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The Dom in the Garage

15 Jan

i missed youall yesterday, although it was kind of relaxing not to roll out of bed and start pounding out my aisha blog post.  But it seemed weird not to get comments during the day.  i felt strangely disconnected.

Anyhow.  i worked late last night, and Sir got home before me, which is unusual.  Clearly, i don’t want that to happen too often, because when i got here, He was out in the garage doing some woodwork.  He had his radio out there, tuned in to the basketball game, and was busily ~ busily doing something…

“Whatcha doing, Honey?” i say.

He looks up, the picture of a mad scientist, if you substitute a wood-burning set for the test tubes.

“Working on the pussy paddle,” He says.


O, yeah.

He’s had this scheme for a while, and since He was home alone last night, He thought He’d “go ahead and get started.”

Here’s a picture:


It’s about 24 inches long, and made from a piece of the same red oak as our regular paddle, so it will be pretty when He gets through with it.  The end is designed with the idea that He’ll be stroking some intimate body parts at times. Here’s a close up:


Yes, it looks like a nipple on the end.  He says if it doesn’t work right, it’s my fault {there’s a shock ~ giggling…  and i guess i’ll pay with my ass, right?}

Anyhow, He says He asked me what shape it should be and i just looked baffled and didn’t give Him any good ideas, so now i just have to accept whatever He comes up with.

{Laughing… }  Ok.  i’m pretty sure i didn’t have any good ideas for the shape, and i’m pretty sure i would have had to accept whatever He came up with in any case, so i guess that works out.  

The holes in it are, of course, there to give it more pain-power.  Because you know, just getting whacked between the legs with a piece of oak would probably not be painful enough all by itself.  Right?  

So i’m off to exercise and get ready for work ~ must get home earlier tonight…



27 Dec

i spent a lazy day yesterday, relaxing and unwinding from the frenzied pre-Xmas week.  i enjoy that week a lot, and never plan far enough ahead to keep it from being a bit frenzied, and am perfectly ok with that too.  As a recovering perfectionist, i know that the more time i have to do something, the more i will expand what there is to do, and how well it needs to be done.

We had a lovely Christmas, and our families who were able to come over did too, at least they seemed to.  Presents were well-received, food was eaten, laughter and good times were had by all.  

So yesterday, when my one obligation gets cancelled and i realize that i can avoid going out into the nasty weather and spend the day tucked in at home, i jump at the opportunity.   i have approximately 13 new projects to start, or new pieces of things to add onto old ones, and my house needs the last touches of tidying, and i need to answer blog comments, and i need to polish the silver before i put it away, and ~ and ~ and i don’t do any of those things.

i write two blog posts ~ Naomi and a vanilla one.

i take a nap and have an orgasm ~ um, not in that order.

My sister comes by and we hang out for a while.

i piddle around on the computer.  Think about doing things.

And when Sir comes home, i feel guilty.  He has been at work all day.  He hasn’t had the luxury of staying home and doing nothing.  There is so much i could have done, and i haven’t done any of it.

i say as much to Him, apologetically.  Tell Him i feel bad about it.  

He looks surprised.  “Lots of people are off work today,” He says.

“Yeah, i know,” and i feel better for a second, “But ~ i could have done a lot of stuff around here,” i add, feeling bad again.

He looks around, shrugs.  “We’ve been running since last Friday.”  He reminds me of all the things we’ve done.  “You needed some time,” He says.  “I don’t want you to feel guilty about taking some time today.”

So i’m working on that.  Not feeling guilty.

And i was thinking about it when i read Monkey’s post today.  You can read it here.  

{Forgive me, Monkey, if i’ve gotten this wrong.}

She’s talking about rules, and her feeling that she didn’t have any, but then she recognizes that she does, they are just not being presented the way she thought they would be.  She says:

This is the way it goes in my imagination, in much that I read,and in many other relationships  (including my relationship with Big Bad) revolving around D/s…

Dom/Domme holds out the (behavior/idea/incipient rule/shiny thing), and says/infers “Do this”.  The will is being pushed toward the sub, who accepts it.

David offers me the (behavior/idea/incipient rule/shiny thing), puts it within my reach, and then leaves it up to me to draw it in.

Subtle but distinct differences. That’s the best illustration I can draw.

