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Perspectives
I had a rough day yesterday. I made some poor choices about caring for myself and my body. Last night I was punished for those choices. This morning I was… not punished really, because it wasn’t for something I did wrong, but… I was punished. Because I can’t use better words than that because I am still embarassed by this aspect of my life and my relationship. And isn’t that just sad?
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Moments with Sir – Ownership
This is something I wrote for the list I run… I don’t think I ever published it here. Â I think I intended to, but just never felt motivated enough to “clean it up” and make it more neat and tidy for this posting. Then I was talking with my friend S, and telling her about it and I realized I never had shared it here (and thus she hadn’t read it, obviously) and that… it actually illuminates a complicated to explain aspect of my relationship with Sir. Â I don’t know if this will uncomplicate it, but it will, hopefully, demonstrate it… Or not… Â Meh. Â I’m not going to bother cleaning…
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Yes, Sir
I just got back from my workout (walking for a mile). Sir went with me despite the fact that he already did his run earlier this morning. I have been working up to walking this far ever since the pneumonia and the asthma (which followed the pneumonia just to be sure I could NEVER breathe again…). It’s been discouraging and disheartening. I’ve had times when I wanted to give up and let myself become progressively more out of shape, become a 600 pound woman and exist only to eat. I’ve been embarrassed (walking 100 feet and panting out of breath) feeling that the rest of the world was looking at…
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Punishment
WARNING: This post is graphic and discusses S/M and D/s punishment that could be upsetting for some readers. Please read only according to your own comfort level, and know that all activities are engaged in with consent and have built to this level of intensity through a lengthy and intimate building of trust between my Sir and myself.
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Moments with Sir
Me: (curled up on the couch whimpering) Don’t yell at me, I’m in pain! Sir: (breathes deeply as if he can suck patience from the air) Let’s try this again. What hurts? Me: Everything! Sir: That is NOT informative!
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Irony
A random bit of writing inspired by events of the evening… Sorry not much commentary here. I’m tired, it’s late, and I’m under threats of dire consequences if my “ass is not in bed in the next thirty seconds…” Are dominance and a tendency to hyperbole carried on the same gene or something? Seriously… It seems to be a thing.Â
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Submissive moment of the day
So… for my few loyal followers who I know (one of you at least) would like a little more in the details department (I’m shy! Seriously! Why is everyone laughing??) a little tidbit. I’m supposed to be in bed right now. Sir just had a conversation with me about it, and I’m not staying up all night, again, I promise Sir! 🙂
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Broken Toys
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I am not a switch…
I have said it so many times… I picture myself Nixon-esque in my denial. And maybe equally dishonest… Although not as intentionally as he was.
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Broken Toys
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Accepting Service
I pick at the chicken salad he just made me. It’s 3 A.M. He realized I hadn’t eaten all day, cast me a searing look and headed for the kitchen – over my stringent objections that I didn’t need anything, he didn’t have to get up, I was fine, I could do it myself… He finally told me to be a good dominant and shut up.