Tag Archives: Dominance

Fifty Shades, Vagina, and More…

8 Jan

No, you can’t have fiona every day, i’m sorry.  Life is not all about training schools and good times.  {Laughing…}  But she’ll be back, i think she has a thing or two to learn about obedience.

But then don’t we all?

i finished 50 Shades of Grey ~ yes, light years after everyone else ~ and i only bought it cause it was on the counter of the used book store and i had money left on my gift certificate ~ but still, now i have things to say about it.

i liked it.  No, really.

Well, maybe i should have said first that i’ve always been a somewhat indiscriminate reader.  i’ve read more bad novels and even a certain number of Harlequin romances than i would care to admit to.

Um, i guess i read books like some people watch TV, some of the time.  i mean, i read what i think of as “good” books {or even “real” books} too.  Classics and work-connected stuff and some great fiction and essays and all that.

And i read junk.  Preferably good junk ~ in my mind, Nora Roberts is the best of escapist literature, but Danielle Steele and a slew of others can serve the same purpose.  Mindless and fun.

Fifty Shades is not as well-written as Nora Roberts, not as satisfying as J.D.. Robb, and if it didn’t have the kink element, it really would have been a Harlequin romance, and not a nine-days wonder.

The sex scenes weren’t bad, ~ maybe not great, but not bad, and i thought she pretty well captured that element of control that Doms do which may be my favorite part of TTWD..

i thought it was unfortunate that Christian {apparently} didn’t have a community to introduce Ana to.    Maybe that happens in one of the later books?  But i’m guessing not.

Or ~  lacking a real-life community ~ think how nice it would have been for her to have discovered the blogging community.  She could have started out commenting, but i think she needed her own blog.  

Can’t you imagine her writing out her concerns, releasing some of that angst?  And then we could have reassured her and helped her understand how it works.  

That whole obsession she gets with wanting to touch him when he doesn’t want her to and her insistence on hearing his life story ~ really, that was awfully intrusive, but then she doesn’t have any experience in romantic relationships either.  

So rather than getting in touch with herself, it seems that all of her energy is directed to trying to understand Christian.  She’s not focused on exploring her own sexuality, or enjoying what’s there and seeing where it takes them.  You know?   One of the things i value about the kink world is the self-exploration, and she does so little of that.

Yep, she needed a blog.  We would have been a big help to her.  And maybe him too!  If Christian had been in touch with DV or Florida Dom or David, they could have given him sage advice.  

Of course, i haven’t read the last two books, maybe there is still some emotional growth and a happy ending in store for us.

On a whole different note, i just started a book called Vagina, by Naomi Wolf, which i may or may not actually finish.  But the part that’s fascinating, so far, is that apparently women have all kinds of complex neural wiring from the genital region and apparently the reason some of us are more responsive to certain types of orgasms than others is simply because of different wiring.

Yeah.

So if you only have orgasms with clitoral stimulation, it’s because that’s what your “wiring” is best connected to.  Doesn’t mean you’re necessarily limited to that, but that’s always going to be easiest.

My problem with the book, unfortunately, is that i don’t trust her information.  She talks about orgasm as if it’s something that has to be carefully coaxed from a woman by dint of gentleness and patience, at least that’s what i think she’s saying, and we know that’s not always true.

BUT ~ before i dismiss her ~ maybe she’s really talking about  women needing a sense of safety in order to orgasm.  She has a complex explanation of this, involving the autonomic and sympathetic nervous systems.  That makes more sense.   So for her, feeling safe means one’s partner is gentle and slow ~ for us, it might mean we’re tied to the bed and being whipped.

No, really, that is what some of us need in order to give up control…

The challenge for me in reading this book is that it’s difficult to absorb new information and try to adapt it to what i know to be true at the same time.

Anyhow.

i haven’t responded to comments on my post on spirituality yet, at the time i’m writing this post.  i am so amazed and touched at the lovely responses that it takes me a while to absorb them and respond.  Thank you all for being ~ well, you know, who you are.

To those of you who offered to send me book lists ~ yes, please.   That would be lovely. 

Physically, i’m feeling much better, and emotionally too, although i don’t expect an angst-free state for a while.  Ms. Constance’s blog post today really resonated with me ~ you can read it here ~ but the part that hit home for me was this:

Paralysis isn’t wasted.  I think the inability to move forward, or what feels like that, is often really the lesson in listening to oneself, that small, still voice that is so often drowned out, when the world is too much with us, late and soon.