Just because something was not presented formally, doesn’t make it any less of a rule…

So when Sir says, “I don’t want you to feel guilty about…” whatever ~ that’s a very different order than “You will kneel when I enter the room.”  In fact, it would be easy for me to completely miss the significance of His words.  i could think He just means He’s not mad at me, or disappointed in me {which is also true.}  

It’s up to me to remember that when Sir says, “I want” or “I don’t want,” He IS telling me what to do.  It’s up to me to hear that.

And maybe “rule” isn’t the right word ~ it’s an order, a command.  If i go back and tell Him,  “You know, you said you didn’t want me to feel guilty about *whatever,* but i still do,” He’ll be surprised and not pleased.   He’ll actually make me talk about it til i figure out why i can’t do what He told me to do, til i figure out how to do it.

It would be easier to have a rule that says i have to do “x” chores every day than it is to let go of feeling guilty about my lazy day.  It’s much harder to recognize that the voice in my head beating me up about it is not His voice, it’s mine, and i need to help myself silence that voice.  

It helps to remember i need to do it because He says so.


17 Dec

His whiskers scrape across my nipple,

back and forth.

He watches my nipple turning red,

watches thoughtfully,

with interest.

He sucks the nipple,

pulling it gently into His warm, wet mouth

soothing the pain

then, sharp as tiny knives,

whiskers scrape again.


i say,

“Ow, oooh, ow, that hurts…”

and He smiles.

“Mean,” i say, giggling,

“That’s just mean.”

“Mean?” He says, quizzical.

“You think that’s mean?

And when i nod, still smiling, 

“Yes, Sir, a little mean,”

He smiles too,

“You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Between the Dashes ~ Sir Goes Shopping {O, My!}

19 Nov

Saturday afternoon, Sir and i went our separate ways.  He headed out to do errands.  i napped, and read some blogs, and exercised, and wrote a blog post, and was cleaning up the kitchen when He came home.

i notice that He has a bunch of “stuff” in His hands.  Something long ~ several long things ~ maybe four feet long.

“Here,” He says, “Let me set this stuff down,” and He disappears into the study.  Moments later, He’s back, and wraps His arms around me.

After a long hug, and an “mmmmm,” or two from me, i say, “How was your day?”

“GREAT!” He says, letting go of me.  “Wait til you see what I got!  Did you know they sell bamboo at Lowe’s?”

i’m laughing, “No, Sir, actually, no, i didn’t.”

“Well, they do, look at this!”  And He leads me into the study.

There they are.  Pieces of bamboo.  Um, poles.  Bamboo poles.  One really thick one and three skinny ones.  Trying to be coy, i say, “Um, what’s that for?”

He says, “What’s that for?!  For you, of course.  You know, leaving welts, it’s not about how hard you hit, it’s how fast the implement’s moving, and these can move really fast.”  He shakes His head, “What’s it for?  It’s for you!  i got it for you.”

What can a girl say but, “Thank you, Sir”?  So i say it, nicely, i hope.  And He laughs.

Then He says, “And ~ wait til you see this!  Remember that paddle I used up at COPE?”  i nod, o, yes, i remember that paddle.  “Well look at this,” He says.

i put the piece of wood on the arms of Sir’s chair, and that’s a ruler – the orange thing, so you can tell just how big it is! That’s the smooth side, btw.

Yes, it’s a piece of wood.  NOT just any piece of wood.  It’s red oak.  One of the hardest types of wood you can buy that’s native to the Unites States, He says.  {Don’t ask me how He knows this stuff.}

He explains that it’s going to make a WONDERFUL paddle.  All He’s got to do is cut it down here {and He demonstrates} so He can grip it easily.  And put a hole in it so He can put a piece of braided rope or something through the hole so He can put that over His wrist and make sure He has a firm grip on it.  While He paddles me. 

It just needs to be sanded real good, so it’s smooth.  “Here,” He says, handing it to me.  “Feel it.  Which side do you want used on you?  Which side do you think is the business end?”

Cautiously, because i generally anticipate walking into some kind of trap here, i feel both sides with my fingertips.  One side seems rougher, grainier than the other.  So not that one.  Hesitantly, i flip it over and say, “This side?”

He says, “That side?  That’s the side you want against your skin?”

“Um, yes, i think so…” i say.  “It feels smoother than the other one. Isn’t it?

“Well, yes, it is!” He says approvingly.  Then, “Too bad, the other side is the business side.  The smooth side is where you put any fancy decorations you might want.”

“O,” i say.  “i see.”  i knew there was not really a choice here.

“Have you ever sanded anything?” He asks.

“No, no, Sir, i haven’t,” i say, totally prepared to admire His sanding expertise.

