Vanilla Suckage

I love the word suckage…it evokes thoughts of cocks, and gagging on them, on the taste of His cum, on the feeling of submission I get when I kneel at his feet, sucking on Him.

This is not that kind of suckage, however.

No, this is a brief “AAARRGH” as my vanilla life has sucked so much of the wanton out of me. Sometimes, it’s really, really hard to remember that I AM a slut. That I AM a lover of pain, and powerless orgasms. That I need my well to be filled, even as he drains me. I need to be renewed as His slut, and I need it soon.

We were supposed to meet earlier this month for playtime, but being ill, then several serious snowstorms all put the end to those plans. (He actually lost power for close to a week, though we did not. He got lots of wind, we got lots of snow. It sucked for both of us…again, not the good kind of suckage!)

Now we’re hoping that we can work out the time to be together in April. Easter, and birthdays, and life will try to muck things up, but if we both stay healthy, we might, maybe, possibly be able to eke out some time together for Him to beat me. (Just re-reading that makes me smile. Seriously, are we pain sluts fucked up or what?)

As much as I need to be beaten and fucked brainless, He needs to beat, to fuck, as well. Sometimes I forget that Dominants need that release every bit as much as we submissives do. Maybe it’s because they’re all quiet and stalwart about it, and can compartmentalize it better than subs can? I dunno, that’s my personal theory, anyway.

So, I’ll be writing off my frustrations tomorrow….my day off –at LAST;  last week my “day off”  got suborned and I’ve really been feeling the need for some down time, because as much as you all have been wanting to read chapters, I’ve been dying to write them!

I’m not slipping off quietly into that vanilla night. Nope, I’m grabbing my submission and pulling it up from my toes where it’s been tamped down and making those plans and more importanly, keeping them. As He said to me this morning,

you are mostly a pain slut who hasn’t had any selective pain in quite some time.

So true.

Painfully needy for pain…how’s that for an oxymoron?

 

A Bit of a Sad

Man, I’m so frustrated I could scream! In many ways, mind you. Sexually frustrated. Needing to be beaten frustrated. Tired of injuries frustrated.

Our playtime has had to be cancelled. I left it in his lap, but I knew he would decide to hold off.  My shoulder injury has worsened, and it looks at this point like there could be surgery involved. Himself has finally healed from his own shoulder issues (6 months!)…so he knows what I’m dealing with here.

And gods above, I’m so …happy? too. He said “While I revel in the pain I cause you, I don’t want you to be hurt…no..” he pauses, starts again…”I don’t want you to be permanently harmed by my accidentally hitting you and furthering the damage to your shoulder. If  you’re hurt by me, that’s one thing. It’s fun and it sexy and it’s what I do. I get pleasure from hurting you, slut. But I’m not going to do anything that would permanently disable you. Because you still need to take care of your family, and run your business, and live your life, and if I harm your injury then I’m affecting your daily life and that’s not what I do.”

It made me feel unbelievably nurtured. Warm and fuzzy and loved. Make no mistake, this caring, thoughtful man is a fucking bastard during playtime. He hurts me terribly wonderfully. But he gets it, that I still need to do stuff. Frankly, I know he enjoys me telling him how hard it was for me to work after he’s beaten me. How it ached when I sat, or how it made me wince to reach for something…he eats that shit up! The pain he’s caused, and its lingering after-effects are a turn-on for him. And, okay, for me as well. I freely admit I’m horny for weeks after a good play session.

But this kind of pain isn’t kink-inspired. It’s just life, and age, and work and who knows what happened that kicked it back up a notch or twelve. I’m really hoping to not have this surgery, but I won’t know any details for a few weeks at least. It’s the waiting and the not knowing that are the hardest part, really.

Sigh.

Sometimes? Life sucks even more that this slut can.

 

Cycles

This unkinky feeling…I’ve had it before, as you know if you’ve read here any length of time. I would say that many of my kinky friends have gone through this too. Some are out of kink permanently, and some are just in stasis.

Whether it’s life events keeping us in vanilla mode, or a partner’s issues, or our own, it seems inevitable that one cannot sustain the full-bore D/s life as depicted in porn. No one is kinky all the time…perhaps in thought, but in deed? Not so much. Perhaps if one were independently wealthy (hmmm, and where have we heard of that before? Here? In other writing? Yeah, it seems that only the idle rich could have time for such self-indulgence!) one could maintain that lifestyle, but the rest of us? We have to put food on the table, and pay bills, and insurance, and mortgages or rent. We’re all in some mode of “life” and sometimes that simply precludes kink.

Which is not to say that some of our mundane life could be kinky. Himself suggested a few weeks ago when I was being particularly sassy and un-sub-like, that perhaps i’d like to wear a butt plug up my ass for one of my jobs. Or nipple clamps. And then he laughed, that evil chuckle, and I got wet…and that was the beginning, and end, of that thought.

Kink is great in ideas. Doms are always on the prowl (one imagines!) for perverting even those simple day to day things into something pervy. And it’s great if it manifests. And also inconvenient and sexy and annoying and wonderful…all of that. But it takes effort. He’s older, I’m older, we’re both extremely busy, and there simply isn’t time.