Thanks, Ms. Constance.

fiona’s Fun

7 Jan

“But, how long do you want  me to stay here?” she asks, looking up at Him.  It’s not that she doesn’t trust Him, but He’d insisted on blindfolding her on their way to the retreat center, and now she’s not sure what to make of it.

It’s beautiful.  No doubt about that.  Even in the dusk, she can see the gardens are luscious and the building itself looks warm and welcoming.   A large front porch, and lots of windows, flowers in window boxes.  Nothing threatening here.

And yet.  There is something about this that makes her hesitate.  “Are you sure this is what we should do?” she asks.

He looks down at her, shakes his head.  “Fiona,” He says.  “YOU were the one who wanted to see what it was like.  It was all you could talk about ~ Naomi’s training school.  I went to some trouble, you know, to find a place as much like that as I could.”

He pauses, and an odd look crosses His face.  fiona holds her breath for a minute but then He goes on, “And this one seems pretty close.  i think we’ll both be satisfied with the results.”

“Both?” says fiona, and her voice is a little squeaky.  “Aren’t you satisfied with me now?  You told me i’m your good girl, were you just being nice?”

“Fiona.”  And He is firm now, “Fiona, be quiet.  We’re here, and we’re going to do this.  You’ll have a safe word, and we can leave any time you like.  But who is in charge here?”

“You are,” she says, a little breathless, adding quickly, “Sir.  You are of course.”

“Then be quiet,” He says.

He puts His arm around her, casually, but He catches her hand and twists her arm behind her back, holding her firmly as they go up the stairs.  The door is opened immediately, as if someone had been watching and waiting for them to arrive.

The man who opens the door is dressed quite formally, in black pants and a white shirt with a black bow tie and a jacket.  fiona thinks he looks like a waiter in a really elegant restaurant, and the idea makes her smile a little.

He nods to Sir Q, and says, “Good evening, and welcome.  They’re expecting you.  Did you have a good trip down?  No trouble finding the place?”

Sir Q nods, “No, no problem, the directions were very clear, it was quite easy.”

fiona looks at him out of the corner of her eye.  He sounds more formal than usual, and somehow this makes her nervous.

“I’m Charles,” says the other man, “and I’ll take you to the parlor.  This is Elena,” and as he says it, a woman appears beside fiona.  “She’ll take your slut to prepare her.”

fiona feels herself blushing ~ did he just call her a slut?? Omigod.  She looks at Sir Q, but he is avoiding making eye contact.   Elena says,”Right this way, Miss” gesturing to the doorway and standing back so fiona can precede her.  fiona hesitates, but just for a moment.

Elena directs her though several rooms, closing doors behind her.  Finally, they are in a small, round room with cushioned seats along half of it, and mirrors from floor to ceiling on the other half.  Elena says gently, “You are to undress, please, and i’ll give you a robe to put on.”

fiona is not very comfortable with this, but she also can’t imagine telling Elena no.  She starts to unbutton her blouse, and hesitates, o, dear, really?  She has to take her clothes off in front of this woman she doesn’t even know?

Elena is watching her impassively, but when she sees fiona’s hesitation, she smiles warmly.  “Oh, my,” she says.  “You are really a novice, aren’t you?’

fiona can only nod.

“Don’t worry, darlin'” says Elena.  “Your Master has signed you up for the beginner’s package.  You’ll probably love it.  Are you feeling shy about taking your clothes off?”

fiona nods, feeling a little foolish.

Elena just smiles.  “Well, of course you are, darlin’.  But no worries, it’s not a big deal.  Let’s just get them off, and quickly.  We don’t want to be late getting you down to the parlor, or you’ll be starting off in trouble.  Here, shall i help you?’

And she’s so warm and friendly sounding that fiona nods, and the next thing she knows, her clothes seem to be flying off her, as if Elena has some magic touch that undoes buttons and zippers with no effort at all.  Even her panties pool around her feet as if they belong there.

Naked in front of the mirror, fiona starts to cross her arms over her breasts, but Elena frowns.

“O, no, we can’t have that,” she says, “You’re a lovely woman, why would you want to cover yourself?’

