, we’ll meet up, and have dinner together, and …then there will be fire works. Big ones. 🙂

Someone asked me in comments the other day about the header. I admit I am woefully behind in comments…typing is a huge chore for me just now as I attempted to remove a slice of finger this week while cutting something. The wound is not ginormous, but it has to be well covered…and bulky bandages hit multiple keys simultaneously.

This is very frustrating to me…I type fast, normally. Having to go back and fix, fix, fix all the fucking typo’s is annoying as shit. (heh. I typo’d ‘hit’ there… Freudian slip, anyone?)

So, back to the header question…yes, the header is in order of curiosity. If I could, I’d move those last few floggers right off the page. Wordwitch has offered me advice on how to “pop” the strings (which are rubber, people. Rucking rubber!) (that was supposed to say “fucking”…see what I mean?) But no. I just know He’ll figure it out all by Himself.

And then there is the hairbrush, for follow-up.

And …yanno..there was that little nipple thing this week. He’s promising to write something on my ass…using the blows from the brush to form the letters.

I really hope it’s a small word.

4 Words

We were texting Sunday…just teasing dribs and drabs. I was in full-vanilla mode, busy as a one-armed paper hanger.

But He managed to stop me dead in my tracks, pulled me right out of that “v.m. mode” and into His world…(or rather, my place in His world). We’d been texting back and forth all morning.  He’d been very Dommish today. (You subs will understand that remark!) There are many days when we’re kinda vanilla-esque (though He will tell you…He is always in Dom mode…He just varies the extent that He uses at any given time with/to/on me…).

See, I’d sent a semi-flippant response to a text He’d sent me.  I was feeling a bit happy with myself over that remark. It was funny. It was smart-assy without being rude. It coasted right on the edge where I like to play. My remark was about wanting this particular thing that He’d mentioned…but definitely not in the way HE had said I would get it.

I was right in the middle of doing something, and I walked past my phone and figured ‘what the hell, I’ll see if the Master Man has written back to my smart-ass comment. Sure enough, He had. I opened it, read it. My focus narrowed to the four words on the screen in my hand. All else faded away.

The world tilted.

My pussy clenched, then grew wet. Not moist, not tingly.


not your choice anymore

There simply isn’t a better way to know that I’m owned.


He’s a FUCKING Bastard….

Sorry to interrupt your reading of “Felicitations” dear pervie friends–i know i have left you hanging in a most terrible fashion. Not that you don’t expect that of me anyway….however, this time it is not. my. fault.

okay Master, i’m getting to it, really!

I need to back up a few days. To HNT day, actually. You’ll remember that there was a small pic of me at the end, what Master calls a “teaser pic” that doesn’t show all that much ‘stuff’?

seriously Master, you’re SO impatient. i can see you, sitting there at ‘our’ table, reading this ‘shit’ and saying to yourself, c’mon nilla get with it. Fix IT!

You’ll have to forgive these little asides. For as you are sitting and reading this with your morning coffee/tea/cocoa…Master and i are at Starbucks, and He is reading this.

Yes, right now.


I’ve been “tasked” to this particular post, you see. Which is why “Felicitations” has been bumped to tomorrow.  And i wonder if you’re reading faster knowing those two things…that He’s tasked me, and with that title up above there…

Coz, yanno? He really is a marshmallow Mean Fucking Bastard. *giggle*

i’m trying to be serious about this Master, really i am. i see you looking up at me with those stunning, leonine eyes of Your’s, ready to cut me to ribbons with that piercing gaze…keep reading, trust me, it gets better….

So, we, Master and i, were talking during FNF. He was verrrrry tired. About as tired as i’ve ever heard His voice. We talked for a long time, but no playing. It was just…sweet talk

i didn’t say that Master…see? Those are strike-throughs up there.  Everyone who reads here  knows…and understands, that i misspoke…just a wee bit…up there…

right everyone?

note to self….(no giggling out loud)

So we were talking and He was all Dommy and mean, you know how Doms are, right? (grin)  We were talking about spanking and tit torture, and assfucking, and hugging all sorts of other torturous things.

And we spoke a bit about the blog. This blog, not the Dark Fantasies one. And i remembered right then,  that i’d neglected to tell Him my status count for this weeks HNT. So i did that, and then mentioned that i’d said He was sweet.

You know, in the post.

This post…go ahead, i’ll wait. It’s right there at the beginning. And i kinda said it quickly, and kept right on going …and He drew me up short.

“Whoa…whoa…what? What did you just say?” He says in this incredulous voice. And the words “uh. oh” start floating in my head.

And i’ll confess here and now that i stalled told him hesitantly. Coz…yanno. I *know* that tone. Not quite the same tone He used Thursday night when we were on the phone and He was yelling at His GPS lady (He called her a presumptuous cunt!!!) for interrupting Him while He was talking. (Which, btw, made me hysterical!)

But i did, eventually, mutter “I said you were sweet” in this tiny voice. Which He made me repeat, only to holler say calmly “you did what?!”

You did holler, too, Master, but i struck that part out, coz, yanno, I didn’t want people to think you were a total Asshole. Then again…hmmm…that is the point of this isn’t it?    Wait …is this  like one of those stupid math problems? You know the kind, Master…. A train leaves Boston at 9:32 headed for Cleveland, while another train leaves Chicago 4 minutes later. At what point do they cross the equator. It is, isn’t it….??…anyway, i digress…

Now, you all know that Master is a right tough Sadist. You’ve seen the pics of His handiwork a few weeks ago…so you all know He’s rather firm handed with me.

And oh, how i love that!

Love that He takes charge, love that He hurts me so good. But the “sweet” comment? Well,  it’s ruined His “street cred”…who’s gonna believe that a “sweet” guy is a Fucking Bastard?

Who would believe that someone who poured a bunch of sweet on His slut would also do this:

Am i right?

Surely, only the deepest, darkest kind of Sadist would inflict this kind of pleasure hurt on His submissive slut, right?

see Master? did You have *any* doubt that i’d get around to the ‘good part’….eventually?

You know i see You, sitting there, looking up at me and giving me the “Hairy Eyeball” look…the one that makes me giggle nervously…and makes me all squishy and wet …

*big smile*

Must be because i’ve done “IT”…fixed it all up nice and tidy, so that everyone now knows the truth about You…yes? Big Bad Ass Dominant Master of nilla (the slut..wait, i think that’s redundant…nilla is synonymous with ‘slut’…)

Coz really, pervie friends, He is the sweetest meanest most ornery Man you’d ever chance to run across …

what’s that Master? i said it again?

i did not.

it’s a strike out, see? And You know, Master that whatever is struck out is just totally disregarded by my readers. Oh, yes, they grok it.


Whoops, sorry there Master…that one just kind of slipped out.

Yes, You know i am taking this assignment totally seriously.

Oh, BTW Master? There’s a teeny little heart stuck on Your back. From when i hugged You when i got here.  🙂




(He’s not the only one who’s “bad” !)