Or we don’t/can’t/won’t make time. That’s both of us. This doesn’t fall solely on his shoulders, I bear a responsibility to our kink as well. What we need is face time, and sometimes I forget that during this absolutely wonderful, crazy, busy, exciting time of the year, is that time is more precious than platinum. We don’t have a lot of it freely hanging around. Sometimes I find myself filled with wonder that my kids have time to just sit and be, because I’m busy all the damn time! And I look at all I do, and things I can delegate, I do. But is everything I do totally necessary? Does it pass the 1 year test (will it be important a year from now?)? And yes, for much of it. I loathe piles of laundry hanging around. So that needs doing. Can I live without doing something? For a while. But I’m way more OCD about stuff like that (in my own home, I’m not judging anyone else here!).

What I’m bumbling along saying is that I have a hard time letting go of the “to do’s” and prioritizing what is a “must do” from that pile of stuff on my list. And if D/s time is at the bottom of that list? It keeps taking a back seat to all the others.

Part of that comes on to him here. Whenever I manage to carve out free time? He doesn’t have it. Can’t/won’t shift things. And then I fill up that space, and the next time there’s free space, I don’t even ask.

So while I’m silent screaming over here about kinklessness, I’m also caught in my own triangle of causing it!

And I don’t have a solution except…wait for January. And I’m still on doctor restrictions through the end of December so that plays a role. *huge sigh* See what keeps chasing around in my head? It’s hard to stay sane when I can’t create workable solutions to problems that i’m at least 50% responsible for!

And you may have noticed that I don’t wait very well, either.

*grin*

Impatient slut? Yeah. If the stiletto fits …

Unkinked

It’s been hard, these last few months not seeing Him at all. I am unkinked, adrift, lost. Nature abhors a vacuum, so when there is an empty slot of time in my life, it is filled nearly immediately. My work has grown exponentially to the time we don’t spend together. It leaves me truly vanilla.

I’m not depressed, exactly.

I think I’m too busy to feel.

To feel anythings.

The good stuff. The bad stuff. The feelings of loss and aloneness that not having him more intimately entwined in my life. He’s not gone. We’re still a couple.

And yet, not.

I wrote to him last night. Because I let a little of the hurt (the need for hurt?) seep into my awareness.

The less we communicate, the less we see each other, the less connection i feel…and i fill up those empty places with work. I need you. It’s as simple as that. Or i will just fade away.

 

I’m beyond vanilla..im almost invisible and there’s no one to hear my screaming.

He wrote back within two minutes.

                         I hear it.

It relieved me. That he got it. That he didn’t laugh it off, or joke it away, that he could *feel* my deep sense of loss. This…this nasty, dirty, terrible thing we do–it’s part of me. It’s a name I can put to those craven desires that I didn’t understand for so terribly long. I know I’m kind of late to the party here, just discovering kink in the last year of my 40’s, but these last 9 years have shown me parts of myself, and taught me to love them as part of my whole being. I am what I am. I can’t be anything else. There’s a name and a need and it can be stuffed away…but it leaves me feeling less than whole, and a whole lot less.

He got it.

And that means more to me than all the “there, there’s” in the world.

Lifted

I’ve had an amazingly difficult, emotional week. I had a physical thing that has temporarily marred me physically, and it blindsided me.

I’m vain, you see.

Yeah, I’m overweight, the short, round sub. But I’m still okay with how I look, until this past week.

I told Him he should uncollar me. That I couldn’t see him for a year until I heal.

Yeah.

First world, very vanity driven issues, nilla?

sigh.

Sometimes we just can’t get out of own way, can we?

He sent me a text within MINUTES of my sending.

Get off your fucking pity party train.

*blink*

He doesn’t care. *I* care enough for two of us, but to him? It’s a non-issue.

“Make a play date for late October, early November.”

I haven’t done that yet. I’m still feeling pretty sensitive, and though I’ve stopped the pity party tears, I am still not…not sure? I dunno. I want to be perfect for him, you know?

He just wants to beat me. The only thing *He* cares about is the color my ass will be when He’s done playing with me.

He’s pretty fucking awesome. And in that no-nonsense way of his, He has managed to quickly snap me out of the doldrums of what could have been a very serious fall into depression.

I was on the very edge of tetering into that black hole. He not only pulled me back, he threw a lasso around my neck and lifted me back. So far back that I’m starting to think about ….

…playtime.

You know…at the end of October.

Or early November.

😀

 

Hectic

Our meeting for this upcoming weekend had to be postponed….it is another chaotic week in Casa nilla. Family life and a bunch of sundry things are keeping me moving 14 hours a day.  At this point, going to work in the evening is a small oasis in my day. I’m sad about missing our playtime…I really could use a good beating.

I have a whole post written in my head but no time to write it. I have stories that are begging to be told, but again, time is slipping away too quickly filled with other responsibilities. After next week the immediate hectic is over, and I’ll have time once more to sit and spin my tales.

Master and I will get playtime in late June or early July–and it will be what it will be. I can’t change the fact that we’re both busy, acceptance is the only way. Regret, oh yes. We both need some release. We’ll get some face time this weekend, which helps allay the sadness, which, if I had time to spare thinking about it– I’d be wallowing in. I guess it’s a good thing I’m busy then, right? But if I wasn’t so busy I’d have time to BE with Master and then I wouldn’t be sad in the first place…

Whatever. It is what it is. Suck it up buttercup.

See? I can be my own bolster-er, too.

😀

So, toodles for now, peeps. Hoping that this weekend will give me a much needed recharge with the Master, that we’ll drink tea together and He’ll make me giggle, and we’ll kiss and I’ll be back in the submissive zone.

But for now, tis time for me to charge forth into the morning!