As she says this, two other women appear behind her.  They enter the room, and before fiona can protest, each of them takes one of her arms.  fiona can only watch, helpless, as they attach a fur-lined leather cuff to each wrist.  Then, to her dismay, they pull her arms behind her back, and attach the cuffs to each other.

There is no question of covering her breasts at this point, and in fact even her pussy seems very exposed in the mirror in front of her.  She is going to protest, but Elena shakes her head.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” she says to the other two women, who nod and murmur agreement.   Well, maybe i am, thinks fiona.and she relaxes just a bit.

She is expecting them to produce the robe that Elena had mentioned, but instead they bring out a collar, a wide leather collar with a ring in it, and fasten it around her neck.

It is very like a dog collar, she thinks, looking at herself in the mirror, and she feels a bit odd, seeing herself like this.  It is – it’s like one of aisha’s fantasies – and the idea makes her smile, and makes her nervous at the same time.

Happy 2013!

1 Jan

images

In the last few hours of 2012, i learned a few things.  i learned that

  • If i’m attached to a tether by my wrists and a spreader bar at the ankles, bent over the bed, i really can’t move much

  • The paddle hurts like a *******  {insert your own expletive} even if He isn’t “putting any muscle in it.”

  • If He keeps tightening one nipple clamp, over and over, that also hurts like a *******.  And it still hurts the next day, even if He barely touches it.

  • The belt hurts ~ and i like it.  A lot.  i know, kinda crazy, isn’t it?   But i do.  It has a lovely thud.  

  • After i cum a few times, it all hurts much less.  Even those evil whacks in the most sensitive spots.

That’s all good information to take with me into 2013, don’t ya think?

On a whole other note, i’ve been running around reading blogs and making comments, and thinking about how much i love this blogging community.  You all have changed my life in so many ways.  

Whether we’re celebrating or commiserating, i know this is a place i can come and be accepted.  Thank you all for that.  i’m looking forward to all that 2013  brings us.

“I want a life that sizzles and pops and makes me laugh out loud. And I don’t want to get to the end, or to tomorrow, even, and realize that my life is a collection of meetings and pop cans and errands and receipts and dirty dishes. I want to eat cold tangerines and sing out loud in the car with the windows open and wear pink shoes and stay up all night laughing and paint my walls the exact color of the sky right now. I want to sleep hard on clean white sheets and throw parties and eat ripe tomatoes and read books so good they make me jump up and down, and I want my everyday to make God belly laugh, glad that he gave life to someone who loves the gift.” 
― Shauna NiequistCold Tangerines: Celebrating the Extraordinary Nature of Everyday Life

2 ~ Naomi Learns

28 Dec

After meditation, Naomi has a few minutes to get ready for the day.  She is allowed to wear a robe now, but it is never closed, and is slit in the back so that she isn’t really covered.  Often throughout the day, Anna will say, “Pinch your nipples, please,” and she and Wendy and Sara will obediently pinch their own nipples until they are hard and erect.

This, and other measures, serve to keep her constantly aware of her openness, and of her sexuality.  Her nipples tingle, thinking of the attention.  It is an odd feeling ~ not being allowed to touch herself when she wants to, and being made to do it at times not of her choosing.

Naomi washes her face, brushes her teeth, and uses the bidet, careful not to touch herself more than necessary.

The routine is familiar now.  There will be more meditation with the group, punishment for any infractions from the evening before, and exercise class.  

Breakfast, showers, and the butt plug inserted.  Each day, a slightly larger one, forcing her open and easily accessible.   She has begun to wish someone would take her, would use that hole so carefully prepared.  But that’s not up to her, she knows this.

Then ~ orgasm training.

Orgasm training.  She smiles.  There’s something to look forward to.  They’ve been working on teaching her to cum on command, and her skills are getting better.  She’s not so good at holding back, and she’s been whipped more than once for cumming without permission.

Whipped, and nipple clamps applied, pain that tortures her body and makes her long for more.  She pretends sometimes that Sir Daniel can see her being tormented like this, that He is there watching her suffer.  That would be perfect.

And tonight ~ o, tonight, He will be there.  She is half-lost, dreaming of that when the bell chimes again.

*************************

There’s a taste of Naomi, let’s see if i can move the story forward without a minute by minute play.  Although – the heat is in the details, right?