“O, good,” He says, “This will be a good learning experience for you.”  i guess my face shows my disbelief ~ i’m thinking WHAT?  You want ME to sand it?  But i bet my face just said, “Um, excuse me?”

Anyhow, He says, “Yes, you, it’ll be great.  Really make the whole experience more personal, more enjoyable.  You have to do it slowly, rubbing the sanding paper over it like this,” and He demonstrates.  “Don’t worry, I’ll show you how to do it.”

And what’s a girl to say but, “Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir.”  So i say it, and i’m laughing.

Later, i massage Sir’s shoulder for a while, He’s having some pain.  The massage helps, and then He says, “But i think i need to work some of the stiffness out. Swing that arm a little bit.”

It takes me a minute to get it.  In fact, it’s not til He turns me over His knee that i realize what kind of arm swinging He has in mind.  i suggest that this might actually make his shoulder worse, but He assures me, No, this will be just what He needs.

After a little hand spanking, we adjourn to the bedroom, where He continues to work out the kinks {giggle} by beating my poor ass with the bamboo poles and the paddle.  

The paddle felt just as you might imagine, like a big ole piece of wood thudding on my ass.  He complained mildly about the grip, noting it would be easier to use once He carved the end of it down, but it didn’t seem to bother Him any from my perspective.

The canes were ~ well, they were interesting.  Here’s a picture of one of them:

It didn’t seem like they hurt too much at first, and then they got a bit stingier, and then a bit more stingier, and then they hurt like a ~ well, you know, like a mother~.  They left some nice welts, which i felt like i’d earned, but when i got up this morning, they were already gone.   

Sir’s shoulder was fine this morning too, so i guess He did know what He needed all along.  


i went to SIG yesterday too ~ the Special Interest Group discussion ~ and had a lovely time, but that will have to wait for another day  {Waves to Ms. Constance, and CS, and C, and anyone else who was there…}

Questions for Dominants {Part III}

9 Oct

Have you had relationships which evolved from vanilla to kinky?

Sir says, “Yes, my last marriage started vanilla and we added kink over time.”

How many people in your social circle, if any, are aware of your lifestyle?

Sir says, “A couple – well 5 or 6 or 7.  Not details, but they know ‘He likes to tie up women.’

This cracks me up, the way he’s described his buddies’ reactions to this information.  Disbelief initially, and then a bewildered acceptance.

He tells the story sometimes of  being with his friends when they’re talking about women and such, and the subject comes up.   His oldest and  best friend might remind the others, some of them younger, all vanilla:

“Well, you know how X is, he likes to tie those women up.”

And Sir X shakes his head and says patiently, “Only if they want me to, ya know, only if they want me to.”

Do you, or would you, have intimate vanilla relationships as well as kinky ones?

Sir says, “Well, you know I don’t.  And I don’t think I would, no. Not with different people now, that’s for sure.”

He was going to leave it there, but i pushed, “What if i get hit by a bus tomorrow?  Would you then?”

Of course, He immediately says i better not get hit by a bus, not tomorrow and not any time for that matter.  i promise i won’t, and then He goes on to say:

“No, I wouldn’t have a vanilla relationship then either.  I’m done with vanilla.  It’s like it closes off an area of the brain.   So it would have to be someone who was at  least kink aware.  Someone who was into some of it.”

i’m intrigued by the idea that limiting yourself to vanilla relationships actually closes off part of the brain.  It might, you know.  Where’s the research on it???

Do you have rituals and protocols that you require your submissive(s) to follow?

“Not really,” Sir says.  “There are things we do. Things I expect.  Openness. That’s really important.  Not rejection. If I touch you, I expect you to be open to that.  If you were suddenly like, “No, don’t touch me,” that would be a problem.

But you know I don’t have a lot of rules or requirements.  Submissiveness is the only requirement.”

Actually, when i push a little bit on that, it turns out there are other things i do that He particularly likes, and if i suddenly quit doing them, it would be a problem.  But they’re not so much things that he asked for as things that i offer.

So i call Him “Sir,” most of the time, actually.   He says He wants that, expects that. i imagine someday i’ll accidentally do it in front of family, and smile it away so no one will be too shocked.  

And there are all kinds of rituals we’ve developed,  from coffee preparation to taking His shoes off at night, to Him tucking me in bed if i go to bed before Him.

