Grumble. Grumble.

I woke up grumpy.

Don’t you hate when that happens? The second I get up the kids are all over me about some thing or other, the dogs are clamoring to go outside NOW and I have to pee.

And it is humid, wet, drizzly outside.

Later, it clears enough to make it hot and humid. O joy, my least favorite thing. This summer it seems like, just when it cools down to comfortable levels, and is not humid, BLAMMO, we’re back in the soup. Honestly, I don’t know how all you all from the south can even stand it!! I feel all droopy, non-productive. I AM productive, it just feels like I’m slogging through mud. My hair hangs down my back, and even in a ponytail it sticks to me, and makes me hot. I’d cut it but Himself would *kill* me. It’s finally at a length where he can wrap it a few times around his hand. He loves that. Eventually it will need to be cut, a good few inches at that. And he usually lets me do it in the fall (otherwise I get headaches from the weight of it) when we don’t have as much time to see one another. We’ll see what He’ll let me do.

So I’ve been mopey and hot and uncomfortable and just out of sorts today.

Then I stop and think…maybe it’s….subdrop?

Can it?

Could it?

But … our playtime was weeks ago. Two, and two days…who gets subdrop that long after the event? My bruises have fully faded. I’ve had several hours of downtime to miss him. I don’t wince when I sit.


I’ve turned back into vanilla nilla.


Quick, break out the whips ‘n chains! This slut needs help! (That’s some more hyperbole there, JZ!)

Upon really thinking about it, though, it isn’t impossible that I could be feeling the blues from our playtime being over. I rode the high of that a good 10 days. For 7 of them it hurt every damn time I sat. For the last three it was tender, but I could sit without holding back a gasp. Then I got busy, and have had a pretty full few days. So with some semi-downtime in the offing, it’s really a time to focus on how it was with Him, how it is without him. How my body yearns. How my brain is churning out little tales as I fall asleep at night. I’m turned on as I’ve ever been…but no place for it to go.

It’s weeks and weeks until our next time. It’s time enough for me to let the yearning build, and become accustomed to the feeling of neediness. When the subdrop morphs into mere wanting, rather than sadness at not having what I want, I know things have turned the corner. Tomorrow, if we follow the pattern of other subdrops, will be better. Today is “crisis” day, and things can only go up from here.

(That was not a euphemism for a hard-on, btw, despite how much I enjoy “things”  going up…hehehe!!)

Tomorrow is going to be a better day.

It will, because I’ll make it so. Even though I miss him. Even though I have no marks to touch. Even though the high has faded. So too has the low. Writing to you all about this has helped. Remembering the good time we had together pushes away the sadness.

But gods I’m so needy.

sub drop soup? mebbe -or- mebbe not…

*big sigh*

subdrop anyone?  Remember? i wrote that i’d not had subdrop? that Master is maintaining me so well, so intensely?

yes, and yet, here i am, all droopy and sad and blah-

i didn’t sleep well at all last night, and not for long enough the night before so perhaps just being tired is the root of this.

big time bummin’ here.

The sun shines, the bits of snow (in the front yard i see from the window as i write this) disappearing …*deep sigh*  and i’m just not in my happy place.

So i open my email…and gawd…HOW does He know? We have this…connection…i know when He’s texted, He knows when i’m laughing…i dunno, hard to explain here without sounding hokey, so just–suspend disbelief and roll with it, k?

We’re connected somehow.

So this is what He wrote me this morning, after i’d confessed to Him (two days ago) that even happy as i am, i am prone to moments of intense depression:

“take a deep breath and flash to me holding you tight leaving one of my “Dedicated Nilla” bite/bruise marks on your lovely shoulder – only to be licked and nurtured by me so I can bite you again. Or think of the erotic pain when I grab your ass cheek like it’s a loaf of bread and the message that goes with it – “you’re not going anywhere little girl; Master owns you and has to claim his property – again.”

“…The message here is that I believe you have enough ammo to fight off any depressive moments that try to occupy your mind. I don’t like nor will I accept the thought of you being depressed – and we’ll work on it together.”

Wow. Just ….wow. Even as i was sliding into subdrop, feeling blue and a bit melancholy, He wrote that to me…and yanno? It helped.

Just re-reading it, and dropping in the salient quotes here? Has given me back some of the “lightness of being” i feel being with Him.

i am so fucking lucky.


And we talked on the phone last night while He was driving and He set me to my corner time while He could hear me whimper with clamps on my very sore nipples (sore from His hands the day before) and butt plug in place (trying not to laugh as His funnah’s so the fucking thing wouldn’t pop out) (oooh, that made me smile just writing that)…Master kept trying to make me giggle. To laugh.  He was trying His earnest best to give me the guffawing giggles so that effing plug would pop out.

(You were too, Master, i know it, You know it…)

It’s a small tapered plug and pops out alarmingly easily when standing. (You don’t hear me asking for a bigger one however) And i got to have two orgasms last night…as long as i could hold the plug in.

Damned if He didn’t make me chuckle. Then giggle. Then a small laugh.


But, i held that effing plug  in.

Meanwhile, my left nipple was on fire. NO. really. FYYYYRRREE. Gawd it fucking hurt so good/bad/good. The right one hurt but for whatever reason the left one was double out-chie. Maybe even triple ouchie. (i love saying that aloud…out-cheeeee..and yes, it does make me wet to say it.)

So here i was, stuck between a rock and a hard place. Laugh, and disable the pain in my tit, (coz for whatever reason, when He makes me laugh crazy silly? i feel no pain) and perchance pop out the b’lug (oh, see what i typo’d there? butt plug as a conjunction. *That’s* a keeper!) and lose one of my orgasms?

Or try to stifle the hilarity that kept rising up, suffer the pain in my nipples and get my double “O”….

Oh, a conundrum of epic proportions.


You’d not believe how long it’s taken me to write this post. Usually i can bang them out (an oldie but goodie pun there–sex blog, bangin’ ’em out!) in under an hour but today? Not so much. In the last 2.5 hours i’ve gone and picked up my van (finally, all tuned up, and two new tires to boot!), swept my front sidewalk (yay!), found my run-away dog (the scoundrel!), and discovered i have to work this evening.  Now showered, and clean…wait…me? clean? whoa. okay, my body is scrubbed and sweetly scented, my hair is hanging in tousled wet curls (why won’t they stay when my hair dries?) and my mind is dirty as ever.

Lucky you.

And any potential subdrop is gone, down the street with the drek from the side-walk, out into the atmosphere, evaporated under the strong March sunshine, washed down the drain with my b.o.


Like it never even happened.

Thank You Master. For throwing out my “sub-drop soup” and finding my rainbow at the bottom….and …..

…for those TWO  Orgasms last night!