In the meantime, i have tons of wonderful comments that i’ve read, smiled over, and replied to in my head ~ still sitting there unanswered. Time to take care of that.

Stumbled across this quote today ~ i love this perspective:

“You have the need and the right to spend part of your life caring for your soul. It is not easy. You have to resist the demands of the work-oriented, often defensive, element in your psyche that measures life only in terms of output — how much you produce — not in terms of the quality of your life experiences. To be a soulful person means to go against all the pervasive, prove-yourself values of our culture and instead treasure what is unique and internal and valuable in yourself and your own personal evolution.”
~~ Jean Shinoda Bolen

Post-Xmas

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.

Naomi Learns ~ I

26 Dec

Naomi stretches, feeling her muscles tighten and relax.  She is awake before the bell rings, and enjoying the sensation of her body.  

The sheets are silky against her skin.  Her ass and upper thighs sting, but not unpleasantly.  After five days here, her muscles are more toned than they’ve ever been, and she smiles as she notices the flex in her calves when she points her toes.

The bell chimes, the signal to awaken, and there is a “click” as the lock attaching her wrist cuffs to the chain on the bed is released.  She doesn’t move, not taking advantage of this freedom.  She had made that mistake the first day, and remembered the punishment that followed.  

She doesn’t know if they’re watching her now, she never knows.  The room is designed with two way mirrors and video cameras so she can always be viewed.  Infractions of rules are always punished, sometimes immediately, sometimes later.

Anna’s voice over the intercom is familiar now.  “Namaste.”  

“Namaste,” Naomi replies.  This is the only word she will say without explicit permission.  She is better at remembering that too.  

“The day begins,” says Anna.

Naomi releases her wrists, and gets up now.   Moving quickly.  She has a few minutes to use the bathroom.

Then, the intercom again, “Now, begin your meditation in first position,” says Anna.  

 Naomi  kneels beside the bed.  The first five minute meditation of the morning is for thankfulness.  She is not very good at this yet.  It’s difficult to be relaxed and open, to let her gratitude flow through her mind, and her heart, without judgment, to let her thoughts come and go like clouds in the sky.

When the time is up, the bell rings again.  Anna says, “You may begin preparing your tea.”

Naomi rises.  She is very aware of her body as she goes to the counter.  Her nipples are hard, and there are a couple of welts on her ass that have her attention.

By the counter, there is a pass-through in the wall, she opens it and takes the thermos of hot water that has been placed there earlier.  Her tea cup and the tea are already in place, and it’s a simple matter to pour the water into the pot.  

Then she opens her journal.   She has about five minute to write her thoughts on the meditation, and a goal for the day.  

She writes slowly, in script, forming the letters thoughtfully.   Today, the words come easily.  “Learning humility, grace, and service.  The patience of the Masters.  Anna’s kind harshness.”

That’s enough.  Now her goal ~ that’s easy.  She writes, “My goal is to be pleasing to Sir Daniel tonight.”

She smiles.  He is coming back tonight, Wendy had told her when they put her to bed last night.  The thought of His pleasure makes her smile, and her pussy clenches.  She is hot ~ and wet ~ but she is always hot and wet these days.

And needy.

Anna’s voice breaks into her thoughts.  “Your tea should be ready,” she says.  “You may enjoy your tea now.”

Naomi does.  It’s a blend she likes today, something fruity.  A couple of days ago, there had been one she didn’t care for, and she had not finished even the first cup.  That had been a mistake she wouldn’t make again, so she is particularly glad that today’s tea is delicious.  

Sir Daniel is coming tonight ~ the words dance in her head.  She can’t wait to see Him.    She hopes that He’ll use her pussy, which has not been taken by any of the Masters, nor has her asshole, although they’ve stretched her wider every day.  

They have worked on her mouth, on teaching her to please with her mouth.  

She no longer knows what day it had started, maybe her second day here?   They had blindfolded her, Wendy and Sara had, so she was not sure how many of the Masters there were, although she thought there were four.  

The rules were clear.  She had ten minutes to bring the Master to an orgasm.  If she failed, she got ten licks with the crop.  

Of course, she failed.  Repeatedly.  She smiles, remembering how she had started out thinking that she needed to hurry, that if she sucked real fast and hard, that would work.  Of course it didn’t.  