They aren’t chipped in concrete ~ for example, on Saturday morning, when i go to my volunteer gig and He sleeps in,  He’s on His own for coffee.  Yes, i brew it and leave his cup and two sweet and lo’s next to the cup, so He knows i was thinking of HIm.  

But common sense is involved.  The rituals are meant to please, more so than restrict.

The rituals serve a purpose.  They keep us connected and focused on each other, which is essential to a BDSM relationship ~ at least one where we live together.   

If the Buddha Married, has a chapter on that too, the need for and value in focusing on each other, on “us.”  {What a wonderful book, thank you, Andi, for suggesting it.  i dip into it in bits and pieces, and am loving it.}

The rituals and protocols Sir and i have are perfect for us, of course, and probably wouldn’t be for someone else.  But they’ve developed organically, and maybe that’s part of why they work.

Don’t get the idea that i picked them or devised them by myself.  Sir guides me gently, subtly sometimes, but firmly enough that i know He is in control.  He encourages me to express my submission in ways that come from deep inside myself.

He accepts or rejects what i offer, rejecting gently and redirecting me kindly so i’m not crushed, but making sure that i’m acting in ways that are pleasing to Him.  Which pleases me and ~

~ inspires me to find new ways to please Him.

How cool is that?

Questions for Dominants {Part II}

8 Oct

What’s the best thing about being dominant, outside of play?

“Self-confidence.”  Sir says that ‘s the best thing.  

It could even be the quality a dominant  most needs to posses.  i can’t imagine a dominant without it.

“Confidence in oneself and one’s abilities.”  

That’s the definition, and really, i can hardly think of anything worse than someone trying to dominate me who’s not sure of what he or she is doing.   i guess lack of it could be the most detrimental thing for a dominant.

That doesn’t mean they have to be skilled at everything.  They could be in the middle of learning something and practice on me.  That wouldn’t undermine the dynamic.

But they would need to have the self-onfidence to say they were practicing.  If they pretended to be an expert, and weren’t, that would be a real problem for me.

And they need confidence in their ability to master the skill.  As they practice, i want to feel comfortable and safe.

So they need a certain amount of skill to back up whatever they’re trying.   Over confidence in  rope suspension, or knife play, could really damage me.

{You see how these questions are going, right?  Sir gives a simple, direct answer, and i wander around with it….}

Are there parts of a submissive or slave’s life that you feel a dominant shouldn’t exert influence over?

Sir said, “Yes. Personal career growth.”  i was nodding agreement, and He thought a minute before He added, “Family – relationships with grown children who aren’t my children.”

i was nodding on that one too.  Those may not be the best answers for everyone, but they are for me.

There was a Dom i knew once, we were just talking on-line, but he used to talk about how he was going to have me wear a butt-plug at work.  Or one of those remote control vibrators, and when he’d text me, i’d have to turn it on no matter what i was doing.

i’m sure that would work well for some people.  However.  In my work, i need to be mentally and emotionally present for the client i’m seeing.  If someone is telling me details of their life story, it would not be ok for me to be distracted by a butt plug.  It just wouldn’t.

Beyond that, no one else could tell me what career path to follow.  They just couldn’t.  Finding my way through that is part of my own spiritual journey.

So i’m nodding agreement.  Sir thinks for a minute and goes on to say, “We may have some interaction around those things, i may give advice or guidance, but not control. If I suggest something in those area, i expect you to listen, but you may or may not do what I’m suggesting.”

We talk about that a little bit, different circumstances i’ve been in and how his  advice or thoughts on it have been helpful to me.  He really listens to me, and offers suggestion in an indirect way.  He tells stories, or shares His own experience, and that works well for me.  i’m eager to learn what He offers, even i decide it doesn’t apply to my situation.

Finally, He says, “If something relates to me directly, or to the house, I’m comfortable telling you what I want.  And I’m confident you’ll do it.  I like to give you freedom within a task –  you don’t need to be micro-managed.”

He adds, “I’m confident you can do it well, and if you can’t, ~ well, you know, you’ll pay with your ass, right?”   He laughs, and i do too, but really?

That’s really right, isn’t it?  i don’t have to worry so much about whether i’ve done it exactly right or not.  If i haven’t, i’ll pay with my ass.  

And if i do, if i do the task perfectly?    i’ll still pay with my ass.  “There’s no logic here,” He says.  “Either way, you pay with your ass.”

And that works just fine for both of us.

In the Morning

10 Apr

Blogging in the morning makes me hold still long enough to figure out what i feel.

