The Grumps
So I straightened and vacuumed the living room, wiped down the kitchen, got most of the laundry started… Taylor is at the garage working on the bike… I’m bored. There are a ton of things I could do but I just don’t feel like it. I hate days like this. I woke up before I wanted to and I think it just made me grumpy. Grumpy days suck. I think when you’re in a power based relationship they suck even worse. Anyone else notice that? When I was married and life was...
Read MorePretty pretty princess (a rant)
Bunch of hooplah over on FetLife. What’s new, right? I’m extremely stressed out over the constant slavier-than-thou bullshit I see all over the place. I’m not a fucking slave, god damn it. I don’t have to behave the way you do, the way the folks in Laura Antoniou’s books do or the way Master Meatmeister said a slave does at the last seminar you went to. I’m just a girl, submissive in nature when in the presense of those more dominant than I am, who...
Read MoreClockin’ In
Well… I sure haven’t written here in awhile, have I? Both lots going on and nothing going on at the same time, if that makes sense. Let’s see if I can hit the major points, hmmm? Taylor got a new job. He was working for a company thru the temp agency for two months and they finally hired him on full time. Can you say yay! It’s third shift but we’re both night people anyhow so that’s not such a big deal. And it’s Sunday thru Thursday so we still have...
Read MoreProtected: Empty
My tears make his dick hard. It’s as simple – and as complicated – as that. Simple because if he can make me cry, drive me to tears, it arouses him. It doesn’t matter if I’m sobbing or if the tears are slowly leaking from my agonized eyes. Doesn’t matter if they’re pooled up and threatening to fall or streaming down my face. If I cry for him his dick grows heavy and thick. Complicated because most of my tears come when he doesn’t want them....
Read MoreProtected: Change
It feels like years since I’ve felt the emotions this little picture brings to my mind. It hasn’t been, I’m sure. My mind exaggerates and forgets. But I certainly don’t feel them often enough. I can lay much of the blame for that at His feet. I do, in fact, lay much of it there. It’s his job to keep things running properly around here and, as an imperfect beast, he often fails. And yet much of the blame resides within myself, too. I give advice – good advice...
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I drink a lot of coffee, ride a motorcycle, have an 18 year old son and a decade long relationship that began in a chat room.
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