She lost track of the times she tried,  and the number of licks with the crop.  That first time, it seemed like it had taken her forever to get any of them to cum.  

The second time, she knew she wasn’t going to succeed right away.  Resigned to that, she focused on the cock.  Becoming aware of each one, noticing what movement of her mouth or tongue it reacted to.  That time, it had not taken as long, although the crop had gotten plenty of use.

Anna’s voice brings Naomi back to the present.  “For the second meditation, you will assume fifth position.”  Obediently, Naomi kneels, bending forward so her head and upper chest are pressed to the floor, ass raised high.

“Be sure you are open,” says Anna, “Use your hands to spread your ass cheeks wide, then you may relax your arms.”

Naomi does as directed.  This no longer seems strange or uncomfortable, it’s the same thing she will do later as they insert a butt plug.  It’s the same thing she’ll do if she is called to the Masters room in the evening and told to offer herself.

The instructions for this meditation are familiar too.  “This meditation is on openness.  Offering yourself and serving with your cunt and your asshole..”

The First {Kinky} Gift of Xmas

25 Dec

Sir had to work yesterday, and i was still baking cookies and wrapping stuff all day.  After He got home, He went out to the garage to finish wrapping my presents {so i wouldn’t peek.  Which i wouldn’t have anyhow.  Probably.}

One in particular was intriguing.  It was about a foot long and a couple of inches wide.  Wrapped in pretty, shiny purple paper, and tied with silver ribbon crisscrossing around it.  i had no idea what it could be.

 Finally, we’re resting a bit in front of the tree, thinking about bed, and He says that one is kinky, and i should go ahead and open it.  O, yay!!

So i do.

Wrapped tightly, it takes me a couple of minutes to get the purple paper off, and then the suspense continues because it’s wrapped in paper bags.

But ~ finally ~ unveiled ~  here it is ~ {drum roll, please…}

IMG_1858

Yes, it’s a belt.  A leather belt.   Two inches wide.  

It smells – o, so lovely.  

And it is not to wear.  Nope.  i asked.

Look at it close up.

IMG_1860Isn’t it pretty?

i’m feeling it, and inhaling the scent, and  i say i’m surprised it’s beige.  He says that’s because it’s raw leather, and we can dye it any color we want.

Sounds like another DIY project to me.  More challenges for a non-DIY girl – i mean, really  i pay someone to do my hair, my nails, and clean my house… all this sanding and dyeing hands-on stuff is a challenge.  

JM, the amazing analyst, would nod if i told him that, and say that Sir’s a wise man, that He understands the importance of being connected to the things in our life, that modern society is too alienated from doing, too removed from touch… and so on .  Hmpf.  

{Giggling..}

Philosophy aside, i haven’t felt the lash of the belt yet, although He tapped it on my hand, and it makes a nice sting.  i’m sure my ass will get to know it soon…  Knowing it’s in my future is a lovely start to the holiday festivities.

Today,  family and Sir’s grandkids, presents to open, food to eat, and phone calls to Very-Far-Away will fill the day.  Hope your day is full of good things ~ whether you’re celebrating Christmas or not!

Those Moments

23 Dec

We are going over the Christmas lists one more time when His phone rings.  It’s His friend, Danny, so He’s standing in the kitchen talking.  and i’m moving around, putting stuff away, moving things around.  

i pass by Him ~ close enough to touch ~ and He does.  He reaches out and puts His hand on my shoulder, lightly.  Almost absently, as if He’s not really thinking about it.

i could easily keep moving, He’s not holding me, and the momentum of my steps almost carries me forward, but ~

i stop.  In mid-step, i stop.

He leaves His hand on my shoulder for a few moments, time enough for me to breathe.   To let go of the urge to keep going.

My body grows still under His hand.  

His hand moves to my neck, caressing the skin with one thumb.  He is still talking on the phone.  i hold very still.

He touches my hair lightly, and His hand moves down my back, down further and then around me, turning me slightly so His arm is around my back, and His hand is on the side of breast.

He cups my breast, still lightly.  

i no longer notice His words, and He’s not talking to me anyhow.  

His hand inches up, up ~ and touches my nipple lightly.  Brushes it with His thumb, sending shivers from the nipple to my pussy.

My pussy clenches, and i hold back a whimper, He’s still on the phone.  