Sometimes i struggle with it, the holding still.  i bounce around Facebook ~  google some quotes, looking for one to post ~ read some other blogs ~ check my bank account balance…  That just delays the moment.

This moment.

When i have to be still and listen to myself.  Feel my own awareness of myself.  Like a circle, like a dance, turning inward, in tune with me.

My submission is here, my heart, my center.

It spreads through me til my palms tingle.  Relaxed.  Alert.  Waiting.

i wish He were here.  i want to sit at His feet, maybe curl against His legs.  There is something about being at His feet that draws me.

i think He doesn’t understand how deep my submission runs.  i think He thinks it is all kink and fun-and-games.  Or i don’t think that ~ not for real ~ but for right now, i do.

i think He doesn’t understand.  The images in my head, the strength of the desire to be wrapped in Him.  i don’t think anyone can understand.

The intensity of expression ~ spankings, cock worship, obedience and rituals ~ those are ways to begin to manifest the feelings.  Move them from abstract to concrete.


Yeah, i wanted to write more about that, only it’s not what’s really on my mind.  i screwed up yesterday ~ well, Sunday night really.

It wasn’t ~ i don’t think it was a huge, big deal, but it bothered Him.  i apologized .  He commented on the situation.  i apologized again.  He explained why it bothered Him.  i apologized again.

Do you see what’s missing here?

i’m looking for that “it’s ok,” moment of apology acceptance.

i don’t think He’s going to offer it.

i don’t think i want to ask for it.

Right now, i’m just waiting to see what happens.  i don’t think He’s mad at me.  i don’t think He hasn’t forgiven me.  But i’m curious to see if He’ll do an “it’s ok,” or not.

So that’s on my mind.

After all, better to think about that than thinking about doing my taxes.  {Laughing…}

BTW, when i google “at his feet,” and then go to images, i get mostly religious images.  There was this one:

but it’s billed as a “pre-middle aged gigolo in a tuxedo…” which is not what i’m looking for, and it doesn’t have the feel i want.

This one was interesting:

but still doesn’t have quite the right feeling.

These do though:

And isn’t that interesting?


The Munch and More

8 Apr

Sir and i got together yesterday afternoon before the munch.  He’d said we were going to  do something mundane, but fun.  And it was.

We went shopping. 

We had never been shopping together ~ well, the grocery once, but that was a quick late night trip.

And ~

~ we went shopping for shoes.

Life doesn’t get any better than that, does it?

We found two pair  ~ white tennis shoes, and black dress shoes.  Both size 10 1/2 wide.

O, did i forget to say ~ it was shoe shopping for Him, not me…  {laughing…}

As He reminded me, it’s not always about me.

i was allowed, once He was finished, to wander through the women’s section once.  i didn’t actually spot any “have to have” shoes so that was good, and we proceeded to the search for a new shirt.  

Yes.  Also for Him.

It was fun actually, partly because He’s fun and partly because i’m wild about HIm.  i don’t remember the last time i went shopping with a man for His clothes.  Actually, i’m not sure i ever have.

Have i mentioned that i’m wild about Sir?

Anyhow, then we went home and got ready for the munch.

He seemed pleased with the little black dress i was wearing, so that was good.  And Ms. Constance commented on it, which made me smile.

We were greeted at the door by Mr. Michael ~ and Caile, wearing some adorable bunny ears.  Jacki was handing out candy ~ i took a bracelet.

i wore it all night ~ it looked great with my dress.

Laughing… anyhow, it was a delightful evening.  Drew was there, Ms. Constance’s slave, who is one of my favorite people in the whole world.  He has such a lovely Zen feel, and a wry sense of humor, which is an unusual combination.  But it was wonderful to see him, and Ms. Constance too, who i haven’t seen in forever.

Then Sir and i went home.  

i had been waiting to have “the conversation” until i was in a most submissive frame of mind.  That happened pretty quickly.

He slips a finger through my collar to pull me closer.  Fists His hand in my hair.  i am immediately in a different head space.

Even before He grasps my right nipple and pinches firmly.

But that  makes it much easier to explain the whole issue, and tell Him how i feel.  Well, except for it being a little difficult to find words, or to talk at all, but i manage.

And He listens, as He does so well.

And it doesn’t take Him a minute to make a decision.

“You should email me every day,” He says.  “At least once a day.  I’ll answer when I can, most of the time, but I want to hear from you every day.”

Which is really all i needed to hear.

Happy sigh.