He pinches, pulls a bit ~ idly, the way people doodle on a notepad, absent-mindedly.  

i bite my lip, move a bit closer to Him.

And He pats my nipple, dismissively.  Removes His arm, and pats my ass, as if to send me on my way.

Released, i move forward again.

 **********************************

This one did happen, and it was one lovely moment in a busy, happy day.  Hope youall are having as much fun as i am!

Moments

22 Dec

His voice comes from behind me.

“LIttle girl,” He says, and there is a warning in the tone.

Oblivious, i keep going.  i’m baking cookies, and trying to wrap presents, and the kitchen is cluttered with cookie stuff, and the dining room is covered with wrapping paper.  The cats have slunk away, not sure what all this fuss is about. 

Christmas music playing, i’m moving to the beat and sprinkling those sugar sprinkles on another batch of cookies.

“What are you doing?”

“Baking,”i say.  “What does it look like?”

Swinging around to face Him, cookie sheet in hand, i grin, until i see His face.  He is not smiling.

My heart sinks ~ omg, what have i done?  What?

“i mean, um,” stuttering a bit, “Baking, Sir?”

And then He grins.  His whole face lights up with the smile.  “Good,” He says.  “Carry on.”

Laughing, i shake my head, relieved.  “Yes, Sir,” i say as i open the oven.

**************************

That didn’t really happen, but it could have!  Hope your day is full of holiday good times!

Sanding 101

19 Dec

i had my first sanding lesson last night.

Yes, it was a lesson; i’ve never sanded before.  And really, i tried to tell Him i’m not a sanding kind of girl.  i’m the kind of girl who reads about someone else sanding.  That’s the kind of girl i am.

He didn’t even respond to that.  He just told me to put some different shoes on because my fluffy house slippers would be ruined by the fine layer of sand that was going to be created in the process.

“Yes, Sir,” is the only right answer to that.

The garage is cool, but not cold.  He starts off showing me the tools and explaining how it all works ~ why we use a sanding block, how to wrap the sandpaper around it, how to hold it.  He doesn’t let me start sanding the paddle right away.

He has an unfinished table leg that He got at Lowe’s.  i think it’s going to be a spreader bar someday.  But first, it is my practice piece of wood.

Finally, He hands me the sanding block and “lets me” begin.

Ok, it’s kind of soothing.  Just rubbing the wood back and forth.  It’s easy to concentrate on that, although other thoughts flit through my mind.

i had a difficult day yesterday.  Even though my morning thing went so well, and you might have thought that would be the beginning of wonderful day, it was not

Ok, it was not the day that was off kilter, it was me.  There were a couple of things, maybe three or four things, that triggered my “i’m no good and i can’t do anything right and i never will be able to do anything right so why don’t i just give up now”  recording in my head.

i KNOW that’s not true.  Really, really i do.  But that feeling can still settle on me like a cloud of gloom, and it did yesterday.

So i’ m sanding away, with the table leg on the work bench in the garage, thinking sanding will probably make me feel better.  i don’t much want to feel better, but there i am anyhow, sanding away and noticing how soothing the rhythm and the movements are and how smooth the wood is becoming, and feeling a bit better despite myself.

Then, “STOP!  I forgot a very important part!” says Sir.

i look up, startled ~

“Your panties!” He says.  “You’re supposed to take your panties off.”

i giggle.  i can’t help it.  “Really?   Here?”

“Yes, here.”  He taps my leg with the cane.  “Go ahead, get ’em off, hurry up.”

“But, Sir, it’s cold!  i’ll have to take my pants off!”

“Yes, I know, and you can put them back on.  Come on, hurry up.”

Another tap with the cane persuades me, and off come my pants ~ fortunately, they’re spandex ~ you know, like yoga pants ~ cause i hate the feel of jeans without panties.  Back on with the pants.

He hangs the panties on the pegboard with the yard clippers and other assorted tools.   That makes me smile.

Finally, He thinks i have the hang of it, and He lets me start on the paddle.  It is kind of pleasant.  

Until He pulls my pants down.

“Keep sanding,” He says, as He begins to smack my ass.

“Yes, Sir,” is the only right answer to that.

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Having been spanked, caned, and used in a variety of ways, i’m feeling much better this morning.  i wake up with several ideas on how to resolve the problems and worries of yesterday.

Thank you, Sir.