And now here we are, at the kitchen table together, having slept til daylight once again.  This could become a Sunday habit.

Happy Easter and Happy Passover, and just general happiness to all of you!


7 Apr

i’m exhausted this morning, but in a good way.  My sister and i went out for dinner at a fancy restaurant and then to the theatre.  It was our Christmas present to each other, and we had a fabulous time.

She and i need to do that more often.

Of course, she kept me out too late, and now i’m all sleepy and maybe even a little out-of-sorts.

But i’m waking up now, and ready to go to my volunteer gig early.  It will be a big day today, since tomorrow is Easter, and some churches encourage their members to come out special to harass and harangue women on their way to the doctor.  {Sin, i would hope the rapture comes this morning and takes them all away!}

Anyhow.  Sir and i have not talked yet about my need to stay more connected.  {See astute observation from Kitty the Submissive Wife in yesterday’s comments, which i haven’t responded to yet.}

But in an email last night, He mentioned something about symmetry not being balance, which made me smile.  It’ll be an interesting conversation, i’m sure. 

The munch is tonight, and i know where it is, {although this time, i might check fetlife again when i get home today.}  We’re going and i already know what i’m going to wear, which is pretty much a miracle.  But i was trying on stuff last night for my evening out, and discovered that my little black dress fits so much better than it did last summer.  Apparently i’ve lost some of the dreaded “belly fat,” thanks to my low carb diet.  Even though i don’t follow it very well, and haven’t actually lost much weight, and even though last night was no holds barred eating.

But even last night i only had two slices of bread, and it was the kind with holes in it!

Pretty, isn’t it?

Anyhow, i will be spending some time with Sir before the munch too, although he says that will be mundane.  But fun.  And then he laughs.  So i have no idea what to expect.

But i know i need to get in gear and start moving now, and i have a zillion things to do before i see Sir ~ not to mention i’m having family over tomorrow and have to decided to make quiche and i haven’t done my taxes yet {i know, i know…} and lots of other things.


But that’s ok.  Good times are ahead.


6 Apr

i didn’t get to see Him Wednesday.  We had planned to have dinner, but other obligations got in the way.

i miss Him.

Just one day off, and even though i know i’ll see Him Saturday, i miss Him.

His computer is not working well, so there is less response to my email too.  Well, no response actually, Monday or Tuesday.

That makes me miss Him more.  It makes me feel adrift.  Untethered.

i picture myself like a hot air balloon, at risk of just floating away.

i ask Him, in an email Wednesday morning, if He even wants me to email Him like i do ~ every morning and evening.  This is something i do, not something He’s told me to do.

So Wednesday night, i wake up in the middle of the night and look at my phone.  i do that these days, check my email and go back to sleep.  Don’t ask me why.

But on Wednesday, i’m glad i do.  There’s a message from Him.  Not real long or real kinky or real intense.  But He says a little about what He’s been doing and it’s warm and affirming and after i read it, i feel better.  

i feel connected again.

Tethered.  Held.  Secure.

i roll over and go back to sleep.  Happy.  Even though He has not answered my question.  

He does that sometimes.  It doesn’t mean He didn’t hear me.  He’s just not ready to answer.

That was Wednesday.  Last night, we text for a while, and all is well.

And this morning, i wake up thinking i want more control.  i want structure and rules. Rituals and protocol.

As i write that, i have a mental image of Faithful, commenting “You need to tell him you need rules and structure.”  i say that because i’ve said this before, and she’s said that before, and it feels like a well-traveled path.  But ~

~ if i tell Him i need rules, even if He gives me some, it will not feel right.

i do need to tell Him how i feel.  Yes.  i get that.  And i will.

But i can’t tell Him ~ i won’t tell Him ~ what He needs to do about how i feel.  For me, that defeats part of the purpose of the D/s dynamic.

What He does is up to Him.  

i’m responsible for telling Him how i feel.  He needs to decide what He wants to do.



Sigh.  What if  ~ what if He doesn’t want to give me more structure or rules or anything at all ever?   What if He thinks i’m too much trouble?  What if ~ what if ~

~ laughing ~ what if i stop the panic now?   What if the rapture comes tomorrow and He gets taken?  i guess there’s no point in worrying about that either…

But i want to feel Him even when He isn’t here.  Feel His presence in my life.  Held, secure, fastened, tied…

And i need to tell Him that.


Thank you for all the lovely congratulations yesterday ~ gotta be at work way too early today, will respond soon as i can… but thanks.  You made my day!